HARLEY MERLIN 2: HARLEY MERLIN AND THE

MYSTERY TWINS

BELLA FORREST
 Contents

Problems reading?
1. Harley
2. Harley
3. Harley
4. Harley
5. Harley
6. Harley
7. Tatyana
8. Harley
9. Tatyana
10. Harley
11. Tatyana
12. Harley
13. Harley
14. Harley
15. Harley
16. Tatyana
17. Harley
18. Harley
19. Harley
20. Harley
21. Harley
22. Tatyana
23. Harley
24. Harley
25. Harley
26. Harley
27. Tatyana
28. Tatyana
29. Harley
30. Harley
31. Harley
32. Tatyana
33. Harley
34. Harley
35. Harley
36. Tatyana
37. Harley
38. Harley
39. Tatyana
40. Harley
41. Tatyana
42. Harley
43. Harley
Read more by Bella Forrest
Copyright © 2018
Nightlight Press
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means,
including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except
for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
 Problems reading?

If you experience any problems reading this ebook—such as pages skipping,

etc.—it’s a Kindle glitch. Just delete the ebook from your device and re-
download it, and the problem should solve itself. If not, contact Amazon’s
customer support; they’re usually very helpful and efficient.
 ONE

Harley

massive ball of fire came at me.

A I dropped flat on the ground and felt the scorching heat of the blaze as
it shot past, warming my back before it dissipated somewhere behind me. I
jumped back to my feet and put my hands out. My palms felt hot as I
summoned the flames within me, eager to pay it back in kind.
Panting and covered in a sheen of sweat, I managed to produce a flurry of
small fireballs, which I shot toward Wade. Poof! Poof! Poof!
He ran across the training hall. My blazing balls missed him by inches
every time. I cursed under my breath. Wade chuckled as he slowed down,
then stopped.
“You’ll have to get more precise with your shots, Merlin!” he said,
breathing heavily.
He came back to the center of the hall, his tall figure reflected in the black
marble floor and in the four walls surrounding us. I caught snippets of myself
as well, and of Preceptor Nomura standing on the edge of the training space,
which was marked with a thin line of white paint that glowed whenever one
of us crossed it.
“Hey, I’m better than I was a month ago!” I retorted.
“Watch yourself, Crowley! You lose points if you leave the training
space,” Nomura interjected.
Wade gave him a quick glance, then shifted his focus back to me.
Sometimes it was difficult to concentrate with Wade Crowley looking at me.
His deep green eyes seemed to pierce through my very soul, and in
combination with the large curls of his black hair and the way his dark blue
pants and vest hugged his athletic figure… well, I had to put in additional
effort to focus on his magical abilities so I didn’t get plastered all over the
floor.
“Come on, Merlin. Hit me. I just lost ten points dodging instead of
blocking your fireballs,” Wade said. “Attack me again so I can get them
back.”
I laughed mockingly, then put my hands out again. He took great pleasure
in riling me up—I could feel it in my chest. There were definite perks to
living with Empathy. When we trained, Wade focused more on the action and
less on his emotions, which allowed me to read him accurately. Outside the
training halls, he was guarded, aware of my ability to feel him. He’d been
practicing emotional control over the past couple of weeks. I could feel that,
too. He didn’t like me knowing how he felt.
“I don’t know about that, Crowley. I’ve got you running around like a
monkey already. It’s only a matter of time before I get you all hot and
crispy!” I replied.
I produced over two dozen small fireballs this time and worked on
perfecting my aim as I released them at Wade. Some he dodged with smooth
and fluid moves. Others he swatted away with his hands. Without his ten
Esprit rings lighting up orange to prevent his skin from burning upon contact
with my fire, he had to use his raw Fire Elemental ability to protect himself.
“Well, for someone who, up until a month ago, didn’t even know what a
magical was,” Wade said, “you can hold your ground. I’ll give you that.”
“I could do a lot more if someone would just let me use my Esprit!” I shot
back, gritting my teeth.
This was a non-Esprit training session. Only our raw powers were
allowed, and I hated it because even without his rings, Wade was a fearsome
adversary.
He ran toward me, grinning like the devil.
Like the rookie that I still was, I froze.
He moved so fast that I didn’t even have a second to react. He stopped
about ten feet away from me and released another fireball at full strength. I
gasped and crossed my forearms in front of my face. I summoned my own
fire to protect me, but I moved one split second too slow.
Wade’s fireball smacked right into me. The force of its impact threw me
backward. I landed on my back with a painful thud, then slid past the training
circle.
Thanks, physics!
Once I stopped, I stared at the black marble ceiling for a few moments. I
heard Nomura click his teeth.
“Too slow,” he said.
“Gee. You think?” I replied dryly.
Wade showed up in my field of vision, smiling as he looked down at me.
He offered me a hand. I slapped it away, then shakily got myself back up and
wiped the soot from my face. This wasn’t the first time I was getting my ass
handed to me, anyway.
“If it’s any consolation, you’re slightly better than last week,” Wade said,
trying to encourage me yet again. It didn’t happen often, and I knew he meant
it, so I gave him a soft nod in return before I frowned at Nomura.
“I’d be a lot better with my Esprit, you know,” I said.
Nomura shrugged. “And I told you that the Esprit is useless if it’s taken
from you. Harley, you must be able to defend yourself and deliver strong
attacks without it. The power is inside you already, and we’re training you to
master it without the aid of a trinket.”
“There’s not that much power in me to begin with,” I murmured, then
pointed two thumbs at myself. “Mediocre, remember?”
A month had passed since the gargoyle debacle, and the coven had yet to
arrange a second Reading for me. It wasn’t exactly a regular custom, and it
had taken them a while to find a new physician willing to relocate to San
Diego. Still, I was wiser and better trained than the first time I’d set foot
inside the San Diego Coven. I knew a little bit more about myself, too, even
though it broke my heart. Harley Merlin was my real name. It sounded better
than Harley Smith, I had to admit, but it carried a dark and painful history.
Hiram and Hester Merlin were once two of America’s most promising
and powerful magicals. Until my father killed my mother. My aunt,
Katherine Shipton, had his child before he married my mother, and it was a
well-kept secret until I got here. Katherine was and, unfortunately, still is a
murderous psychopath. The complexities of my family tree were still mind-
boggling. She vanished years ago, but her son—my cousin and half-brother,
Finch—managed to infiltrate the San Diego Coven.
A plan had been set in motion. The Bestiary was sabotaged. Gargoyles
were let out. People died. I managed to catch Finch, who turned out to be a
Shapeshifter—a rare ability among magicals, from what I was later told. It
was a bloody mess.
The full scheme was still unraveling, though. Even with Finch in
Purgatory, the magicals’ central prison, Katherine was undeterred. Based on
what she’d already accomplished through her son, along with her criminal
record and the fact that she’d yet to get caught, we all knew she was going to
do much worse, and it was only a matter of time before she’d strike again.
Worst of all, she knew I was alive now, and that couldn’t be good—not for
me, anyway. Everyone had thought that I’d died with my mother when my
father killed her, but I hadn’t. I was born and in my father’s care for about
three years, before he surrendered, then got himself put on trial and executed.
I had a bone to pick with Katherine Shipton.
The gargoyles she’d helped sic on me had destroyed my car and my
apartment, and they’d tried to eat me more than once. Her son, someone I’d
come to actually tolerate despite his abrasive behavior, had also tried to kill
me. Me, his own blood. The entire sequence of events made my stomach
churn. Looking back, I’d had a more than turbulent first week in the San
Diego Coven, but I survived it all.
Now, it was all about honing my magical abilities. I had a lot of catching
up to do, especially when compared to other magicals my age. On top of that,
I wanted to become stronger and better so I could be ready when Katherine
Shipton emerged again. Of course, according to my first Reading, I’d been
deemed a Mediocre—a magical with limited powers, despite my varied
abilities. I was a Telekinetic, an Empath, and a full Elemental, with command
over fire, earth, air, and water. And yet, I was held back and most likely
unable to fully develop. Both Alton and Wade had been present at my
Reading, and they knew Adley couldn’t have fumbled or falsified it, despite
her relationship to Finch. Besides, they’d already interrogated her with a
charmed lie detector. We knew for a fact that her interpretation of my
Reading had been sincere and accurate.
“Just because you were labeled a Mediocre doesn’t mean you’re
incapable of getting better at your craft,” Nomura said firmly. “You can still
be effective and even deadly. Remember, I was branded a Mediocre for
twenty years, until I found my Esprit, and I was already a preceptor when that
happened. I took my so-called Mediocrity and I made something better of it.
Technically speaking, you could do a Reading of me right now, and I’d still
be a Mediocre, though my abilities and techniques are infinitely superior.
Your blood shouldn’t dictate what you can do as long as there’s willpower.”
Hiro Nomura had quite the story to tell as a warlock. He’d fought plenty
of battles, the details of which I knew nothing about, but the slim scars on the
side of his face said enough. I never saw him wearing anything other than his
black silken tunic with broad sleeves and the two swords strapped to his back
—together, they were his Esprit. The longer sword was the katana. The short
one was the wakizashi. Together, they were the traditional duo of weapons
sported by Japanese samurai, but for Nomura they served as his Esprit,
objects capable of channeling his Chaos energy into more powerful spells and
magical attacks. Had he not told me he was a Mediocre, I would never have
guessed.
Nomura was one of the six preceptors of the San Diego Coven, in charge
of educating the young magicals in the arts of Physical Magic. Dylan Blight
and I were his eldest students—both of us nineteen and lost through the foster
system from a young age, recently found and reintroduced to the magical
society. Granted, Dylan’s induction had been much smoother than mine and
didn’t involve multiple attempts on his life by flesh-eating monsters and
psychopathic half-brothers he had no idea existed in the first place. No, that
hot mess was mine and mine alone.
“I just feel stronger with my Esprit,” I replied. “More confident, more
focused. Now that I’ve found it, I have a hard time being without it. My
Telekinesis and Fire, in particular, are insanely better when I’m wearing it!”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s still just a gadget for the time being. The better you
are at controlling your natural abilities without your Esprit, the more
powerful and precise you’ll be with it,” Nomura said, then sighed with
frustration. “I’m not here to teach you how to cheat better, Merlin. If you
want Esprit training, you can wait until I deem you ready, or you can ask
O’Halloran for private lessons. At your own risk. Frankly, no amount of
Esprit training will make your natural abilities better.”
I seemed to have a knack for irritating Nomura. According to Wade, that
required tremendous skill—and he didn’t mean it as a compliment. I lowered
my head slowly, once again disappointed that I couldn’t train with my Esprit
under his guidance.
Nomura noticed my childish disappointment, then groaned and rolled his
eyes. “Crowley, put your Esprit on,” he snapped.
Wade nodded, then took his ten sterling silver bands from his vest pocket
and slipped them on his long fingers. He breathed deeply and smiled. I knew
that feeling all too well now, of putting an Esprit on and experiencing the
surge of power through every fiber of my body. It happened every time with
my ring-bracelet.
“Now what?” Wade asked.
“Well, Merlin here doesn’t think one can do much without an Esprit these
days, so I’d like to prove her wrong. Fight me,” Nomura replied, before
removing his swords from his back and handing them over to me.
Wade stared at him, blinking rapidly as he tried to process the unexpected
order. Nomura raised an eyebrow, then moved to the center of the training
area. Each room of the San Diego Coven continued to amaze me. They were
all different in design, size, and function, seamlessly wrapped within a giant
interdimensional pocket right where Fleet Science Center stood. Like all the
other covens, ours was wirelessly powered by the Bestiary, which had
become our responsibility for the next hundred years, as demanded by
tradition. The monsters inside the Bestiary were raw Chaos energy expelled
by magicals during Purges. It was all a natural flow of Chaos, repurposed to
fit our needs as witches and warlocks in a world that wasn’t ready to learn of
our existence.
Nomura’s training hall was my favorite, mainly because of its design
simplicity, and it was made entirely from Chaos energy converted into
matter. It was a black marble box, with each surface polished and glazed to
perfection. In the middle was the training circle. There was nothing else, and
yet so much happened in this room on a daily basis.
“Excuse me, sir?” Wade asked, gawking at Nomura.
“I said fight me. With your Esprit,” Nomura replied.
“But you don’t have yours—”
“That’s very observant of you.” Nomura cut him off, sarcasm dripping
from his voice. “Quit wasting my time. Come at me.”
It took Wade another couple of seconds to assume an attack stance.
Judging by the look on his face, he wasn’t used to sparring with Nomura.
There was fear in his heart, too. He was genuinely afraid of Nomura’s
abilities, and I worked hard to stifle a chuckle when I realized that.
“I’m going to show you how a magical can defeat his opponent, even
without an Esprit,” Nomura said, looking at me. He then motioned to Wade.
“Come on, Crowley, I don’t have all day!”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Wade mumbled. His rings lit up bright orange. Flames
gathered around his fists.
Nomura assumed a defense position, his arms slightly bent in a kung-fu-
style pose. As soon as Wade released the first round of medium-sized
fireballs, Nomura used his Telekinesis to swat them away like pesky flies.
“Crowley! Don’t be such a wimp! Give me something serious to work
with!” Nomura barked.
I held on to his swords, biting my lower lip to stop myself from laughing.
There were very few people in this coven who chewed Wade’s ass, and
Nomura was one of the top three. Wade came from a legendary bloodline.
His mother was the director of the Houston Coven, and his father was on the
Texas Mage Council. How he’d ended up with a mild Irish accent I had no
idea, but it had a way of making my skin tingle whenever he opened his
damn mouth. His parents had to be first-generation Irish immigrants, I
figured.
Wade exhaled, then launched a second attack. This time, as Nomura
requested, he didn’t hold back. His fireballs were perfectly round and highly
concentrated, burning hot red as he hurled them at Nomura’s head. The
preceptor grinned and used his Telekinesis to slice each fireball in half.
My jaw dropped as Nomura advanced toward Wade, who continued his
flaming attacks. Wade’s speed and precision were no match for Nomura’s
agility, though, and the preceptor disabled each fireball with his Telekinetic
whips. Before Wade could throw out another round, Nomura’s invisible whip
grabbed him by the throat.
With one flick of his wrist, Nomura threw Wade out of the circle.
“Oh, snap,” I breathed, watching Wade hit the ground and roll like a
potato across the marble floor. “Are you okay, Crowley?”
Wade groaned, then scowled at me. He managed to get back up and went
after Nomura again. He was angry this time—and if there was one thing I’d
learned the hard way during Physical Magic training, it was that anger served
no one other than your opponent.
Nomura successfully deflected Wade’s attacks, using only his
Telekinesis. Of his three main abilities, it was the one he trusted most during
combat. Sometimes he used his Earth Elemental skills to manipulate the
shape and size of his Esprit swords, turning them into chillingly effective
weapons. Nomura was also an Air Elemental, but he rarely used that power.
Not that he wasn’t good with it. On the contrary. It was extremely intense and
not suited for training purposes, he’d once said.
Wade managed to slip through Nomura’s defenses and delivered a fiery
blow, using a flaming whip. He’d already figured out that fireballs weren’t
going to touch him. Nomura hissed when the whip cut through his silken
tunic. Wade froze, terrified that he’d actually managed to injure Nomura,
who grinned and turned his fear into an opening.
The preceptor dashed across the training circle and delivered a dizzying
array of kicks and punches. It threw Wade for a loop. Nomura then used his
Telekinesis to grab him by the throat again, this time his hand making the
gripping gesture just inches away from Wade’s skin.
“Now, you’re mine,” Nomura announced. “I can finish you off before
you even think of a way out.”
“Yield. I yield,” Wade croaked.
Nomura chuckled as he released Wade and looked at me. “See, Merlin?
Focus on how far you can push your raw power first, then worry about fine-
tuning or amplifying it with your Esprit.”
I nodded slowly, in awe of what I’d just witnessed. Wade’s ego was
bruised, but he, too, looked impressed by Nomura’s fighting skills.
“You really think I can be as good as you?” I asked.
Nomura gave me a faint half-smile. “You’re really hung up on that
Mediocre label, aren’t you, Merlin?”
“The Reading was clear, sir,” Wade replied, giving me a sympathetic
look. “Adley de la Barthe may have had her shortcomings, but she was a
stellar physician. And our patented lie detector doesn’t… lie.”
Ah, yes. Adley. The unsuspecting accomplice. Adley had come to the San
Diego Coven a couple of years back as the physician. She’d fallen for Finch,
who’d played her into keeping his Shapeshifting ability a secret. She paid
dearly for her mistake, and she was now serving time in one of the cells in
our basement, awaiting a trial date. But Wade was right—despite her
weakness for a friggin’ psycho magical, Adley had built quite a reputation as
a physician. And her Reading had been clear about me: I had all these
abilities and, even though I was a full Elemental, which was ridiculously rare,
I was also a Mediocre.
“Didn’t Alton agree that Merlin should do a second Reading?” Nomura
said, frowning. “I thought Adley had suggested the same, too.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied. “I guess the new physician will do that, though I
haven’t had the chance to talk to him much, lately.”
“Of course you wouldn’t.” Nomura sighed. “Krieger took over all of
Adley’s projects. He’s got his hands full for a while. Nevertheless, you
should get tested again, if only for your peace of mind. I doubt you’ll get
different results, but Chaos can surprise us sometimes. Who knows?”
That statement somehow filled me with hope, despite Nomura’s generally
pragmatic approach. His teaching techniques had that “tough love” vibe, but
most of his students honed their skills over the years. Hell, I’d already come a
long way.
One month in this place, and I had much better control over my
Telekinesis and Fire than before. Despite my complaints about not being able
to use my Esprit during Nomura’s training sessions, I had to admit I was
making progress.
Deep down, the fear of one day facing Katherine Shipton pushed me to
try harder, to do more, and to learn as much as I could about myself and my
family in the meantime. When Finch was carted off to Purgatory, he had
sneered at me and said that this was far from over.
The troubling part was that I believed him. So, if there was so much as a
10 percent chance that I wasn’t a Mediocre after all, I wanted that second
Reading. Katherine Shipton was most likely plotting something big and
terrible, and I felt as though it was my responsibility to take her down. To
prove that the Merlin name still stood for the goodness and greatness of this
magical world, and not the murder and mayhem that my father had left
behind.
 TWO

Harley

’d grown accustomed to life in the coven.

I I liked it. A lot. I’d even learned to control my Empathy around crowds
of people! And we were getting awfully close to a deadline, on my part. The
probation month was coming to an end soon, and the San Diego Coven was
quietly waiting for me to make a decision. Should I stay, or should I go?
I’d yet to decide, but I did appreciate how Alton didn’t pressure me. In
the meantime, I continued to enjoy my midcentury-style room in the coven,
my pretend part-time job at the Science Center’s Archives and Library, and,
most importantly, the free meals.
Lunch was served in the banquet hall, with its pristine white marble walls
and long dining tables. Some of the seats were empty—the coven had lost
people during Finch’s gargoyle attack. Over a dozen had died, and at least
twenty were still in the infirmary, recovering from their wounds. There
wasn’t enough magic in this world to fix certain injuries. It was up to the
magical’s body to fight and heal itself, as best as it could.
I skipped past the knot in my stomach caused by the sight of empty seats
and stopped by the buffet first. I loaded my plate with chunks of bread and a
heap of cheesy grilled potatoes, which I then slathered in one of the chefs’
signature gravies. My body demanded food, drained of the energy I’d burned
during my training with Nomura and Wade, and my mind required
nourishment after the early morning courses in Alchemy and Occult
Chemistry. Needless to say, I was making progress on all magical fronts, but
I was useless if left “hangry.”
Looking around, I spotted my Rag Team at one of the long tables. A
couple of seats away from them were Finch’s old teammates, including
Garrett Kyteler, who still carried that brokenhearted-boy look on his
handsome face. I still had a bit of a soft spot for him, but I blamed it on my
hormones—just my body responding to an attractive individual. Nothing
more, nothing less.
No longer overwhelmed by crowds, thanks to my Empathic self-control, I
kept my focus on my friends as I walked over to them. They’d saved me a
seat.
Santana Catemaco, Tatyana Vasilis, Raffe Levi, Astrid Hepler, Dylan
Blight, and Wade Crowley. They weren’t just my teammates anymore. We’d
grown closer as a group. We’d learned to work together and to trust one
another. Most importantly, they supported me in my quest to improve myself.
I knew I would forever be in their debt for everything they’d taught me so
far, knowingly or otherwise.
“There she is!” Santana exclaimed as I glided between the long tables to
reach them. “Heard you had quite a fiery experience in Physical Magic
earlier!” she added, chuckling.
They were all smiling, happy to see me again. It warmed me inside to feel
that. The only one who was still guarded and weirdly nervous around me was
Wade, but I decided not to rub his face in it after the ass-whooping he’d just
gotten from Nomura.
I sat down at the table and proceeded to scarf down my lunch. As usual, I
left little room for talking, washing my food down with a glass of sparkling
water, which Raffe was courteous enough to pour for me.
“It was intense, yeah,” I replied, then tackled another piece of potato.
“This gravy, though…”
Astrid giggled. “I know, right? I’ve been trying to get my hands on the
recipe, but the chefs hold on to it like it’s a state secret.”
“So, how are you coming along with everything?” Santana asked. “I
haven’t seen much of you this week.”
I gave her a brief shrug. “Really busy. But I think I’m doing okay. I
mean, it’s definitely better than when I first got here.”
“Still a long way to go, though,” Wade interjected.
 I narrowed my eyes at him. “Hello, Captain Obvious.”
That was part of our routine. Banter and sarcasm were essential parts of
my dialogue with Wade. I didn’t quite understand what purpose it served
him, but for me, it was a good way to keep my mind sharp. I enjoyed our
back-and-forths. Well, I enjoyed delivering solid burns to Mr. High-and-
Mighty-Crowley, anyway.
“It’s true. You’re nowhere near our proficiency levels,” Wade replied,
pushing a broccoli stalk around his plate with a fork.
“Oh, I know. Wait till I get there, though,” I said. “I did manage to make
you sweat this morning. I’ll take that minor victory today.”
The others instantly turned their heads to look at Wade.
“Did she kick your ass?” Dylan asked, grinning like the Cheshire cat.
“You wish,” Wade muttered, pretending to focus on his almost-empty
plate. “Nomura had us training without our Esprits again. Needless to say,
Miss Merlin here still can’t wrap her head around that.”
“I’d just love to get more training with my Esprit, not only without it,” I
grumbled.
“You heard Nomura. First, you need to hone your raw abilities,” Wade
replied.
“Oh, Miss Whitehall is here,” Tatyana said, watching the director’s table.
We all followed her gaze and found Alton having lunch with the preceptors,
accompanied by Imogene Whitehall and Leonidas Levi, Raffe’s estranged
father. Raffe and Leonidas didn’t get along and only really saw each other
during these official visits.
Raffe didn’t look happy. “Ugh. He didn’t even say he was coming.”
Imogene glanced around the banquet hall and smiled when she saw me. I
gave her a polite nod in return, and she winked back. It felt as though we’d
already had a full conversation. Imogene was one of the few people whose
emotions I couldn’t sense, but her gentle expression and bright blue eyes
always put me in a good mood.
Out of all the stuck-up figures in the California Mage Council, the
authority directly overseeing coven activities in the state, Imogene was the
only one I was wholeheartedly fond of. Even before I found my Esprit, she’d
advised and encouraged me. Once the whole issue with Finch and the
Bestiary was resolved, she took the lead on the Council and defended us,
ultimately awarding our coven with over a thousand points toward the end-
of-year bonus. In my book, that made her super cool and a breath of fresh air,
compared to the elitist snobs she had to work with. I’d bumped into her
before, mostly in Waterfront Park during the occasional day out, and we
caught up over tea now and again. She was, by far, one of the kindest
magicals I’d ever come across—in complete contrast to the pompously stiff
Leonidas Levi.
“I wonder what they’re doing here,” I said, chewing on my last piece of
bread.
“It’s probably about the gargoyle incident,” Raffe replied. “They’re most
likely doing follow-up, making sure everything is okay.”
“The cleanup operation was a success, though. It took us two weeks to
wipe everybody who was in the area at the time, but we did it,” Wade said.
“Mage presence isn’t really necessary at this point. We have it under
control.”
Astrid’s AI, “Smartie,” had done a stellar job of scrapping and
manipulating CCTV and social media footage, as well. Tobe was back and
had Preceptor Bellmore assisting him in further securing the Bestiary boxes.
Everything seemed to be back on track, so I was inclined to agree with Wade.
Raffe sighed. “You don’t know my father well enough, then. Once he sets
his sights on a coven, he’ll watch over it like a hawk and swoop in at the first
mistake. Plus, he’s not very fond of Alton.”
“Surely, Imogene balances him out, right?” I asked. “Like she did at the
hearing.”
“Oh, you mean when my own father was ready to sink my coven, and
Imogene intervened and set the record straight after you came in and
testified? Yeah. You could say that,” Raffe replied. “It doesn’t matter if
Imogene is here, though. They’re both part of the California Mage Council,
and it’s not just the two of them. All seven of them are watching us now.
After what happened with Finch, they’re worried.”
“Well, the concern does stem from the fact that they now know it was
Katherine Shipton’s doing. That she’s still very much alive and kicking,”
Santana said. “They’re quaking in their boots, man.”
“She was really bad, huh?” I sighed, losing my appetite. Fortunately, I’d
already gone through most of my plate, leaving a handful of crusts on the
edge.
“Haven’t you been reading up on the Shiptons?” Tatyana asked, raising
an eyebrow.
“Alton promised he’d dig up all the information he has on them and the
Merlins, if I focus on training and learning,” I said. “He’s yet to deliver, but,
frankly, I can’t say I’m looking forward to reading up on my family history.
I’ve been studying about my abilities, mostly, and the Bestiary. It feels less…
toxic.”
“Not ready to deal with your past, huh?” Tatyana replied.
I exhaled. “Willing, sure. But no, not ready.”
“Whatever you need, we’re here. You know that, right?” Santana said,
smiling softly. “My Orishas like you, by the way.”
I chuckled. “Oh, yeah, after that ride they took me on with the gargoyles,
I’m sure!” I replied, remembering the button in my throat, which the Orishas
—powerful Santeria entities commanded by Santana—used to amplify my
voice and draw the gargoyles back into Balboa Park and away from the city
streets. The experience was impossible to forget, as it had left me with a
small scar on my throat, where the button had burned through at the end.
“Well, yeah. They think you’re a tough cookie. They like tough cookies,”
Santana said.
“That explains why they obey you,” Raffe interjected. It surprised
Santana, and it must have taken some effort on Raffe’s part. My heart was
pounding like a maniac—my Empath senses were picking up Raffe’s
feelings. He was nervous, yet brave enough to give Santana a compliment.
He liked her. A lot. But there was a part of him I’d yet to wrap my head
around. Raffe struck me as a dual character. Warm and friendly, shy and
helpful on the outside, but with a dark and poisonous storm brewing on the
inside. He didn’t like talking about himself, which made it difficult for me to
ask about the mixed emotions I sensed. I had a feeling I hadn’t earned his full
trust on that. And no one on our team spoke on his behalf.
It was kind of an unspoken rule: Only Raffe talks about Raffe.
“Thank you, Raffe,” Santana replied, her lips stretching into a dazzling
smile. It made my heart flutter—once again, that was all Raffe. I was
swooning over her because of him.
“When is your second Reading?” Astrid cut in, looking at me.
Out of everyone in our circle, Astrid and Santana had been the most vocal
about me doing a second Reading. Neither believed that I was really a
Mediocre, and, as much as I tried to stop myself from experiencing potential
disappointment in the future, I didn’t believe it, either.
“I have no idea. I haven’t talked to Krieger about it yet,” I replied.
“Ah. Wolfgang Krieger!” Astrid replied, faking a German accent and
making us all chuckle.
I glanced to my right and noticed Garrett watching me. Rowena Sparks,
Poe Dexter, Lincoln Mont-Noir, and Niklas Jones were with him, talking and
laughing about something. But Garrett wasn’t listening. He was focused on
me. I felt another pang, remembering that I’d never see Ruby Presley again.
She’d died in the gargoyle attack, and even though we hadn’t really gotten
along, her passing was still a terrible tragedy.
“I heard some pretty creepy stuff about Krieger,” Dylan said.
Garrett smiled at me, but there was a tinge of sadness in his blue eyes,
which I was convinced had something to do with Finch. Out of everyone in
his crew, Garrett had been the most affected, since he and Finch were best
friends. I couldn’t feel him as an Empath, either, but his face said plenty. He
was still hurting.
He’d repeatedly apologized for his verbal attacks on me, too. After all,
he’d been the one to tell the entire coven what I’d just learned at the time—
that I was the daughter of a mass murderer. He knew that the sins of my
father had nothing to do with me, but, according to Finch, Garrett was pretty
upset about how close Wade and I were. That, in and of itself, was ridiculous,
since there was nothing going on between Wade and me. The heart was a
fickle thing, in Garrett’s case. He was still one of the hottest guys in the
coven, but I just couldn’t look at him the way he looked at me. I didn’t feel
that spark, the proverbial je ne sais quoi.
Our only date had gone sideways after Wade showed up with Clara
Fairmont, then got into an argument with Garrett. That episode still puzzled
me, weeks later. What had Wade been thinking, when my purpose had been
to get intel out of Garrett regarding their Bestiary investigation?
“Define creepy,” Tatyana replied. “The man has quite the reputation as a
physician. In fact, I’m told he’s one of the best in his field, able to mix
medical science and magic in ways never seen before.”
“You’re quoting out of his profile in the San Diego Coven Gazette, aren’t
you?” Astrid said, heavily amused.
“That’s what it says!” Tatyana chuckled.
Garrett then moved his sights to Wade. Again, I noticed a tinge of
sadness. He and Wade had once been close friends, and neither wanted to talk
about what happened between them. Still, I was curious.
“Most of the rumors you’ve heard about Krieger are unfounded,” Wade
interjected. “He is kind of creepy-looking, though.”
“Rumors, as in how he snatches young magicals from their beds, does
horrible experiments on them, then wipes their memories and puts them back
in their covens?” Astrid replied.
“Or how he did a whole Dr. Frankenstein thing a few years back and
made a new magical from different body parts, before having to put the
creature down after it blew up his laboratory?” Santana chimed in.
“What about that time he slipped powerful toxins into the Miami Coven’s
lunch, and they ended up going berserk for an entire afternoon?” Raffe joined
the Spooky Krieger train, laughing.
“Miss Merlin!” A male voice made my head snap and instantly silenced
everyone at the table. I recognized the German accent right away.
“Dr. Krieger,” I murmured.
Wolfgang Krieger had the most silent footsteps in the San Diego Coven.
No one ever heard him coming. Case in point, the entire Rag Team were
frozen in their seats, their eyes wide with horror as they hoped he hadn’t
heard anything they’d just said. Their anguish was my anguish. Damn
Empathy!
Krieger was a tall man in his mid-forties, with broad shoulders and short,
slick blond hair. His eyes were a pale and clinical blue, devoid of emotion.
He wore a white lab coat over his gray suit at all times, along with a pair of
small, thin-rimmed glasses. For all intents and purposes, Wolfgang Krieger,
originally from the Berlin Coven, seemed designed to instill fear in the hearts
of his beholders.
“Dr. Krieger, we didn’t see you there,” Astrid managed, her voice
uneven.
“You’re not supposed to, Miss Hepler,” Krieger replied flatly.
His emotions were clear to me—sheer amusement, with an undertone of
insult. He felt offended by the rumors, which he’d obviously heard, but he
seemed to take great pleasure in tormenting my crew. I wasn’t one to get on
the physician’s bad side before my second Reading, so I kept that little
nugget to myself and watched my teammates quiver before him. Even Wade
seemed wary, and that made me smile.
 “Anyway, Miss Merlin,” Krieger continued. “I believe it’s time we
arrange a second Reading for you. It’s been on my to-do list for a while now,
but Miss de la Barthe’s other projects have been keeping me quite busy. I do
apologize for taking so long to find you.”
Astrid’s German impression hadn’t been far off. Krieger’s accent was
strong, cutting through his English like a giant clumsy knife.
“Dr. Krieger, it’s all right. I completely understand,” I replied politely. “I
suppose Adley’s work was a lot to take in?”
I had no idea what I was talking about, since I didn’t know anything
about the previous physician’s projects, but I was hoping that Krieger would
tell us. He nodded.
“Yes, the magical detector is quite an ambitious project,” he said. “Miss
de la Barthe was exquisite in her field. I must give credit where it’s due.”
My eyebrows rose. “Magical detector? Someone’s still working on that
with Adley gone?”
Krieger stilled, his forehead smooth and his gaze cold. “You know about
it? It’s supposed to be top secret.”
“I suppose it’s not top secret, since you just told us about it,” I replied,
secretly surprised that he’d actually played into my little scheme. “But don’t
worry, I haven’t told people. I only overheard it myself from Alton and
Tobe.”
Krieger shook his head. “I’m either getting old, or you’re very good at
getting people to reveal things they normally wouldn’t,” he replied, then
smiled briefly. “But you’re right. It’s not a secret. It’s just that not many
people here talk about it, mainly because Adley didn’t tell anyone about what
she was doing, except Alton and Tobe. And yes, I’ve taken over the work
she’s done so far.”
“So, what’s a magical detector, exactly? I never got the details,” I said.
“We’re trying to develop a detection technique, based on the Reading.
Something simple that would allow us to identify magicals out in the human
world, without their blood,” Krieger explained. “The project is still in its
incipient stages, but the theories behind it are sound and rather promising.”
“You want to have a detector handy to identify new magicals,” Wade
concluded. “Without a fuss and without the humans noticing.”
“Indeed, Mr. Crowley. Our purpose is to find the magicals before their
powers manifest so the covens can bring them in and take care of them,”
Krieger replied.
That sounded like a very good idea, but at the same time, I couldn’t help
but worry about how easily such a tool could be used to hunt magicals
instead of helping them. If this device fell into the wrong hands, like those of
Katherine or some other evil bastard looking to do harm, or even the humans
if they knew about us… I didn’t even want to think about it.
“Anyway, Miss Merlin. I will make time in my schedule over the next
couple of days for your second Reading,” Krieger added. “Please make sure
you’re available.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied.
A knot formed in my throat. It was finally happening. The second
Reading. The confirmation of my Mediocrity or the debunking of it. I was
definitely nervous about it. I had my work cut out for me in both scenarios.
With the certainty of Mediocrity, I had to work twice as hard to get to a level
where I could feel confident enough against someone like Katherine Shipton.
If, however, I wasn’t a Mediocre after all, I still had to work and push myself
to take on someone as deadly as my aunt. Not knowing for sure was the worst
part, though.
“And don’t worry, I’ve upgraded the Reading syringes,” Krieger said,
grinning.
“Oh. I’d forgotten about that part,” I murmured, getting the chills as I
remembered the size of that monstrous metallic syringe that Adley had used
to draw my blood. “Glad to hear about that, I suppose.”
“I’ve had trouble getting some of our new magicals to sit down for a
Reading,” Krieger replied. “And I’m not one to tie the youngsters down.
That’s just… barbaric! I figured it was better to redesign the tool itself and
make it more child-friendly.”
Looking at him now, Krieger wasn’t creepy at all. He was actually quite
sweet, and his emotions were all positive as he spoke to us. There was no
deception… nothing to ring any alarm bells. The rumors were definitely
ridiculous.
“I’m sure the young magicals of the San Diego Coven are grateful for
that,” I said, smiling.
The Rag Team was still frozen, and Krieger didn’t let that slide, either.
“Now you can all go back to repeating folk tales about how I boil babies in
cauldrons,” he quipped, then gave me a playful wink. “And I’ll be in touch,
Miss Merlin, to schedule your Reading.”
I snorted a laugh as he walked away, overwhelmed by the face-burning
embarrassment inundating me. Santana, Astrid, Raffe, Tatyana, and Dylan
were all red-cheeked. Wade, on the other hand, was stifling a smirk. Mr. I’m-
Right-All-The-Time.
“So, he heard everything,” Astrid whispered.
“He totally did,” I replied, feeling my ears get close to melting
temperature.
They needed a minute or two to recover from the shame, while I
struggled to regain my composure, dealing with their sheepish emotions.
Still, I was pleased we were still given assignments together as the now-
notorious Rag Team, whenever delicate coven work was required. We’d done
a good job during the gargoyle incidents, so why split us up?
Alton rose from his table, leaving Imogene with Leonidas and the
preceptors, and made his way toward our table. He exchanged a nod with
Krieger as the physician passed by him and headed for the exit.
“Morning, team!” Alton greeted us. “Meeting in my office in twenty
minutes?”
“Morning, Alton,” Wade replied, his brow furrowed. “Did something
happen?”
Alton put on a flat smile. “We’ll talk in twenty minutes,” he said, before
returning to his table.
That instantly put us all on edge, especially me. My nerves were already
bending and stretching to new limits. I wondered if this was about Katherine
Shipton.
Maybe it was time to settle that score. I certainly looked forward to it.
 THREE

Harley

lton’s office was always a pleasure to be in. I would’ve loved to have

A such a sweet slice of the coven all to myself—provided I was ready to
commit to being there for the rest of my life. I was already tempted to do it,
but part of me still wasn’t ready to let go of my independence.
Sure, the gargoyles had trashed my place, but I could just rent another
apartment and remain a Neutral. Alton had already said he’d support my
decision, if that were the case. But I wasn’t fully into that, either. There were
perks and drawbacks, no matter what I chose to do. I just had to weigh
everything carefully first.
Santana, Wade, Raffe, Astrid, Tatyana, Dylan, and I waited patiently in
front of Alton’s desk as he dug through his drawers for a file. Santana and
Tatyana took the armchair seats, while the rest of us stood quietly with our
arms crossed.
A few minutes passed, and Alton cursed under his breath, seemingly
unable to find what he was looking for, until he gasped. He shot back up and
waved the manila folder around as if it were his most prized possession,
beaming at us.
“Found it!” he exclaimed, then took a seat behind his massive walnut
desk. “Now, before I start, how is everyone doing?”
We looked at each other, before Wade took the lead on that answer.
“Fine, for the most part. Merlin here is studying and training. She’s also
doing a decent job in the Archives. The rest of us are monitoring reports from
the human world, in case anything slipped through the cracks since the
gargoyle incident. So far, it’s been quiet.”
Alton analyzed each of our expressions with a half-smile, then nodded
slowly. “That’s good. It means that Astrid’s efforts came through.”
Astrid blushed, her lips twirling into a sweet little smile, flanked by the
cutest pair of dimples. I’d already learned not to let this adorable side of her
fool me—Astrid was as fierce as they came, especially for a human. “My AI
is automated now,” she said. “Smartie detects anything related to the incident
and automatically sends alerts to my computer. From there, I analyze every
line and assign magicals to deal with any issue that might require our
intervention.”
“It’s been a month, now.” Santana sighed. “It shouldn’t be a problem
anymore.”
Alton shook his head. “It’s not. But it’s better to monitor and double-
check than find ourselves with our pants down, don’t you think?”
He had a way with words. It was even funnier because of his Southern
drawl. Despite his crisp suits and perfectly groomed appearance, Alton still
had the spunk and humor of a bayou man, and it was one of my favorite
things about him. He looked at me, his expression firm but his heart
brimming with affection. Alton Waterhouse was extremely fond of me, for
some reason. I figured this was as close as I would ever get to fatherly love in
the coven, and I welcomed it.
“First, I know I promised you some information on your parents, Harley,”
he said, “but it took me a while to get to it. Part of me wasn’t sure I should
give you everything we have, since you might not like the whole truth. But I
think you’re tough enough to read through it all and make up your own mind.
I trust your judgment.”
“No problem about the delay, Alton. As you might’ve noticed, I haven’t
exactly insisted,” I muttered.
“I understand why. I suppose you don’t feel like you’re ready for the
whole truth, huh?”
I shrugged. “You could say that, yes.”
“Well, it’s time to get ready,” he replied, then pushed the manila folder
across the desk. “This is for you. All the information that I was able to gather
regarding your parents and Katherine Shipton. The latter will be of particular
interest to your entire team.”
My brows furrowed and my stomach tied itself up in knots as I took the
file and flipped through its pages. My heart swelled, then broke repeatedly, as
I saw my mom and dad in different photos. In one of them, they were with
Katherine Shipton—all three smiling like everything was right in the world.
It struck me as odd, without reading the text documents enclosed in the
folder.
The physical resemblance between Katherine and my mother, Hester, was
striking. The same wild green eyes, the fiery red hair, the slim figures and
sharp cheekbones…
“They were twins, Hester and Katherine Shipton,” Alton said, noticing
the photograph that had captured my attention.
My blood ran cold. “Whoa. Twins? I mean, I knew they were sisters, but
twins?”
“Not identical,” Alton replied. “But yes. Twins. You’ll find more info in
there.”
“Do we have any news about Katherine?” Wade asked, and the question
prompted me to reluctantly close the file. As much as I wanted to tear
through it now, we still had a briefing, based on the second folder still present
on Alton’s desk. I would study it later.
“Not exactly, but she’s part of the reason I wanted to speak with you this
morning,” Alton replied. “There have been rumors, though we haven’t been
able to verify any of them. Katherine Shipton is still in the wind, her location
unknown. The one thing we are aware of is that she’s planning something
big, and that it involves the magicals here in San Diego. That’s all we were
able to understand from Finch’s vague statements, anyway,” he added,
running a hand through his brown, wavy hair. “We’re worried she might be
targeting those we haven’t pledged into the coven yet.”
Shivers ran down my spine. “What makes you say that?” I asked.
“In here, I have a list of potential new magicals,” Alton replied, then
opened the second folder. He turned it around and pushed it forward so we
could all see the names. “We were supposed to reach out to them, make sure
they’re magicals, and bring them into the coven. Two of them went missing
early this week, and we can’t find them anywhere. They’re not showing up in
the human databases either. It’s like they simply vanished. Plus, there are
rumors among the city’s Neutrals and the rogues passing through. There’s
something brewing. Something dark.”
“That’s not good,” I said, hearing my voice tremble.
Gloom settled over the room, weighing heavily on my shoulders. We
were all worried—none as badly as Alton, though. He felt responsible. He’d
been with the coven for over three years, since Wade managed to get Halifax
fired for his incompetence. Alton had been working to improve SDC since,
and this clearly set him back. Additionally, he cared about magicals in
general, putting his heart and soul into his work to make sure they were all
protected. Personally, I disagreed with the plethora of coven regulations that
suffocated this effort.
That was just one of the reasons I was inclined to join the San Diego
Coven—so I could help change some of their antiquated rules.
“It isn’t good. Which is why I’ve decided to call the Rag Team back into
action,” Alton said, looking at each of us with a twinkle in his emerald eyes.
“The coven needs your help.”
We’d been called the Rag Team when we were first assigned to cleanup
after the initial gargoyle attacks—wiping the memories of witnesses,
removing any magical evidence from the scene, and altering or deleting
CCTV and social media footage were the extent of our responsibilities at the
time. We were the underdogs. Undervalued for the most part, we ended up
leading the investigation into the Bestiary sabotage in the end.
But the name had stuck.
“Okay. What do you need us to do?” Wade asked, taking a deep breath.
“I’ve got one of O’Halloran’s investigative crews of security magicals
looking into the disappearances, but I need you and your team to check out
these other potential magicals,” Alton answered, nodding at the list. “Some of
them are young, so caution and subtlety will be required. Some are closer to
their teens, and thus can be more easily reasoned with. These are all
individuals linked to strange phenomena, as described by human witnesses.
Objects moving on their own. Fires starting out of nowhere. Water sprinklers
going berserk, and so on.”
“How do you know these kids are responsible?” I asked, checking the
names on the list and their home addresses. Most of them were in the
suburban areas, which I deemed preferable to mid-city magical outbursts. The
residential neighborhoods were easier to manipulate, since there were fewer
people whose memories required wiping or altering. I hated that part of that
job, but I understood why we had to hide the existence of magicals.
“We’ve been monitoring them from afar, through magicals infiltrated in
their schools and neighborhoods, as well as through CCTV,” Alton
explained. “We need you to confirm they are, indeed, magical, and talk to
them about coming into the coven for protection and education.”
“I’m pretty sure their parents can protect and educate them, if they’re
adequately informed,” I replied.
Wade shook his head. “It’s not feasible if the parents are foster humans.
We have protocols for that. Under no circumstances can the humans be
involved.”
“That’s… insane,” I blurted out. “So, what, you want the parents, foster
or natural, to willingly surrender their kids to the coven?”
There was one thing that I wasn’t completely comfortable with. The way
covens interacted with human foster parents. I knew that magicals could only
be born from magical parents or at least half-human and half-magical
couples. I also knew that some magicals were abandoned and slipped through
the cracks of the human foster system—hence, me. But still, humans chose to
take care of kids like me. To protect us from harm. To love and raise us. They
deserved more than a spritz of amnesia magic.
“They won’t remember anything,” Dylan interjected, noticing my
expression. His anguish burned through me. This was quite personal for him.
“Once we get there, we convince the kids to come with us and we alter the
parents’ memories, until the kids are grown enough to control themselves.
Then, they’re reintroduced to their parents, if they want that.”
“This protocol applies to magicals in the foster system with human
parents, though,” Alton added. “Magical parents usually don’t think twice
about bringing their children into the coven. Humans aren’t emotionally or
intellectually equipped to deal with such changes.”
“Intellectually equipped? As in what, they’re too dumb to get it?” I
snapped. I shifted my focus to Dylan. “Is that what they did to your mom and
dad? Wiped you out of their memories?”
“No. I was already eighteen when I was discovered,” Dylan replied. “I
had some wiggle room with what I told my foster parents. They weren’t
happy when I said I was sticking to a local community college, but they got
over it. They don’t know what I can do, what I am.”
I breathed out, unable to process the concept. I scowled at Alton. “And
you’re okay with that? You’re okay with taking foster kids out of their homes
and tossing them in the coven? Do you have any idea what we go through
before we find a decent family, to then have it taken away from us?”
“Harley, before you dismiss this, please go out there and watch how it’s
done,” Alton said. “I can’t say it’s the best solution in every case, but it is in
most. I’m sure you’ll get a better understanding of it once you’re out in the
field.”
“Just follow my lead and it’ll be fine,” Wade replied, giving me a
reassuring nod. “The magicals are always safer in the coven.”
“Especially now that we know Katherine Shipton is on the loose, right?”
Raffe cut in, raising an eyebrow.
Alton nodded. “Precisely. No foster parent can protect a magical from a
witch like Katherine. We need to get to those kids before she does.”
“So, we’re afraid Katherine will snatch them first,” I mumbled.
“Yes, Harley. Two are already missing, and there are rumors flying
around about her building an army. The purpose is yet unknown, but her
record doesn’t leave room for any positive assumptions, if you know what I
mean,” Alton said.
“It’s probably linked to her wanting to become a Child of Chaos. She
probably needs the magical muscle to get that kind of power,” Tatyana
suggested.
Boy, that must have been a lot of muscle, since the Children of Chaos
were the very sources of our power, to which we were all deeply connected,
one way or another. Chaos permeated everything, and so did the Children,
extensions of raw energy like Darkness, Light, or the natural elements,
among others. This was like a mere mortal looking to dethrone the ancient
Ares, god of war, or Poseidon, god of the sea. Just bordering on crazy, yet
somehow… seemingly doable?
“We should stop assuming and get some facts, before anything else,
where her plan is concerned,” Alton said. “Let’s focus on these kids for now.
They need us.”
My aggravation began to subside. I figured I could help bring the
magicals to safety—temporarily, at least, until we fixed our Katherine
Shipton problem. After that, I could push to have the kids placed back with
their families if they wanted to return. They didn’t have to be glued to the
coven to benefit from its protections and education.
 Wade ran a finger over the list, then looked at Tatyana. “Okay. Here’s
how we do this, to cover more ground. You, Dylan, and Astrid take the right
half of the list. They’re all in the east and southeast of the city. Santana,
Raffe, and I will take the left. They’re on the opposite side, north and
northwest,” he said, then nodded at me. “Harley, what’ll it be? Left with
Tatyana or right with us? Your choice.”
I thought about it for a minute, until I noticed that one of the addresses
was close to the Smiths’ place. I could pop by and check up on them while
we were there. “I’ll go with you, Santana, and Raffe,” I said.
“Okay,” Wade replied. “Let’s get on with this, and meet back in my
office in the evening to draw up a preliminary report.”
“Ugh, can’t we meet somewhere bigger than a matchbox, please?” I
asked.
Wade narrowed his eyes at me. “At least I have an office.”
“What good is it if you hit your elbows on the walls all the time, huh?” I
replied with a devilish grin. His tiny office was one of the few aspects of life
in the coven that he could never clap back on. Even he’d agreed, albeit not in
public, that it was ridiculously small. I knew it was a gratuitous shot, but I
just reveled in riling him up once in a while.
The others chuckled. Alton stifled a grin, then put his hands behind his
back.
“I look forward to seeing some progress,” he said. “If you need anything
or if you run into any kind of trouble, call O’Halloran or Preceptor Nomura
immediately. If all else fails, I’m here as well.”
We all gave him a brief nod then left him in his office.
Once we were out, Wade filled me in on what I needed to prepare for this
mission, according to the coven’s usual protocols. Then, we agreed to meet
back by the magnolia trees in the living quarters in an hour, to give ourselves
some time to suit up and plan our routes, based on the addresses in the file.
We each snapped photos of the list before spreading out and returning to our
rooms.
Suits were needed for this kind of mission, since we were meant to
impersonate Social Services employees on a routine checkup of the foster
kids. It was the most inconspicuous way in which we could insert ourselves
into new magicals’ lives without alarming the adoptive or foster parents. The
coven issued some phenomenally well-crafted ID cards for this type of work.
 Heck, we’d pulled off Homeland Security during our Bestiary
investigation. Social Services was going to be a breeze.
 FOUR

Harley

he one thing I’d forgotten to do in the morning was check the

T dreamcatcher. Tobe had been kind enough to give it to me on the off
chance it might help me remember something about my life before the
orphanage.
It was a charmed dreamcatcher, with black beads and red, peacock-like
feathers. I hung it above my headboard at night and whispered an old Navajo
word to activate it. Once I fell asleep, it captured all my dreams—and boy,
was my head a pile of weird or what?
As I slipped into a dark gray pantsuit, matched with a simple white shirt
and black leather flats, I thought I’d have a look at what I’d dreamed the
night before. I was pleased to see that the nightmares had subsided, ever so
slightly, no longer dominating my sleep with gruesome gargoyles tearing the
flesh from my bones.
I’d had plenty of those during the first two weeks after the incident. I’d
dreamed of Adley and Finch kissing, then laughing at me as they tossed me
into Quetzi’s glass box in the Bestiary. That ancient Aztec snake had eaten
me alive more times than I could count. Sometimes, I dreamed of Ryann and
the Smiths, and a future vacation in Maui. Even there, the gargoyles found
me.
In the midst of all this, however, there were barely any earlier memories
resurfacing. I kept dreaming the same scene with my dad holding me and his
sister, Isadora, telling him to get away before they caught him. By “they,” I
assumed she meant the covens. After all, my dad was a wanted man for
killing my mom and other magicals at the time.
I had to admit, I was a little frustrated with the dreamcatcher, though I
only had my brain to blame for not digging deeper into my subconscious.
Then, as I experienced the full audio-visual of my last dream for the previous
night, my breath hitched.
“Holy crap,” I murmured, suddenly finding myself sitting in a small
living room with cream walls and white curtains.
The sun inundated the room, casting a golden glow on everything,
including the satiny fabric of my teeny-tiny straw-yellow dress. My little
hands and bare feet made me realize that I was still a toddler, sitting in… my
father’s lap, in one of the armchairs. The image around me was incredibly
crisp, better than what I’d seen before through the dreamcatcher.
“Look at that,” my dad said, showing me a photo of him and my mom.
I teared up, recognizing the ballroom photograph I’d found in my mom’s
trinket box, along with my Esprit and the deck of cards. I heard myself coo
and gurgle, reaching out with my chubby little fingers to touch the photo.
“That’s Mommy and Daddy, Harley. Before all the hurt happened.”
My dad’s voice was broken and shaky. I looked up at him. The toddler
version of me saw him as the familiar face, the savior and caregiver. The
grownup me, however, saw a handsome and tormented man, with teary blue
eyes like mine and thick, black hair. I was so conflicted at that moment. It
hurt worse than when Finch slammed me into the banquet hall ceiling shortly
before he let all the gargoyles out.
“We were happy then, sweetie,” he added, smiling. “You weren’t even in
the plan yet, but, boy, were we happy to learn you’d join us in this world!”
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I gripped the dreamcatcher’s leathery
edges and prayed to all the possible gods that this dream wouldn’t end
abruptly, like the others. This was as close as I would ever get to my dad.
Yes, he was a murderer, by all accounts, but… he was still my father, and he
seemed so sweet and kind. So different from the homicidal maniac he’d been
described as before.
“You know, if I could go back, I would do it all again,” my dad
whispered. It felt so strange, as if he were actually standing next to me, his
lips just an inch away from my ear. “I would fall in love with Hester again…
I’d marry her. I’d watch you grow in her womb. Hold you in my arms on
your first day. Kiss you goodnight and do my damned best to make this world
a better place for you. I’d do it again, baby girl…”
“Isn’t there something you’d change, though?” A female voice made my
father raise his head.
I instantly recognized her. Isadora Merlin, his sister. The blue eyes, the
long black hair, the ivory skin. Yes, I’d seen her before. Even as a toddler, I
seemed to remember her. I was happy to see her, too.
My father sighed, before giving her a weak smile. “I think we both know
what I would change,” he replied.
“But you can’t, Hiram,” Isadora replied, looking equally heartbroken.
Were they talking about Mom? Katherine?
“I can’t dwell on it, either,” he said. “But I can still take care of my little
girl and make sure she’s safe until I find a way to stop all this.”
“You’re a danger to her, Hiram. You know that.”
“I can handle it!” my dad snapped, then lowered his voice when he
noticed my anxiousness. “I’ve made it this far, haven’t I?”
“Barely, but…”
Isadora’s voice faded away.
“No. No! No!” I croaked, gripping the dreamcatcher’s edges even tighter.
My palms were sweating and my heart was thumping, struggling against my
ribcage. “No. Please, don’t stop! I need to know!”
I couldn’t control the flow of my dream, though. It had already gone,
dissipated into darkness prior to me waking up. That was definitely a memory
I’d just seen. Not a nightmare or a Salvador Dali-type dream. It was an HD
memory, better than the one I’d fished out before, from the murky depths of
my subconscious.
It left me with a ton of questions. My watch beeped twice.
“Time to go. Dammit,” I muttered, then put the dreamcatcher under the
bed, grabbed my phone and keys, and walked out to meet the rest of my
team.
I looked forward to the evening already, knowing I’d have a chance to sit
down and read through my parents’ file. Maybe there was something there
that would answer the new questions I had. What did my father think that he
could “handle”? What was it that he would’ve gone back in time to change, if
given the opportunity?
 Was it what he’d done to my mother? His affair with Katherine Shipton?
I wiped my tears and glided down the stairs, focusing on the present. The
past wasn’t going anywhere. The answers were there, waiting for me to find
them. In the meantime, however, there were magicals who needed my help
and the coven’s protection.
My parents were gone. But Katherine Shipton was still around and eager
to wreak more havoc.
 FIVE

Harley

ade drove us in his black Jeep.

W I missed my Daisy, but after the gargoyle incidents, my beloved
Mustang had been reduced to a pile of junk metal. I owed Murray the
gargoyle for that, and I planned to repay him in kind. He was back in the
Bestiary, super secured in his charmed glass box, but that didn’t stop me from
plotting my revenge. To be honest, the one responsible was Finch, who’d let
Murray out in the first place, and he was pretty much taken care of already.
But there was a hole left in my heart, and I figured that pranking the hell out
of the monster that had destroyed my car might help fill it, even if just
temporarily.
We were headed toward Sunset Cliffs, one of the finer areas of San
Diego, composed mostly of one- or two-story houses and direct access to the
ocean. It was beautiful and sunny in these parts, with short palm trees
sprawling out of front yards and music blasting from some of the backyards
—it was a Saturday, and the weather was perfect for a barbecue. I could even
smell the charcoal burning through the open windows.
“We’re about ten minutes away,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road.
“What do we know about these people?” Santana asked from the
backseat.
I’d been sly enough to call shotgun as soon as we’d gotten to the Jeep.
For that, I’d also been trusted with a copy of the file. I flipped through its
pages and read some of the information out loud, for both Raffe and Santana
to hear. Knowing Wade, he’d already memorized it all, word for word, since
he was the poster child of the overachiever.
“Micah Cranston, aged five,” I said. “Has been in the foster system since
he was two. Bounced around for a while, until he turned three and was
adopted by Susan and Larry Cranston. He’s been with them since. Mom’s a
teacher. Dad’s a construction foreman. It says here they both have fertility
issues, which is why they chose to adopt. They’ve each got a 401(k), and
they’re already saving up for his college fund. They sound like good people.”
I was already getting sucked into my humane side, the one that didn’t
want to separate a child from his parents. Even though I was aware of the
threat surrounding his life here, I couldn’t bring myself to even think of
taking Micah away. There had to be another way.
Of course, I was annoyed with myself. I’d thought I’d already made a
concession over this, but my heart, the fickle and treacherous little organ that
it was, had decided to sabotage my reasoning.
“What incidents led the coven to believe he’s a magical?” Raffe asked.
“Oh. Um, wow,” I said, raising both eyebrows as I scanned a witness
account. “Objects levitating and swirling around him. This happened more
than once. His parents moved him to a new kindergarten after three repeat
incidents.”
“That’s all?” Wade replied.
“What? That’s not enough? Do you want him to pull the San Andreas
Fault and reorganize California’s landscape before he’s deemed a magical?” I
chuckled.
“No, Miss Snappy, I just thought he might have been manifesting other
abilities, too,” Wade said.
I turned the page on Micah’s file. “Nope. That’s all we have. A Reading
would give us more.”
“Do we know anything about his biological parents?” Wade replied.
I shook my head. “Left at an orphanage by a stranger. No birth certificate,
nothing.”
“Okay, that’s a little odd,” Santana chimed in. “Has anyone checked the
hospital records for any missing babies? I assumed they have an estimated
birthday for the boy.”
I glanced over my shoulder at Santana. “No one checked anything. He
just popped up on the grid when he was one year old.”
“Someone must’ve taken care of him until then,” Wade mused, scratching
his chin. The sunlight made his sterling silver rings twinkle for a moment. It
reminded me of something, but I wasn’t sure what, exactly. It was just one of
the many eerie and impossible to describe flashbacks I’d been having lately
while fully conscious. “We should definitely look into this,” he added.
“Let me guess, I get the research gig?” I scoffed, turning another page on
Micah’s file.
“You’re the rookie, so of course,” Wade said.
“Hey, remember what Alton said!” Santana jokingly warned him, though
I wasn’t sure what she was talking about.
“Zip it, Santana,” Wade groaned, rolling his eyes.
“What?” I asked, slightly amused.
“Santana, I’m serious. Shush,” Wade insisted, ignoring my question.
I looked at her again and found her grinning. She waited for a few
seconds, occasionally checking Wade’s expression in the rearview mirror,
then dragged the cat out of the bag. “Alton told Wade to be super extra nice
to you so you’re more inclined to stay with the coven. I was just reminding
him that giving you the grunt work doesn’t exactly qualify as ‘being nice.’”
Wade let out a long, frustrated sigh, briefly scowling at Santana through
the rearview mirror.
“She needs to go through all the hoops we went through, Santana. That
includes some paperwork,” he replied firmly. “Just because Alton really
wants her to stay doesn’t mean she shouldn’t learn some things the hard way
like the rest of us.”
My heart swelled a little. “Aww. Alton wants me to stay.”
“Duh! We all do!” Santana retorted. “Even Mr. I’m-Too-Cool-To-
Express-My-Feelings over here,” she added, nodding at Wade.
That I could sort of agree with. Something had changed between Wade
and me since Finch had been apprehended. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but
our dynamic felt somewhat different—in a good, yet troubling, way. At
times, there was an intensity between us that was hard to figure out. It made
my heart flutter in ways I’d never experienced before. Most of the time,
however, we just seemed to really get along, between layers of sharp jokes
and sarcastic remarks.
“Yeah, I can see that,” I murmured, then pressed my lips into a thin line
to stop a smile from splitting my face.
All of a sudden, I felt nervous. That wasn’t me. That was Wade’s heart
pounding and echoing into mine. He cleared his throat, his knuckles white as
he gripped the wheel and pulled over.
“We’re here,” he announced.
As soon as we got out of his Jeep and saw the lovely house and lush front
yard, with two SUVs parked outside, I knew that little Micah had hit quite the
jackpot with the Cranstons. He was looking at a prosperous and healthy
childhood. His bike was on its side, covered in stickers and settled between
two hydrangea bushes.
Better than some southside orphanage, if you ask me.
“I’ll take the lead,” Wade added. “You watch, you listen, and you learn.
Got it?”
I sighed deeply. “Mm-hm.”
“Is that a yes?” he asked.
“Oh, go already!” Santana grumbled, motioning for him to go ahead.
My throat was already dry, and I was pretty sure I was sweating, but I
could easily blame it on the weather. It was nice and hot, definitely not
pantsuit temperature. Judging by the looks on Santana’s and Raffe’s faces,
they weren’t too comfortable. The jackets were going to come off soon.
I handed the file over to Wade. “There you go. Take the lead,” I said.
He didn’t hesitate as he went up the pathway and knocked on the door.
We gathered behind him, wearing our friendliest faces. We had to give the
Cranstons the right impression. Their minds were easier to manipulate with
false memories if they weren’t under distress—or so I’d learned from
Preceptor Sloane Bellmore, who taught Charms and Hexes.
As soon as the door opened, we were greeted by Susan, Micah’s adoptive
mother. She seemed kind and soft by nature, from what I could pick up as an
Empath. It certainly matched her petite figure, auburn hair, and mom jeans.
“Can I help you?” she asked, standing in the doorway.
“Hi, Mrs. Cranston. I’m Wade Munson. These are my colleagues,
Santana Gomez, Raphael Smith, and Harley… Smith,” he replied, giving
some fake last names and flashing his equally fake ID. “No relation,” he
added. “We’re from Social Services.”
In an instant, I was gripped by concern, mirrored by Susan’s furrowed
brows. “Is something wrong?”
 “No, no, not at all!” Wade replied, in a bid to reassure her. He sucked at
this, though. The dude couldn’t bring himself to smile if his life depended on
it. “We’re just here on a random visit, to check on Micah, make sure you
have everything you need. You know, the usual.”
Susan eyed us carefully, wary of letting strangers in her house. I gave her
a warm smile and a friendly nod, then showed her my also-fake ID. “We do
this once every couple years. It’s not meant to reflect poorly on you in any
way, Mrs. Cranston. We’re simply making sure you’re all happy as a family,
and we’re here to offer advice and counseling if you need it.”
She nodded slowly, then opened the door for us.
“Come in,” she said. “We just made lemonade.”
“Fantastic! I hope you have ice!” Raffe replied, delighted.
We followed her into the living room, and I took a moment to analyze the
place. The house was clean and neatly decorated. There wasn’t a particular
style present, but rather a mish-mash of designs and cultural infusions. The
walnut furniture was loaded with secondhand books and fancy-looking first
editions. The wall art had an Andy Warhol vibe, though the wallpaper itself
was cream and simple. Vases of different shapes and sizes adorned the side
tables, and the centerpiece rug reminded me of Peruvian weaving, rich in
color, with geometric patterns. They’d done this place up piece by piece, as
well as they could afford it at the time—but they did invest in quality.
I was becoming more and more convinced that Micah was in good hands
here.
There were pictures of him all over the walls, along with some of his
kindergarten drawings. Those actually kind of matched the decorative
Warhol-esque paintings they’d been hung next to. It tore me apart to think
we’d now have to take him away. It was cruel.
Pots clanged in the kitchen, followed by a round of boyish giggles and
Larry Cranston’s muffled voice. By the sounds of it, they were having a lot of
fun in there. Susan chuckled, then motioned for us to sit down. Wade took
over one of the armchairs while Santana and Raffe settled on the couch. I
preferred to stand, feeling far too nervous to sit still for more than a second.
I browsed the bookshelves that covered half of the eastern wall. There
was an entire shelf dedicated to parenting books. The Cranstons had
obviously done their homework on the topic. They were also huge fans of
true crime and psychological thrillers, from what I could tell. One of them
had a thing for soapy romance novels—my money was on Susan for that
particular guilty pleasure. It made me smile.
“Larry! Micah! Come in here with that lemonade, and bring some glasses,
too!” Susan shouted toward the kitchen at the end of the hallway. “We’ve got
visitors!”
“How many glasses?” Larry called back.
“Seven, honey!”
“Whoa, lots of people!” little Micah exclaimed.
We all smiled at the sound of his voice as Susan sat in another armchair
and cleared the coffee table, making room for the lemonade. Soon enough,
Micah’s footsteps echoed through the hallway, along with the clinking of
glasses. He was the first to enter the living room and stop and stare at us, a
curious glimmer settling in his brown eyes.
Larry emerged second, carrying a large tray with glasses and a massive
pitcher of ice-cold lemonade. I instinctively licked my lips. Micah seemed to
be wondering why we were here, and there was a hint of concern hidden
beneath his curiosity. I had a feeling he was aware that our presence was
related to his Telekinetic abilities.
“Hi, Micah,” Wade said. “I’m Wade, and these are my friends. We’re just
passing through.”
“Well, our door is always open!” Susan replied, smiling. Micah mirrored
her expression, his tiny teeth making me melt on the inside. He was the
sweetest little thing, with his blond hair cut short and fuzzy.
“How are you all doing?” Wade asked, looking at Susan and Larry.
Larry frowned, giving his wife a questioning glance. “They’re from
Social Services, honey. Just a routine visit. Nothing to worry about,” she
briefly explained.
“Oh! Um… we’re doing well, I guess,” Larry replied. “The neighborhood
is quiet. We’ve got a lot of community activities. Barbecues on Sunday with
some of our neighbors. The private school down the road is great for Micah.
We’re adjusting.”
Wade nodded, then flipped open the file, giving Micah the occasional
glance. “I understand you moved him to this kindergarten halfway through
the year,” he replied. “Was he having trouble in Point Loma?”
Susan and Larry looked at each other again. This time, they were both
nervous. Humans were slightly easier to read than magicals from what I’d
noticed so far. Their emotions were a tad looser. Children, in particular, were
quite intense. Micah was flaring with panic. He kept a pretty good poker face
for someone so young, but his eyes betrayed him.
“It was too far from here,” Susan said, then took a deep breath to calm
herself.
Oh, they were hiding something, for sure.
I’ll take “Our Child is a Telekinetic” for $1,000, Alex.
“You teach at Point Loma High School, don’t you? Wasn’t it more
convenient to drop him off and pick him up from next door?” Wade asked,
raising an eyebrow.
“Not really. Kindergarten schedules differ from my high school, and
Larry is the one who usually handles Micah’s school rides,” Susan explained,
then proceeded to pour lemonade in all the glasses. Her hands were shaking,
and Wade didn’t let that go unnoticed.
“Are you nervous, Mrs. Cranston?”
Susan laughed, the pitch uncomfortably higher than usual. “No! I mean,
not really. I’m just sort of uneasy, I guess.”
“Why would you be uneasy?” I asked, prompting Wade to give me a
stern sideways glance. He was slightly irritated, but I didn’t care. He was way
too serious for this family, making what we were about to do much, much
worse.
“I thought we were okay with Micah,” Susan replied, her voice shaky.
“He’s healthy and growing well, he loves us, and we love him back—so
much. We’re… We’re happy, and I’m worried whenever Social Services is in
the room.”
“We haven’t heard from you since Micah was three,” Larry added,
crossing his arms. “I figured something must’ve happened for Social Services
to come around now. I don’t know, maybe his biological parents showed up
or something.”
“Are you sure you want to discuss that with him present?” Wade asked,
watching as Micah climbed into his mother’s lap and sipped from his plastic
cup, which was also filled with lemonade.
“Oh yeah, Micah knows everything about our family,” Susan said,
smiling at her little boy with so much love, I almost teared up.
“Well, I don’t want you to worry,” Wade replied. “We’re just making
sure that everything is as you expected—that your family life is healthy and
not impacted by any sudden changes. Like I said, the basics.”
From what I was feeling, however, that wasn’t enough to soothe the
Cranstons. They still worried, and for good reason. We were about to take
their child away from them, and Wade was leading them on with these pretty
little lies, just so they wouldn’t be too distraught and their minds would be
more malleable for the memory wiping. It pissed me off.
Something took over in that instant—a part of me that had lain dormant
since my faceoff with Finch. Energy burst through me, bright and furious,
making me stand straight and walk over to Micah, who watched me quietly
as I approached him and his mom. Wade didn’t say anything, but he, too,
watched me with intense eyes. Santana and Raffe were quiet and confused.
This wasn’t part of the plan.
I crouched before Susan and Micah. “Micah, why don’t you tell us about
the accidents that got your mom and dad to move you to this new
kindergarten?”
As expected, both Susan and Larry were shocked and mortified, their
jaws dropping. To my right, Wade was fuming, Santana was slightly amused,
and Raffe was… well, I couldn’t always tell with him. I got both concern and
glee, in a mixture that made my blood chill.
Micah, on the other hand, felt relieved.
“What are you talking about?!” Susan blurted, tightening her arms around
her son.
I gave her a sympathetic smile. “I think you know, Mrs. Cranston,” I
replied, then looked at Larry. “You’re both aware that your boy is… special,
right?”
“Who are you people?” Larry gasped.
“We’re here to help,” I said, getting back up slowly so as not to startle
anyone.
“You’re crazy!” Susan replied, getting aggravated.
I’d seen this coming, but I had a lot of faith in them, especially in Micah,
who couldn’t take his eyes off me. Wade pinched the bridge of his nose, no
longer hiding his frustration.
“All you had to do was shut up and let me do my job,” he muttered.
“Tough luck. Change of plans, Wade. We’re doing this my way,” I
replied dryly.
“You don’t get to decide what—”
 I cut him off. “No! You don’t get to decide what happens to Micah. Micah
and his parents get to decide what happens to Micah, because that’s the
humane thing to do!”
The Cranstons were petrified—understandably, since they didn’t have the
full story as to why we were here. Heck, they didn’t even know what a
magical was. It was too late to go back now, so I returned my focus to them,
while Santana whispered something in Wade’s ear. Whatever she told him, it
seemed to stop him from getting angrier. I could feel the blaze subsiding
within me.
“Mrs. Cranston, your son is extraordinary, and I mean it in the best way
possible,” I said to her. “Have you ever heard of Telekinesis?”
She blinked several times, then looked at Larry and Micah before
nodding. “We figured it was something like that… The internet wasn’t too
helpful, though,” she murmured.
“I would imagine so,” I replied. “Your son is what we call a ‘magical,’
Mrs. Cranston. And chances are that moving objects around with his mind
isn’t the only thing he can do.”
“How do you know all this? Who the hell are you people?” she croaked,
tearing up.
“We’re like him,” I said, then smiled at Micah. “We’re just like you,
Micah. Look.”
Without further ado, I focused my Telekinetic lasso on the lemonade
glass I’d yet to pick up from the table and gently lifted it in the air. I moved it
around the room as a perplexed family of three watched it glide with no one
touching it, then I settled it back on the coffee table.
“I’m losing my mind, aren’t I?” Susan breathed. “Larry, did you put
something in the lemonade?”
“Mom, no. She’s like me,” Micah interjected, then got down from her lap
and came closer, looking up at me. “You’re like me.”
I nodded. “I am, Micah, and, unlike you, I never had anyone come tell me
what I am or what I can do,” I replied, then gave Susan a warm smile. “Trust
me, Mrs. Cranston. Micah is rare and precious, and if the government or any
of the regular humans find out what he is, he’ll be in a lot of trouble. I
suppose you know that, since you’ve been keeping his ability a secret,
moving him from one school to another.”
Susan took a minute to answer. This was a strangely reassuring
experience for both her and Larry. They were worried, still, but there was
some kind of comfort found in knowing that their son wasn’t the only one.
Had they not seen what he could do with their own eyes, they probably
couldn’t have processed this situation without falling into hysteria.
“What’s a magical?” Micah asked.
“A witch—or a warlock, if it’s a boy. A magical has abilities that humans
have only written about in fantasy books. That could be anything from
manipulating the natural elements to incredible strength or the ability to talk
to the dead, among other things. They’re also able to cast spells. Actual
spells,” I said to him. “But you’re one of the good guys, trust me.”
He sighed, as if a great weight had been removed from his shoulders.
Anguish quickly followed it. “Is that why I’m an orphan?”
“You’re not an orphan anymore, Micah. You’ve got Mr. and Mrs.
Cranston now. You have parents, buddy,” Santana chimed in, following my
lead.
Wade and Raffe were both baffled, watching the exchange with wide
eyes.
“Yeah, but my real parents… are they magical, too?” Micah replied.
“Most likely, yes. At least one of them is. Magicals are never made,
they’re always born. And there has to be a magical in the family for that to
happen. Witch or warlock, or both,” I explained, then looked at Susan again.
She was the matriarch of the family; I could tell from the way in which Larry
quietly sought her gaze for comfort and approval before he spoke. “Mrs.
Cranston, there are others like Micah, like us. We’re all part of the San Diego
Coven. We stick together. We scour the city for young witches and warlocks
who might’ve slipped through the cracks. Magicals like me and Micah. I was
a foster kid, too. But I only recently found the coven, and it has changed my
life.”
“So, what, you can teach him to control his powers?” Susan asked,
genuinely curious.
“That and so much more. The coven trains and educates its magicals, as
part of its pledge to protect and give them a purpose. We have safe facilities,
with comfortable living spaces. They feed us, they teach us, they find us jobs
and help us develop ourselves and our careers, no matter what we choose to
do with our lives. They’ve helped me so much already, which is why I’m
here talking to you,” I said.
 “What’s the catch?” Larry cut in, eyeing us suspiciously. “There’s always
a catch.”
“There is, Mr. and Mrs. Cranston,” Wade interrupted, standing up.
“Micah needs to come with us for his own safety.”
“What? No!” Susan said.
“No way in hell!” Larry added.
“Maybe there’s another way,” I murmured, giving him a pleading look.
“What other way, Harley? Micah is in danger on his own, living among
the humans like this! He can’t control his powers now, and it’ll be a while till
he can,” Wade retorted. “Until then, do you really expect him to go to school
and whatever? Seriously?”
“You’re not taking my son away from me!” Susan snapped, her lip
quivering.
Micah was getting anxious, to the point where the glasses and pitcher
started shaking on the table. This wasn’t an earthquake. This was little Micah
losing control over his Telekinesis.
Dammit. I should’ve seen this coming.
“I don’t want to leave my mommy and daddy,” Micah moaned, his eyes
filled with heartbreaking tears.
Wade’s rings lit up blue as he shook his head in disappointment. He was
about to do something cruel and extreme because of the coven’s stupid
regulations, but I wasn’t ready to give up just yet.
“Hold on!” I said, slipping between Micah and Wade. “Wade, listen to
me! There has to be another way.”
Raffe sighed. “We have to keep the boy safe, and you know why.”
“What if he stays with his parents here but they transfer him to the
coven’s school, huh?” I offered, mentally congratulating myself for this last-
minute spark. “They’ll bring him to the coven every morning and pick him
up once they finish work. That way, they spend evenings and weekends
together, and Micah is monitored and educated properly, as per magical
standards. You save up on your memory-deleting spells, and there will be one
kid who won’t hate you with the fire of a thousand suns for tearing him away
from his family!”
Silence settled over the living room. The glasses and pitcher stilled.
Susan, Larry, and Micah stared at us, then at each other for a while.
Wade was livid, and that annoyed the hell out of me. But I was getting
different vibes from Raffe and Santana.
Raffe took a deep breath and crossed his arms. “You know, that doesn’t
sound too crazy,” he whispered.
“Have you lost your mind, too?” Wade retorted, then raised an eyebrow
at Larry. “You did put something in the lemonade, didn’t you?”
Raffe chuckled nervously, looking at Larry, who was utterly baffled.
“He’s kidding. He’s just kidding.”
“He doesn’t look like he’s kidding,” Larry replied.
“Yeah, well, Wade doesn’t do basic social cues,” I cut in.
“Wade, Harley is on to something here,” Santana intervened, thankfully
in my favor. “Micah doesn’t have to be in the coven 24/7 at this point. I could
easily set something up here to alert us if anything goes wrong.”
“What could go wrong?” Susan asked.
“Like we said, Micah is young and not in full control of his powers,” I
replied, just as Wade opened his mouth to reply. I gave him a wink. “Come
on, dude. Work with me. Don’t be a jerk. Kids need to be with their
families.”
“The coven is their family,” Wade answered.
“Screw you, Crowley!” I blurted. “It’s easy for you to say that. You grew
up with parents! Kids like Micah and me aren’t always that lucky!”
The minute that followed was the quietest and most intense in my life.
Technically speaking, I’d just screwed the pooch on coven regulations. The
worst-case scenario saw Wade not giving a damn about my plea and wiping
the Cranstons’ memories, then picking Micah up and hauling him back to the
coven.
I didn’t want to bring Katherine Shipton’s name into the conversation.
There was a less rational part of me that desperately wanted Micah to be
happy and stay with his family. We could watch over them. Plus, we didn’t
really know for sure that she was involved in any of this—not 100 percent
yet, anyway. Stirring any kind of panic based on our hunches would’ve been
unproductive, to say the least.
If we got any later confirmation that Katherine had her skeevy fingers
dipped in this pie, I’d be the first one to show up here again and take Micah
away. But, until then, the kid had every right to enjoy his family. At least for
a little while longer.
Wade’s shoulders dropped in what felt like defeat.
 “Santana, can you have eyes on the boy at all times?” he asked her. It
took a surprising amount of effort to stop myself from jumping around with
sheer, unadulterated joy. At the same time, I felt guilty. I’d just screwed up
his entire operation—I had a history in this field.
“Yeah, I can fuse one of the Orishas to Micah’s energy signature,”
Santana replied. “I’ll set some traps for potential magical intruders. It’ll at
least keep them busy till the Cranstons get out or until coven security gets
here.”
Wade exhaled as he looked at the Cranstons. “For the time being, Micah
can stay with you,” he conceded, prompting the little boy to cheer and run
into his mother’s arms. Susan picked him up, showering him with kisses.
“But should there come a time that we require Micah to move into the coven,
even if just temporarily, you both need to be okay with that. If that happens,
it will be only for his personal safety. Believe it or not, we’re not too crazy
about separating children from their families.”
Susan nodded enthusiastically. “Thank you!” she said, her eyes sparkling
with relief.
“He will need to be at the Fleet Science Center, every day, from eight
a.m. until six p.m.,” Wade continued, his tone flat and firm. “Under no
circumstances will you attempt to flee. We will know, and we will find you.
Is that clear?”
This time, all three Cranstons nodded vehemently, making me smile.
“We’ll be careful,” Larry said.
“Needless to say, you will keep the existence of magicals a secret,” Wade
replied. “It’s bad enough I’ve got a nightmare of explaining over Micah to do
now. The last thing we want is human attention.”
“We will have eyes and ears on you, wherever you go,” Raffe said,
adding his share of grave warnings. I’d softened the Cranstons up too much
and too fast. He and Wade were both trying to make up for that. “We will
know if you tell anyone. Should you break this arrangement in any way, you
will never see Micah again.”
“Jeez, dude,” I grumbled. They weren’t going to have eyes and ears on
them wherever they went; that was just tough talk meant to intimidate. The
magical alarms in the house were enough.
“Shush!” Wade said. “You’re done talking for now.”
I gave him that much. After all, he’d agreed to break coven rules and go
against Alton on this due to my persistence. He deserved to “put me back in
my place.”
We left the Cranstons with instructions and details about Micah’s new life
and expectations as a magical. Santana carried out her Santeria magic around
the house, while we waited by the Jeep.
Wade didn’t even look at me. The silence was painfully awkward, but I
was willing to put up with it. I’d walked out of that house with a major
victory under my belt. Maybe I could bring about some positive changes to
the San Diego Coven, after all. Micah felt like a good first step.
 SIX

Harley

sat in the passenger seat, outside Micah’s house, watching the occasional
I car go by—families headed for the beach. Santana was inside, planting
charms and traps for potential magical hostiles. Wade was outside leaning
against the hood and gazing at the ocean as it rippled in the distance, while
Raffe was in the back, behind me, playing games on his smartphone.
“You have to talk to me at some point, Crowley,” I said, craning my neck
out the car window.
“I don’t have much to say right now. Pardon me if I’m more focused on
how I’ll explain this to Alton,” Wade replied, then slid off the hood and got
behind the wheel.
“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not,” I mumbled.
“Of course you’re not sorry. You just messed up centuries’ worth of
policies because you let your emotions get the better of you,” Wade fired
back.
“And you went along with it!”
“She has a point,” Raffe interjected, still playing. “We could’ve just taken
Micah and wiped Susan and Larry’s memories.”
“Yeah, and then we would’ve had to alter the boy’s memories, too, so he
wouldn’t be traumatized or distressed. Then we would be the monsters,”
Wade said. “This was supposed to go smooth and easy. Go in, tell the parents
what’s going on with their kid, get the kid to understand that he’s better off
with us, then wipe the parents’ minds and take the kid. Easy.”
“You make it sound easy,” I replied.
“I’ve done it before. It’s smoother when you ease the kid into it. Like I
said, there are protocols in place. All you had to do was follow my lead,”
Wade said, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
“Hey, if it doesn’t work out, I will be the first to admit my mistake, I
promise.” I sighed.
“Good. Because if something happens to him, I’ll be looking at you,”
Wade muttered, giving me a stone-cold sideways scowl.
That made me mad. “Nah, you don’t get to back out of it. We’re in this
together. The four of us. We’ll all be ready if something happens. But
Santana’s putting charms and stuff in the house, isn’t she? If Katherine or one
of her buddies comes around, we’ll know. Won’t that help our mission to
catch her?”
Wade stared at me for a half-minute. “You’re okay with using the kid as
bait?”
The realization hit me so hard, I was seconds away from changing my
mind and charging in there to get Micah, whether he wanted to leave or not.
But that conflict didn’t last long. I had to be pragmatic about this. Katherine
Shipton was a threat, not only to Micah but to every other magical out there.
If this could be used as a way to draw her out, might as well.
I wasn’t comfortable with the idea, but I wasn’t fine with telling Micah
and his parents that we’d changed our minds, either. There had to be a limit
to our monstrosity, as members of a coven. I knew better than most what it
was like to grow up without parents. In the end, that mattered more than
almost anything. Micah had a better shot at a healthy and happy childhood
with Susan and Larry around. Even with mind-wiping and other magical
tricks, the trauma of separation could still leave marks on a child’s
subconscious. I didn’t want that for Micah.
The front door opened. Santana came out and dropped a small leather
pouch in the flower planter next to her, then came to the car.
“We got a problem,” she said as she got in. “Found this in a trinket bowl
in the lobby.”
She handed Wade a small business card. There was a symbol on its back
—an eye in the middle of a triangle, framed by a circle, embossed in black.
Wade turned it over and read the front.
 “The Ryder twins,” he said. “From the San Diego Coven?”
“Yeah, the weirdest thing happened in there,” Santana explained. “I put
charms and traps in place to alert us if anything happens and summoned an
Orisha to keep an eye on Micah at all times. All that was fine, until I found
this card. I asked Susan about it, but she had no idea. Neither did Larry. Or
Micah. No one knew how it had gotten there. They don’t remember anyone
else from the coven coming to visit. They only employ a babysitter once in a
while, and occasionally the neighbors visit for a barbecue. That’s it.”
“Okay, that’s weird,” Raffe said, then took the card from Wade and
sniffed it. I stilled as his eyes glimmered red for a split second.
“There are no Ryder twins in the San Diego Coven,” Wade replied.
“There’s no trace of anything or anyone on this,” Raffe concluded.
“Normally, there would be the scent of a person’s touch, at least. But there’s
nothing. Which is even weirder.”
I didn’t have time to wonder about Raffe’s ability to track scents like a
friggin’ wolf at that point. We had a bigger concern: who’d left the card?
“Why don’t the Cranstons remember? Do you think their memories were
wiped?” I asked.
Santana shook her head. “I had my Orishas scan them. There was no
memory tampering.”
“So, someone snuck in and left it there?” I replied, even more confused.
Wade turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life, and he
looked at us. “Or someone they know isn’t who they think,” he offered.
“We’ll need to look into them. And we need to tell Tatyana and the others
about it. Astrid can check our systems for the Ryder twins.”
“Have you ever heard of them?” Santana asked, checking the card again.
“No. But there’s got to be a reason why that card was left there,” Wade
replied.
A thought crossed my mind, raising the hairs on my back. “Do you think
it was left there for us to find?”
“Maybe. Thing is, it says ‘The Ryder Twins of the San Diego Coven’ on
it, but that’s not our insignia. It’s different.” Wade said, then looked at
Santana. “Call Astrid, send her a photo of the card, and ask her to check that
phone number, too. Maybe she can trace it.”
“Should we call? See who’s on the other line?” I asked.
Wade drove us out onto the main road. “Not yet. Let’s see what Astrid
comes up with first.”
In hindsight, leaving Micah seemed even more risky than before. At the
same time, laying alarms in his house could help us, if those Ryder twins
came by again. All of Santana’s charms were designed against magicals, so if
any of them came in, even posing as friendly neighbors or whatever, we’d be
notified.
 SEVEN

Tatyana

rom the moment Harley walked into the coven, I knew we had our hands
F full—and not really in a bad way, though the girl was a magnet for
trouble. I liked the team she’d unwittingly helped form. We were all misfits
in our way, but together we were stronger than most magicals in San Diego.
I’d been looking forward to another mission with Harley on board. It was
never boring.
Case in point, Santana called me to share some updates, sooner than I’d
expected.
“We found a business card from the San Diego Coven—” Santana began.
“Was it from the Ryder twins?” I asked, turning over the card I had
spotted in the Travis family’s seashell trinket holder.
I’d been going over things with Linda and Evan, Mina’s magical parents.
Of course, we’d had no idea they were magical—they were new to San
Diego, having moved here less than a year ago, and they’d yet to reach out to
the San Diego Coven.
“You found one, too?” Santana asked. She sounded as uneasy as I felt.
“Yeah. Not good, huh?” I replied.
“It’s a little fishy, but we can’t exactly connect it to Katherine Shipton
right now. It’s cause for concern, though. Are you still at the Travis house?”
“Mm-hm. Going over the details with Mina’s parents. How’s it going
over there?” I muttered, occasionally glancing at Linda.
 Santana chuckled. “Harley got Wade to leave the kid with his parents and
make him attend coven classes like it’s a normal school. Granted, we had
orders, but you know Harley. He should’ve seen this coming,” she added in a
lower voice, as if not to be heard by the others in her crew.
I had to admit, it didn’t come as a surprise. It was one of the things I liked
most about Harley, actually. Rules weren’t her forte, but she had a way of
putting her foot down—and Wade conceded, which was quite a wonder to
behold.
“He’ll get used to her eventually,” I said. “I’ll let you know how the
Travis situation pans out once we’re done.”
“Good luck!” Santana replied, then hung up.
Astrid was already checking the database for the Ryder twins, using her
Smartie tablet to connect and comb through the system.
The Travis couple were sitting on the sofa, pale and worried for their six-
year-old daughter, while Dylan checked every corner of the living room and
the rest of the house for any foreign charms or spells.
“Why didn’t you contact the coven when you first got here?” I asked
Linda.
Mina was a special little girl, with Telekinesis, Water, and Air Elemental
abilities. She’d begun manifesting all three from the age of four, making it
difficult for her parents to keep her safe in an all-human elementary school.
They should’ve entered their local coven, as per the magical laws.
Linda sighed, rubbing her face in frustration, as Evan decided to keep
little Mina busy with a children’s book about a super-friendly dinosaur. In
comparison, my childhood had been the stuff of nightmares. The Russian
sorcerers, known as Kolduny, didn’t take their kids to the aquarium on the
weekend, nor did they read us stories from colorful fairytale books. No, they
took us to the graveyard to talk to dead people and made us read obituaries in
the evening, to “understand the scale and permanence of death.”
I would’ve loved to have a dad like Mina’s. Evan seemed so kind and
sweet, looking at her as if she were the very reason he was alive and
breathing. But I had to make do with what I had, and, despite the distance and
cultural differences, I did miss my mom and dad a little.
“We were Neutrals back in Baltimore,” Linda replied. “We were taking
our time here, thinking that a new home and a new school would help keep
Mina’s abilities under the radar for a little while longer.”
 “You have to understand, we grew up in covens,” Evan added. “It was
cold and impersonal, and, even though we were surrounded by magicals, we
were lonely. There was no specific attention or affection given to magical
children. There usually isn’t, and we fought hard to change that, but the
Baltimore coven wouldn’t budge. We were allowed to leave and buy a house
in the city, and we acquired our Neutral status without much of a fuss.”
“But then, Mina was born. We’d had fertility issues,” Linda said. “We
didn’t think we could even have children. She was our little miracle.” She
sighed, lovingly watching her daughter as she turned a page of her storybook.
I showed them the Ryders Twins’ card. “This was in the lobby with your
keys. Who gave it to you?”
Linda reached out to take it. She turned it over, then frowned slightly.
“They introduced themselves as Emily and Emmett Ryder. They came over a
couple of days ago and said they were from the San Diego Coven. They were
in the neighborhood and thought they’d stop by to say hello.”
“What else did they say?” I asked.
“Well, what every other coven magical says. They wanted us to come
with them or to at least have Mina attend their magical training classes,”
Linda said. “Which is why I was a little surprised to see you guys here, today.
I found the coven’s persistence to be rather… odd.”
Astrid shook her head, her gaze fixed on the tablet. “The Ryder twins
don’t work for the San Diego Coven. They’re not affiliated with us in any
way.”
“Even the logo on the card… it’s wrong. It’s not ours, though it does
claim to be ours. Maybe it’s done on purpose, to mess with us? I don’t
know,” I added, then looked at Linda again. “You should bring Mina in. You
know it’s time. Had it not been for the kindergarten incidents, we would’ve
never been alerted in the first place.”
Evan let out a breath. “Maybe it is time, honey.”
“We’re not going to live in the coven!” Linda snapped. “I spent years
trying to break free so I could have a simple life. We both did, Evan. We
want something different—better—for our little girl.”
“I completely understand that, Mrs. Travis, but these are special
circumstances,” Dylan replied, as he came back into the living room, then
gave me a brief nod. “The house is clear. What did Santana say about the
card?”
 “There was one at the Cranstons’ place, too, but they had no idea who put
it there. They checked the parents’ memories,” I said. “There was no
tampering. Whoever left the card, they did it inconspicuously, either by
sneaking in or pretending to be someone else.”
“But the Cranston kid is okay,” Astrid chimed in. “They laid charms and
traps around the house and left him to be with his parents. Alton’s going to
blow a fuse over this.” She chuckled.
“Yeah, we don’t usually let magical kids stay with their parents,” I
muttered, then retrieved the card from Linda to examine it again.
“Do you remember what the Ryder twins looked like?” Astrid asked.
“A lot like each other, for starters. The only difference, apart from the fact
that one was a woman and the other a man, was the hair,” Linda recalled.
“Emily had short black hair, and Emmett’s was long, down to his shoulders.
Both pale-skinned, with brown eyes… Nothing that stood out, really. They
looked young, in their early twenties.”
“They were nice and friendly,” Evan replied. “They weren’t pushy or
persistent. But they did say it would be safer for Mina if she went to live in
the coven. Of course, we said no, not without us, and they said we could go
with them, too.”
Dylan groaned, looking out the window. “What is their endgame? I don’t
get it.”
My phone beeped. It was a text from Wade, which puzzled me. I read it
over and over, five times, then decided to do what he asked. “Dylan, I’ve got
a bag of charms in the trunk. Would you mind bringing it in, please? We need
to rig the house,” I said.
He seemed confused. “I thought we were taking them all back to the
coven with us.”
“Wade spoke to Alton about this. Turns out our director wasn’t all that
miffed about Wade leaving a magical child in his human parents’ care after
all. He said we should do the same with all the families on our list. Talk to
them, verify the magical abilities, instruct them on emergency scenarios, and
charm the hell out of their houses and cars,” I replied.
“Laying traps, basically,” Astrid said.
“And using our kids as bait?!” Linda asked, suddenly alarmed.
“Well, you two are here, and you can hold your own, right?” I retorted,
raising an eyebrow. I lacked Dylan and Santana’s sympathetic and warm
nature. I had my own way of dealing with my role as a protector of the coven
and its magicals. I focused on the strategy, with less concern for people’s
feelings. That probably made me seem coldhearted, but it also allowed me to
get tactical in every situation. It just worked for me. “We don’t know what
the Ryder twins’ intentions are, but once we set the charms, we’ll know the
instant they come back.”
“Did the Ryder twins seem aggressive or displeased with your decision to
keep Mina here?” Astrid asked.
Dylan left and came back with my charm bag, plopping it on the coffee
table. The sound of the zipper coming undone drew Mina’s attention for a
moment, before she shifted her focus back to the friendly dinosaur story.
“No. They smiled and said they understood,” Linda replied. “They also
said they’d talk to the director and make a case for us. We thanked them, then
they took off. They left the card in case we changed our minds. That was it.”
Astrid sighed. “I can’t find them in the regional database. There’s another
place I can try, but I’ll need Alton’s clearance,” she said, then texted him.
I took several small leather pouches from the bag and handed some to
Dylan. “Do the top floor. I’ll do the ground floor. Find corners, nooks, and
holes to stick them in, one per room,” I said.
He nodded before vanishing up the stairs. Linda left Evan and Mina in the
living room with Astrid, following me around the house as I looked for the
right spots to hide my little alarm charms. They were rigged to react to
foreign magicals, as I’d prepared two separate batches of charms for this type
of situation—one for non-magical households, and one for magical families.
The latter, which I was using, were more potent and aimed at magical
strangers.
“So, you think we should stay here, then,” Linda said as we stopped in the
kitchen.
I opened the counter door beneath the sink and stuffed one of the bags in
the corner, behind the garbage bin. I crinkled my nose at the smell, then got
up and washed my hands. Technically speaking, I was a bit of a germaphobe.
“For the time being, yes,” I replied, and gave her one of my cards. “This
is my personal number. If anything feels even remotely strange, call me.
Otherwise, carry on with your lives, but please, for Mina’s sake, bring her to
the coven, even if it’s just for school hours. She needs a magical environment
to properly develop and to understand the secrecy required to protect herself
and her loved ones.”
Linda nodded slowly, tearing up. “I will… I will. I just… I wanted her to
have a normal life, even if only for a couple of years.”
“That’s delusional, and you know it. Mina will never have a normal life,”
I replied, then felt a little bad when Linda seemed to get even sadder, close to
weeping. “And that’s not a bad thing at all,” I added, giving her a half-smile.
“A magical environment will nurture her more than a human school. She’ll
come out stronger from it. It’s time you accept that, Mrs. Travis.”
“I have no choice,” she said, shrugging.
“Go be with your husband and daughter, Mrs. Travis. Astrid will instruct
you on emergency scenarios, while Dylan and I finish warding your house.
And thank you for your cooperation.”
She smiled faintly and returned to the living room.
I had a couple of minutes to myself in there, enough to notice the small
symbols etched into the corners of the glass windows. Linda was doing her
part in keeping little Mina safe, but those were lightweight charms, the kind
that kept poltergeists and other angry spirits out. They kept potential
monsters away, too, in a similar fashion to ultrasound repellent devices that
the humans used to fend off rats. Not always 100 percent successful. Still,
had to give Linda props for trying.
They weren’t a stellar magical family, from what I could tell, and from
what I’d picked up from Alton’s list and notes this morning. Well, except
Mina. Linda and Evan Travis were both Mediocre, according to the info we
had on them, which was probably why the Baltimore coven hadn’t been all
that strict about them keeping their pledge and had allowed them to go
Neutral.
Movement in the backyard caught my eye.
I went outside and found a little boy sitting in the small white gazebo. He
was probably around eight years old and… dead. His figure was translucent,
as if he were just a mirage, a wisp of a being that had once walked this earth.
I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, to have died so young, but I wasn’t
surprised to see him there.
As a Kolduny, I could see dead people everywhere. Most passed on,
though I didn’t know where. The ones who stayed behind had trouble letting
go. They became ghosts, like this little boy. In rare instances and with some
rare magical paraphernalia, I could summon the dead who had already moved
on, but they never knew where they came from or what sort of place they
were going back to. They were all spirits, echoes of the living. My ability was
also tied to geography—I could only see and summon the ghosts of those
who had died in my location. I was also able to use their abilities if they were
magicals, but only if I let them enter my body, which was, more often than
not, rather risky, especially since I wasn’t yet an expert in the field.
The little boy watched me as I approached him, and frowned when he
realized I could see him.
“Who are you?” he asked.
I glanced around. This was a typical backyard. Short grass, a plethora of
flower bushes, a kiddy pool and small patio with a brick barbecue. Mina’s
toys were scattered all over: plastic flamingoes, rubber ducklings, and a pair
of underwater goggles, for her little “exploratory” missions. I understood
why Linda and Evan wanted Mina to hold on to her humanity—she could do
more of this and experience the unadulterated joy of just being a kid. I got
that.
“I’m Tatyana,” I said to the little boy.
Judging by his clothes and haircut, he’d been an altar boy at some point.
He’d died in the white robe. I could almost envision him during Sunday
mass, his mom and dad present and proud of their little boy. I swallowed
back tears, then sat in the gazebo next to him.
Unlike my family, I never had an easy time with dead people. Death was
tragic, and I couldn’t get over the sadness it instilled in me. My parents, my
brothers, and everyone else in my family got used to it. Despite my
pragmatism and cold nature, death was the one thing I failed to immunize
myself against.
“You can see me,” the boy replied.
“Yeah, I’m a little different. I’m a magical.” I sighed.
“Like Mina.”
“That’s right. And her parents,” I said.
“Yeah. But Mina’s the strong one.” The little boy chuckled. “She scares
her mom and dad all the time with her tricks. They can’t do what she does.”
“No, they can’t. So, you know about magicals, then?” I asked, and he
nodded. “Were you a magical, too?”
He shook his head. “I was just a boy.”
“How come you’re still here?” I asked.
 He shrugged. “I like it here. This used to be my house. I lived here with
my mom and three sisters.”
“Oh, wow, three sisters?” I exclaimed, smiling. He mirrored my
expression, showing off a small gap between his front teeth. He was the
sweetest little thing. “What’s your name?”
“Will.”
“What happened to you, Will? Do you remember?” I asked, my voice
unsteady. This was always a difficult question to ask. Some spirits didn’t
remember, but most did, and it was never a good experience. They were
mostly calm and resigned to their fate, in a way, even though ghosts were still
stuck in this realm—but when they remembered their deaths, most became
irritable, even angry and erratic. Some were so traumatized by what had
happened to them that all they did was replay their death, over and over, on a
heartbreaking loop. Those were death specters, and it took a lot of time spent
as a ghost to degenerate into one.
Looking at Will, I wished I could say or do something to help him move
on, before he, too, got lost in such a loop. There was no cure for ghosts. No
way to make them disappear. They had to move on, or they got stuck in
limbo. I used to ask the spirits that had passed on for advice—trying to find a
way to help ghosts move on, too. But all I ever got was “let go.” That didn’t
really help.
“Someone hurt me,” he replied. “Someone like Mina. Powerful, but mean
and evil.”
My blood ran cold. A magical had killed him. “Do you remember when,
Will?”
He shook his head once more. “It was too long ago. I lost track of time.”
I would’ve loved to have more time to spend with him, but the dead
weren’t going anywhere. I, on the other hand, had other places to be and
more magicals to protect. I put my hand out, smiling at him.
“Touch me,” I said to him.
Will sighed, sadness settling in his round blue eyes. “I can’t. It goes right
through. I tried touching Mina and her parents and everybody else I came
across, but I can’t feel anything.”
“Try it,” I replied.
He frowned, then put his little hand over mine. I could feel him, cold and
almost liquid. He gasped when he realized he could feel me, too. “Whoa.
How are you doing that?”
“I’m a special kind of magical.” I chuckled. “The dead can feel me. It’s
weird, I know, but many actually find it comforting.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, gently caressing my hand.
A magical had killed this beautiful little boy. The worst part was that Will
had died here, or somewhere in the area. Without a timeframe, however, I
couldn’t make much of his circumstances.
“I need your help, Will,” I said. He raised his eyebrows at me, genuinely
curious. He seemed willing to help, most likely impressed by the fact that he
could touch me. I always employed this little trick to gain a ghost’s
cooperation. It worked, most of the time. “Now that you’ve felt me, you can
find me anywhere. Just think of me and call out my name, and I will hear
you.”
“Okay…”
“I need you to keep an eye on Mina for me,” I added. “She may or may
not be in danger. We don’t know anything for sure yet. But I’ve charmed the
house, and I was hoping you’d stick around and watch over her. If she’s in
trouble, just reach out to me.”
He thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “It’s because of the
twins, huh?”
“You heard that?”
“Yeah. I saw and heard everything,” he replied. “I always do, even
through walls.”
“Were you here when they came?”
“I was. But I couldn’t really see them,” Will said, his shoulders dropping
in disappointment. “There was something about their faces… I can’t describe
it. Mina and her parents couldn’t see it, or they would’ve screamed or gotten
scared or something. But I’ll tell you, their faces were made of… black
smoke. And I couldn’t hear what they were saying, either. It was all warbled,
like a bad radio!”
This was an interesting account, to say the least. I already knew that
ghosts could sometimes see what our eyes couldn’t. That they could hear
what we couldn’t. Will’s recollection made me think that the Ryder twins
were more than just imposter magicals maybe working for Katherine Shipton.
It didn’t feel like such a leap, in my opinion, with what we’d recently been
through, particularly since we knew that Finch wasn’t her only “minion.” No
self-respecting evil-doer would work alone.
There was something about them—something that a ghost had registered.
Digging through my memories, I remembered reading about charms that
could conceal someone from spirits. Maybe the twins had used something
similar. I would have to ask my mom about that, and such a phone call was
never easy to make. Well, my mom didn’t make it easy. Ever.
I didn’t yet have the ability to see through a spirit’s eyes. That was a rare
and difficult power to attain, and it came with years of practice and all kinds
of unsavory herbal cocktails. My mother kept pressuring me to go back to
Moscow, so she could initiate me in the process, but I loved San Diego too
much. I was just beginning to make friends, to build a life here. I didn’t want
to go back.
The Vasilis clan and I didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye.
“Sorry I can’t help you more,” Will added, breaking my train of thought.
“Thank you,” I replied gently. “It’s okay. Take care of yourself, Will.”
He smiled, watching me as I went back inside the house. Astrid had just
finished briefing Linda and Evan, with Mina curiously listening. Dylan came
downstairs, giving me a wink and a smile when he reached the ground floor.
My heart skipped a beat. There was something about that boy. I felt…
different around him, in the best way possible. I wasn’t a Vasilis daughter or
a Kolduny when I was around him. I was just Tatyana, and it was such a
relief.
Of course, I didn’t let him know that. I didn’t want him to be aware of the
effect he had on me. That was my little secret.
“House is double-checked and warded,” he announced.
“Good, we should go,” I replied as we went back inside the living room.
“We still have families to visit. Oh, and by the way, I just had a brief chat
with a kid who died here. Killed by a magical, but I’ll fill you in on the
details later… And I think it’s best not to mention it to the parents at all. I
might just end up scaring them over something that could turn out to be really
old news. They have enough on their plate.” I didn’t yet know when Will had
died, but I was going to find out—provided, of course, that his death had
made it into some news or records.
Dylan nodded. “All right.”
Whoever or whatever the Ryder twins were, I wanted to make sure we
could catch them. Whatever their intentions, I was dead set on finding out. If
they were after Mina and the other magical kids, they’d have to deal with us.
Most importantly, if they were in any way involved with Katherine
Shipton, they were in a lot of trouble with me, personally. That witch had
already ruined so many lives, especially Harley’s. Magic was Chaos and
wonder, light and darkness, fire and ice, laughter and tears—a mixture of
everything, but always in a splendid balance. What Katherine was doing,
through Finch and his gargoyles, through the strings of murders and plotting
against our community… it was filthy and obscene.
And I wasn’t going to have any of it.
 EIGHT

Harley

ontrary to what I’d expected, Alton wasn’t all that furious about my
C intervention. I didn’t hear the entire conversation he’d had with Wade
over the phone, but I didn’t hear any shouting. That, in my book, was a good
sign.
According to Wade, Alton had protested the idea at first, then stopped
and rethought the whole thing, in light of these Ryder twins. He’d agreed to
let the magical children stay with their families, human or otherwise, so long
as we placed charms and traps to notify us of any magical occurrences. These
families were our best bet to catch the Ryder twins, and he doubted they’d
come after them inside the coven. Alton didn’t say if he knew who the Ryder
twins were, but he was going to give Astrid the clearance she needed to do a
nationwide search for them.
Personally, I was still worried about my decision. Maybe it would’ve
been better if we took the kids with us, after all. Angry at myself over my
own inconsistency, I didn’t say much during our next visit. I let Wade take
the lead as he told the parents what was going on with their child, since they
were humans and had no idea what a magical was.
After a barrage of questions and voiced concerns, we managed to get
them to send their son to the coven on a daily basis, while Santana left
charms and traps, as per the new protocol. The Orisha she’d left with Micah
was more for Santana’s peace of mind, as she’d quickly become fond of the
boy. She couldn’t leave one at every house, since there were only so many
with her to begin with.
What we were doing wasn’t exactly ethical, since the parents didn’t know
about any rumors regarding Katherine Shipton, or that anyone else might be
coming for their kids—yet this family had been secretly visited by the Ryder
twins, too.
We found the card in their hallway, stuck in the mirror frame. Just like
with the Cranstons, the Ledermeyers had no recollection of such a visit taking
place. Only then did we manage to establish a pattern, based on intel from
Tatyana, Dylan, and Astrid’s second family visit, where the parents were
magicals, like the Travises.
“The Ryder twins engage the magical parents and try to get them to hand
their kids over, politely, and not in a persistent or disturbing manner,” Wade
said as we drove through a familiar neighborhood. “They leave the card, their
names. They’re seen and remembered. Whereas, with the human parents,
they don’t interact. My guess is that they sneak in and leave the card.”
“As a message to us?” Santana asked from behind.
“I guess so, since they claim to be from the San Diego Coven,” Wade
replied, looking at the twins’ business card. “We were apparently supposed to
find the cards. I think they must have some kind of magical pull. Otherwise,
what guarantee would there be that we’d even notice them in the houses
during a visit? They’re not placed in the most obvious of spots, yet here we
are, finding them.”
“Who could these people be?” Raffe asked, still playing games on his
phone. He seemed sullen and distracted, not his usual calm and friendly self.
I’d seen him like this before, but I never knew why he experienced these
sudden mood changes. My instinct told me to leave him alone, though, so I
did.
“Impostors. But definitely magicals. My money’s on Katherine Shipton.
It coincides with the rumors we’ve heard, don’t you think?” Santana replied
with a shrug.
“Which makes me all the more uneasy to leave the kids in their homes,”
Wade said, giving me a sideways glance.
I had nothing to say to that. He was right, and I felt bad about it, but, at
the same time, I knew and understood the importance of capturing Katherine
Shipton before she did more harm to the magical community. She’d almost
killed us all with Finch’s help. It was safe to assume that she would try the
same or worse the second time around.
Ugh, my life was already complicated enough, before I opened my damn
mouth.
I looked out and noticed St. Clair’s Café just half a block down the road.
My face lit up, remembering the second reason I’d chosen to come with
Wade, Santana, and Raffe to this side of town. The Smiths lived nearby, and I
hadn’t seen them in a while—before my induction into the coven and its
cornucopia of weird and potentially deadly, to be precise.
Ryann was away at UCLA, so I figured they’d welcome a visit from their
foster daughter instead.
“Can we stop at the café for a break? There’s someone I need to see
nearby,” I said, pointing at St. Clair’s.
Wade frowned. “Who do you need to see?”
“My foster parents. I just want to drop by and check in on them, that’s all.
Fifteen minutes, tops. I promise!” I replied, putting on my most innocent
puppy face.
“I could use a break and a bagel,” Santana chimed in.
“I need coffee,” Raffe added, his voice low and gruff. It was a tad weird,
as if it wasn’t really Raffe talking. I’d heard it before over the past few
weeks, but never for long enough to make me worry. Santana and Wade
didn’t show any signs of concern. I was definitely intrigued, making a mental
note to find the courage and a good moment to ask him about his abilities as a
warlock. Those glimmering red eyes I’d seen earlier were definitely involved.
“Fine. You’ve got twenty minutes, Merlin,” Wade commanded, pulling
over just outside the café.
“Make it thirty. There’s always a line for the bakery,” I pleaded, as we
got out of the car. “I can’t go to the Smiths empty-handed.”
Wade rolled his eyes and motioned for me to go ahead. He didn’t say
anything, so I took his gesture as a “Whatever.” Worked for me.
I left him, Raffe, and Santana at one of the tables outside, while I went in
and grabbed three lattes and a small pastry basket, complete with scones and
banana walnut bread—Mrs. Smith’s favorites, and always a good bribe
whenever I needed a favor. They also worked as a peace offering, and I’d had
to get her plenty of those for my somewhat turbulent two years in prep
school.
 This time, however, they were just a heartfelt gift, something I knew
would put a smile on Mrs. Smith’s face and would save Mr. Smith the trouble
of brewing more coffee before lunch.

When Mrs. Smith opened the door and saw me, she let out a gasp, then
beamed like a nuclear reactor.
“Harley!” she croaked, a broad smile stretching her lips. “What a joy!
What brings you here, honey? It’s been a while!”
That was her way of saying, “I’ve missed you, and where the heck have
you been, child?!”
I laughed as she leaned forward and kissed my cheeks. She then relieved
me of the pastry basket, her eyes twinkling with delight.
“I know, and I’m sorry!” I replied. “I’ve been insanely busy lately, but I
was in the area with work, so I thought I’d pop by and say hello.”
I followed her inside the house as she led the way into the open-plan
kitchen and dining room. This was still one of the best and most decent
houses I’d lived in. It was simple and tastefully decorated in a pale blue and
beige palette, with hardwood flooring and Art Nouveau lighting. The
furniture was all sturdy and functional, and every surface had a little statuette
or trinket box or anything that could serve as a decorative object. There was a
reason why Ryann and I had gone to such a design-oriented prep school. Mrs.
Smith had also been a student there.
Mr. Smith was in the kitchen, wiping his hands with a dry cloth. Over by
the counter island stood a teenage boy in cream cargo pants and a pale blue
polo shirt—the preppy uniform belonging to the same school. Ryann and I
had worn cream skirts, which we’d both hated with the fire of a thousand
suns. Looking back now, I understood why Ryann had been so quick to
change to pantsuits in college.
“Well, it’s a pleasure to have you here!” Mrs. Smith replied as she put the
basket on the counter island, right in front of the boy. He seemed equally
dazzled by banana walnut bread, from what I could tell and feel in my
tummy. Either that, or he was just hungry. Mrs. Smith took the coffees away,
helping herself to one and handing the second over to the boy.
She pointed at the third. “Harley, you’re getting that one. Dad here needs
to cut down on the caffeine!”
 I chuckled, just as Mr. Smith hugged me, equally thrilled to see me. “Oh,
Harley, glad to have you back! We’ve missed you!”
“I know… I’m sorry. I promise I’ll visit more often,” I said, relishing the
feel of his fatherly embrace. With everything I’d learned over the past month,
I needed this. So much.
As soon as I stepped back, however, I noticed the slight awkwardness in
the room. There was always love in this place, and happy thoughts lingered
from these people, but this time, it was a little different. The young man was
excited and nervous—mostly because of me. We looked at each other for a
little while as Mr. and Mrs. Smith exchanged glances.
“Harley, I want you to meet Jacob,” Mrs. Smith said.
I shook the boy’s hand and found myself instantly flooded by a mixture
of adolescent emotions—hormonal angst, curiosity and… concern. The latter
was a feeling I hadn’t felt since I’d first set foot in the Smiths’ house. He was
afraid he’d get carted off to another family. Jacob was a foster kid, like me. I
could feel it in my bones.
“You’re fostering again,” I murmured, giving Jacob a warm smile. “I’m
Harley. Also a black garbage bag kid.”
“Oh,” Jacob replied, genuinely surprised. “You… You’re the Harley.”
I laughed as Mr. Smith took out some plates from the cupboard and
proceeded to serve up the scones and banana walnut bread slices. “The
Harley? I take it I’m still famous in this household?”
“Of course!” Mrs. Smith exclaimed. “We always gush about you!”
“Harley, by the way, I ran into Malcolm at the grocery store the other
day,” Mr. Smith interjected. “He said you’re working with Homeland
Security now? Did I hear that right, sweetie?”
“I forgot y’all know each other,” I said, wearing a nervous smile.
Surprisingly, I wasn’t the one on edge in that room. Jacob was close to
screaming and running away, from what I was feeling.
Jeez, kid. What’s gotten you so shaken up?
“Yeah, he was sorry to see you leave the casino job. I was surprised,
actually,” Mr. Smith replied. “I thought you loved that place! I mean, for
your gap year, anyway.”
“Speaking of which, have you decided on any colleges yet, honey?” Mrs.
Smith asked. “Remember, our offer to help you with your tuition still stands.
I know you want your financial independence and whatnot, but we do have a
little set aside. Don’t fall into some student loan trap, okay?”
I smiled. How could I not love these people when they were so kind and
generous, and had always treated me as their own?
“I’m okay for now,” I said. “I haven’t decided on a school yet, but my
worst-case scenario is another gap year until I make up my mind. I’m homing
in on a career choice, though, and this Homeland Security gig has definitely
opened up some new horizons for me.”
“That’s so good to hear, sweetie!” Mrs. Smith replied. “I guess this new
job will definitely look good on any college application, right?”
“Oh, absolutely,” I murmured. I felt bad for lying to them, but they
deserved to be ignorant of everything magical. The whole secrecy thing was
beginning to make a lot more sense to me, especially after my struggles with
Finch and the gargoyles. There were creatures out there that these wonderful
people didn’t need to know about.
I looked at Jacob, irked by his stretched nerves. “You don’t have to worry
about me, dude, I’m not a narc or anything,” I said to him, grinning. “I’m just
an agent in training. We deal with domestic and foreign terrorists, not unruly
teenagers.”
Mr. and Mrs. Smith both laughed. Jacob only gave me a weak smile.
“So, when did you decide to foster again?” I asked Mrs. Smith.
“Oh, a few weeks ago,” she replied, putting a slender arm around Jacob.
The Smiths were beautiful people in their late forties, much like those stylish
couples in American fashion catalogs—the handsome, mid-forties couples
who wore cardigans and played tennis on Sunday.
In an eerie but sweet contrast, Jacob was remarkably different. The
Smiths were both blond-haired and brown-eyed, tall and slim and perfectly
tanned. Jacob was slightly shorter than me, stocky but toned, with long black
hair and hazel-green eyes. His cheekbones and caramel skin tone had some
serious Native American influences, but there was also Latino blood in this
boy.
“Jacob is sixteen, and he just enrolled at your school,” Mr. Smith said,
giving Jacob a warm smile. “He’s been with us for two weeks now.”
Jacob nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
“Well, tell you what, Jake—mind if I call you Jake?” I asked. He smiled.
That was my okay to chop his name up for my verbal comfort. “Tell you
what, Jake, you’re the luckiest boy in the San Diego foster system. The
Smiths are amazing.”
Jacob chuckled. He was so shy but so eager to fit in, to settle, and to be
loved. Everything he felt, I’d felt, too. He needed patience and
encouragement, understanding and nurturing, and the Smiths were definitely
the right people to do that.
“I know. They’ve been so great,” he said.
“Aw, honey, you deserve it and more!” Mrs. Smith replied, dropping a
kiss on his temple.
“Do you know anything about your biological parents?” I asked him,
nagged by his underlying feeling of guilt and fear. Jacob was worried about
something, and, judging by how bright and jovial the Smiths were, he hadn’t
spoken to them about whatever it was.
Jacob shook his head. “Never met them. Don’t know their names,” he
said, his voice lower than usual. I sensed deception, but I didn’t want to make
a scene.
I was planning to dig into his past later, anyway. For now, I settled on
getting to know him better and reading his emotions. I hadn’t seen the Smiths
in months. The last thing I wanted was to start an unpleasant conversation
based on my Empathy, which they had no idea about, anyway. I, too, was
lying to them, after all.
“Well, you’re in good hands now, young man,” Mr. Smith replied before
motioning for the door. “Now, grab your bag and let’s go. Your coach will
kill us if we’re late again!”
Jacob gave him an enthusiastic smile, then picked up his lacrosse stick
and training bag off the floor. Mr. Smith hugged me again and kissed the top
of my head.
“It’s Jacob’s third practice with Coach Mueller,” he explained. “You
know how tardiness gets his pants in a twist!”
I laughed. “Hah, the old tortoise is still kicking, huh?”
“Harley!” Mrs. Smith gasped, in a delicate attempt to reprimand me.
I gave her a shrug, noticing Jacob’s amusement. He knew what I was
talking about. “What? He does look like a tortoise.”
Mr. Smith chuckled, grabbed one of the pastry plates, waved us goodbye,
and walked out, followed by Jacob, who gave me a brief glance over the
shoulder. A few seconds later, the front door closed behind them. Jacob was
definitely worried about something, but I wasn’t sure what. I was going to
find out, though. Covertly. Behind the Smiths’ backs. Like the sneaky little
devil that I’d become…
Mrs. Smith kept smiling at me, and her affection filled me with warmth.
Ryann had inherited more than her good looks; kindness ran in the family.
“What?” I asked, blushing.
“You are getting even more beautiful, honey,” she replied, before taking a
bite out of a scone and moaning with sheer pleasure. “My God, these are
amazing. St. Clair’s, huh?”
“Just around the corner,” I said with a grin. “And thank you.”
“How’ve you been, Harley? Something’s different about you.”
Leave it to Mrs. Smith to read me like an open book!
I couldn’t tell her everything, but I could at least share one important
update with her. “I found my biological parents,” I said.
She stilled, her eyes wide with shock. “Oh, wow… Who are they?”
“Were. They’re both dead,” I replied, my voice trembling slightly.
“Hester and Hiram Merlin. They were from New York. I’m not sure how I
ended up in San Diego, but… at least I know where I come from.”
“Honey. I’m so sorry.” Mrs. Smith sighed, putting the scone down and
taking my hands in hers. I welcomed the instant flow of affection. There
wasn’t pity there, but rather sadness. She would’ve wanted me to find my
parents alive and well, without worrying about competition. She knew she’d
been an amazing mom for the two years that she and her husband had me.
They’d always own a huge piece of my heart.
“It’s okay. I got closure, I guess,” I said, giving her a weak smile. “So,
tell me about Jacob! What’s he like?”
Mrs. Smith instantly deflated. Mild sadness poured through me like a cold
shower.
“He’s a wonderful kid, you know?” she replied. “He’s quiet, doesn’t get
into any trouble. Smart as a whip! But… I think he went through something. I
think he had some bad experiences before, Harley. Like, really bad.”
“What makes you say that?”
“He’s got crippling night terrors. He wakes up screaming and sweating,”
Mrs. Smith explained. “I tried to talk to him about it. I spoke to Social
Services, too, but they couldn’t tell me anything. They said his last foster
mom died, which was why he went back into the system, but that he’d been
treated well, and that he was always on his best behavior. I don’t know,
maybe Social Services wasn’t aware or something. You know how abusers
can be, hiding in plain sight and deceiving everyone.”
I nodded. “Yeah. All too well. How did his previous foster mom die,
though?”
“I think it was a heart attack or a stroke. One of the two. It was sudden.
No one saw what happened.”
“Maybe Jacob is still recovering from that. It can be traumatic to lose a
good foster parent, you know,” I muttered, glancing around the kitchen. I
smiled at the sight of souvenir fridge magnets. Half of those Ryann had
collected during her European trips. I recognized Mrs. Smith’s handwriting
on a shopping list, caught under one of the magnets. I had so many good
memories of this place, and I found myself wanting the same for Jacob.
“I get that, but I think there’s more to it than that. I don’t know, call it a
mother’s intuition,” Mrs. Smith replied, then put on a pleading puppy dog
face. I knew I’d learned that from someone… “Harley, can you help me?”
I blinked several times. Hope blossomed in my chest. That was all hers.
“If I can, sure.”
“Come by more often. Spend some time with Jacob whenever you can,”
she said, squeezing my hands. “You still have the house keys. You don’t
even have to announce that you’re coming. Just pop by once in a while, play
a video game with him. Take him out for ice cream or something. I think
he’ll be more likely to open up to you as a foster kid than me, the oblivious
suburban mom,” she added, laughing lightly. “I’m thinking he’ll at least feel
better if he talks about it. I don’t need to know what happened, if I’m being
honest. I just want him to forget the past and look into the future. I want
Jacob to sleep well at night and live a better life here with us.”
Her request kind of floored me. It also made me feel incredibly important
and responsible, all of a sudden. Deep down, I liked it. I would’ve loved a
little brother while growing up. Most of the kids I got attached to never
stayed in my life for too long. Maybe Jacob was different.
The fear and guilt I’d caught from him did warrant my curiosity and
concern. Assuming these emotions were linked to his night terrors, I figured I
could at least try to help the boy. I owed it to the Smiths for having been such
good parents, and I owed it to Jacob, too, in a way. Mrs. Smith was right. He
deserved a good shot at life.
Getting rid of whatever skeletons were in his closet sounded like the right
way to get started.
“Okay. I’ll do it,” I replied.
In less than a millisecond, Mrs. Smith had her arms wrapped around me.
“Thank you, sweetie. Thank you so much. You are a great sister to Ryann,
and I know you’ll be an even better sister to Jacob.”
I melted in her embrace, overwhelmed by the pure love and positivity
oozing out of this woman. She could be really intense sometimes, but she was
a beam of sunshine in my life. So, yeah, stopping by to talk to the kid once in
a while wasn’t an issue for me. After everything the Smiths had given me, it
was the least I could do.
 NINE

Tatyana

here was something odd about the Hellers’ house. I could tell from the
T moment we got out of Dylan’s silver Prius, for which we never ceased to
torment him.
The house itself was nice and in the local suburban style, with two levels,
a few palm trees framing the stony pathway, and flowers bursting through the
front yard. Nothing out of the ordinary. But there was a vibe that just didn’t
sit well with me, as if the air was thick and eager to suffocate me.
Astrid and Dylan didn’t seem affected. I brushed the feeling away for the
time being, blaming the uneasiness on my previous encounter with the ghost
of little Will—whose death was beginning to nag me. On the way here, I’d
used my smartphone to briefly check for any news about a kid’s murder at
Mina’s house, but I’d found nothing. Astrid had also put a search through
Smartie, but no results had come up yet.
“Maria and Damian Heller,” Dylan said, reading out loud from the file.
“They’re fostering Kenneth Willow, aged seventeen. His parents died in a car
crash when he was twelve, and he had no immediate family, so he wound up
in the system.”
“If I’m not mistaken, there were reports of objects flying around in his
presence, right?” I asked, while Astrid continued to work on her Smartie
tablet. She was trying different keywords through the local database, while
waiting for Alton to send her the clearance codes for the national database.
 Dylan nodded. “Yeah. Plus some violent incidents at school, but most
were attributed to a couple of kids with mental problems.”
I knocked once and waited patiently with Dylan and Astrid by my side.
“Do you think they’re home?” Astrid asked, her eyes glued to the screen.
“Their car is here,” I said, pointing at the Chrysler in the small driveway.
I knocked a second time, this time loudly enough to startle some birds in a
nearby bush. “They’re home.”
It took a third knock to hear footsteps in the hallway.
The door opened, and we were greeted by Maria Heller. She was a Latina
woman, a buxom beauty wearing a white shirt and casual jeans, with her long
black hair caught in a tight bun. Her wide brown eyes fixed on me for a
moment, but her expression was firm and… blank.
“Can I help you?” she asked, her tone clipped.
“Hi, Mrs. Heller?” I replied. She nodded and crossed her arms. I noticed
her hands shaking. A little red light went on in my head. “I’m Tatyana Jones,
and these are my colleagues, Dylan and Astrid,” I said, following the fake
last name protocol as I flashed my ID card. “We’re from Social Services.
We’re doing our monthly visit, and we thought we’d stop by to see how you
were doing.”
She frowned. That was never a good sign. “We had Social Services come
in on Wednesday. You guys getting confused now, or what?”
“This is a follow-up visit,” I replied calmly, watching her expression.
“Mind if we come in?”
Maria thought about it for a second, then sighed and motioned for us to
follow her inside.
“Kenneth! Social Services is here!” she called out as she advanced
through the hallway. She stopped and looked to her left. Her nostrils flared
before she put on a faint smile. “There you are, sweeties.”
She went into the living room. As soon as we joined her, I got that
nagging feeling in my chest again—this time threatening to gnaw at my
stomach. The living room area was decorated in a hacienda style. I
recognized the arches and walnut furniture. I’d seen a similar arrangement
back in my parents’ summer house, on the outskirts of Mexico City.
In the middle, stiffly seated in a leather armchair, was Damian Heller,
wearing a white polo shirt and what I lovingly referred to as “dad jeans.” On
the sofa, casually leaning on its left arm, was Kenneth Willow. Kenneth
caught my eye—his outfit was crisp and neat, with starched cream pants, a
white shirt, and beige vest, complete with a dark red bowtie. His reddish hair
was combed back and loaded with styling gel, and his bright green eyes
darted from me to Dylan and Astrid, then back to me.
He put on a broad smile as Maria stood with her arms crossed.
“Hi, I’m Kenneth!” the seventeen-year-old magical said.
I knew he was a magical for sure because of the small gem mounted on
his bowtie. It was bright red, but it had a strange white glimmer. I’d learned
to spot an Esprit before anyone else. This wasn’t an inexperienced warlock.
This one had found his Esprit.
“I’m Tatyana, and these are Dylan and Astrid. It’s a pleasure to meet
you,” I replied, mirroring his friendly expression.
“What brings you here?” he asked. He looked at his mother and nodded at
the spare seat next to him. Maria sat down next to him, keeping her slightly
shaking hands in her lap and her eyes fixed on a random spot on the coffee
table in front of them. “Social Services was already here. We’re doing fine.”
“I know, Kenneth. We’re just here to follow up, that’s all. We take great
care to make sure that the children we place in foster homes are well looked
after,” I said. “Mind if I ask who visited you from Social Services on
Wednesday?”
Damian was quiet as a tomb, beads of sweat trickling down his temples.
He stared at me with what looked like crippling fear, despite his faint smile.
Something was definitely wrong with this picture, and I didn’t want to start
trouble without knowing what was wrong.
Kenneth seemed strangely relaxed and cold compared to his foster
parents.
“They asked the usual questions. You know, am I being treated well? Am
I happy? How is my school life? What’s it like at home? How many meals a
day? Yadda, yadda, yadda.” He chuckled. “Everything is okay here. My new
mom and dad take great care of me and I, in return, look after them.”
I caught a glimpse of Maria as she gave Kenneth a sideways glance. All
of a sudden, I regretted not bringing Harley with us. She could always read a
room better than anyone. The perks of being an Empath.
“Mind if my colleagues sit down?” I asked, pointing at the spare two-
seater on the other side of the coffee table.
“Oh, by all means, please do,” Kenneth replied, wearing that annoying
plastic smile.
I’d met enough people in my life to know when someone was trying to
lead me on. Kenneth was still younger than me. He’d yet to fully master the
art of deception, but he was definitely well versed in it.
Dylan and Astrid occupied the two-seater, while I remained standing. I
moved farther to my left, where the fireplace was. The mantelpiece was
loaded with family photos and various trinkets collected mostly from Mexico
—I recognized the colorful patterns and designs. The Hellers were eager
Mexico vacationers, from what I could tell. They’d taken Kenneth with them,
too, judging by the photos, but their postures and smiles were strained in
those particular snapshots.
“Can you tell me the names of the Social Services employees who visited
you?” I asked, my eyes fixed on a small marble bowl. There was a card there.
The symbol was all too familiar. I picked it up between two fingers, then
handed it to Dylan.
“Jane and John. But I forget their last names,” Kenneth said. “Nice
people, though. Really nice. They gave me a voucher for Wendy’s.”
I nodded slowly, watching Dylan’s expression change as he reached the
same conclusion—the Ryders had been here. He showed the Hellers the card.
“Cheapskates. Have you spoken to these people?”
Damian frowned and shook his head.
“No,” Maria replied.
“But they were here,” I said.
Maria shrugged. “No, they weren’t. I don’t know where that came from.
It doesn’t look familiar to me.”
“Kenneth, have you spoken to anyone named Emily and Emmett Ryder,
by any chance? Did they give you this card?” I asked, shifting my focus back
to the young magical.
His eyebrows arched upward. “No. That’s strange. I wonder who left that
there…”
Maria shot to her feet, suddenly switching into a friendly-housewife-
mode. “Would anyone like some horchata? I’ve just made a fresh, whole
pitcher.”
“I’d love some, thank you,” I said, smiling.
She nearly flew out of the living room, while I kept my eyes on Kenneth
and Damian. Damian couldn’t even look at his foster son. I would’ve given
anything to have Harley with us, at that point.
“So, Kenneth, what school are you enrolled in?” I asked.
“Gompers Prep,” he replied. “I love it there. Everyone is nice. I’m on the
debate team and on the baseball team! There’s also a girl I like. I’m happy
here.”
Ugh, I wasn’t buying it. It was as if he was trying a little too hard to
convince me that everything was okay. My stomach was churning, and Dylan
didn’t seem convinced, either.
“Have you thought about college yet?” Dylan asked him.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, and sorry to ask,” I interjected, “but is it okay if I
use your bathroom?” I giggled, employing the bubblegum-blonde demeanor.
That was always a good distraction. “I’ve had too much coffee.”
Kenneth chuckled, then pointed at the hallway. “Sure! It’s right next to
the kitchen.”
“Thank you!” I replied, then left the living room behind me and headed
straight for the kitchen. I heard muffled voices behind me—Kenneth
speaking to Dylan, and Astrid asking something, followed by Kenneth’s
answer.
I slipped through the kitchen door and found Maria there, struggling with
an horchata pitcher. She was shaking like a leaf.
“Hi,” I whispered. Even so, she was startled and nearly dropped the
whole thing. I rushed over to her side and gently removed the pitcher from
her trembling hands. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just—”
“You have to help us!” Maria breathed, her face pale and eyes filled with
horror. “Kenneth… There’s something horribly wrong with him.”
“Whoa,” I managed, then put the pitcher down altogether. “What’s
wrong?”
“He… He’s lost his mind. I… I don’t know how to explain it. He’s been
with us for a year now. And we knew he was… well, different. I have no
better word for that. He scared us sometimes, but we managed to get along.”
“What do you mean by ‘different’?” I asked, trying to get her to tell me
herself, though I was already suspecting what she was going to say.
“Oh, God, you’re going to think I’m crazy! Listen, there’s something
wrong with this boy, and we’ve tried. We really tried, but… we can’t
anymore, and we can’t get him out of our lives, either. He’s holding us
captive here. You have to help us. Call the police, the National Guard, the
Army—whoever can help us, please!”
“Mrs. Heller, take a deep breath,” I replied, keeping my voice low. I
could still hear them talking in the living room, which gave me the window I
needed to move things along. “Your son is special, isn’t he? As in… not all
that human.”
She froze. She knew exactly what I was talking about.
“You’ve seen what he can do?” she croaked.
“Move objects with his mind?” I replied, aiming for the ballpark on this
one.
“Listen to me… Listen very carefully. We are not bad people,” she said.
“We saw what he could do, and we kept it a secret. We wanted to keep him,
to raise him as our son. He could be difficult sometimes, but we managed.
It’s true, he scared Damian now and then, but we talked about it. We fixed it.
Then, two days ago, those people you asked about came by.”
“The Ryder twins?”
She shook her head. “Jane and John… something. They said they were
from Social Services, and that they wanted to talk to Kenneth, so… we gave
them some privacy.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. She was close to
unraveling completely.
“Then what happened?” I asked, needing to keep her focused while I tried
to start devising an action plan. This had the Ryder twins written all over it,
despite the fake names.
“I don’t know, but it’s like they flipped a switch in him!” Maria
murmured. My heart broke to see her in such a state. It reminded me why it
was so important for us to have secrecy and rules, as magicals. There was no
better example than this, really. “He went full psycho. We haven’t been able
to leave the house in two days. He put something in our food or our drinks…
I don’t know what, but when he goes out, we’re paralyzed. We can’t even
speak! And when he’s back, he torments us. He curses and beats us,” she
added, pulling up her sleeves.
My blood curdled at the sight of her cuts and bruises. Kenneth was
downright savage.
“Oh, boy,” I mumbled, feeling the rage course through my veins. “Did he
say anything? As to why he’s acting like this?”
She scoffed. “He says there’s a new era coming. That he’s going to be so
powerful with Chaos in his favor, that he doesn’t have to try so hard to be
nice, that he can do whatever the hell he wants, and that nobody can stop
him. He… He says the craziest things. He talks about witches and warlocks,
and about how he’ll kill all of them if they don’t get in line, that—”
“That’s quite a loose tongue you have on you, Ma.” Kenneth’s voice cut
through the room.
My joints and muscles stiffened, and I realized the worst-case scenario
I’d thought of was already happening. Maria yelped as an invisible force
threw her backward and over the counter. She slammed into the dinner table,
rolled over it, and landed on the marble floor, accompanied by broken glasses
and a vase that she’d inadvertently taken with her.
Kenneth stood in the kitchen doorway, his index and middle finger
pointed in our direction. The grin on his face sent chills down my spine. The
gem on his bowtie sparkled red now. I took a deep breath, trying to get a feel
for any spirits that could be hovering nearby. With no one around, I still had
my Telekinesis to use against his.
“So, you lied to us,” I remarked, my tone flat.
Kenneth rolled his eyes at me. “Obviously. The Ryders told me you’d be
coming soon,” he replied. “I made quite a mess in school, so you were bound
to be notified.”
“You know who we are, then.”
He sneered. “Yeah, and I gotta say, not impressed.”
I raised my hand to deliver a mental attack, but he was much faster than
I’d expected for a seventeen-year-old. With one flick of his wrist, he had me
up against the wall, an invisible force choking the life out of me.
“Son of a—” I grunted, struggling to release myself. “Dukhi, vykhodyat!
Dukhi, ty mne nuzhen!” I managed to call out in my native Russian,
summoning whatever spirits were in the area. One of them had to hear me.
Otherwise I was screwed.
I heard Maria moaning on the other side of the kitchen counter island. I
couldn’t see her, but from the sound of crackling glass scratching the floor, I
knew she was trying to move.
Kenneth tightened his Telekinetic grip on me, then tossed me across the
room and smacked me into another wall. The impact knocked the air out of
my lungs. For a second, everything went white.
“Dukhi, vykhodyat!” I cried out. “Dukhi—”
Dylan roared as he tackled Kenneth. Suddenly, I was free. I fell on my
knees, coughing and wheezing and relishing each deep breath that I was still
able to take. Dylan fought Kenneth like the athlete that he was, pounding him
with his fists until blood sprayed out of Kenneth’s nose.
Kenneth wasn’t done, though. He kicked Dylan in the groin and pressed
his palm against Dylan’s forehead. My arms were weak. I could barely move.
“Magicis, ecce ego bestia tua!” Kenneth chanted.
“Oh, no,” I murmured.
Latin spells in the hands of a psycho like Kenneth Willow were never
good.
Dylan’s eyes lit up yellow as he stilled. His strange gaze found mine, and
I knew, at that moment, that I was officially and royally screwed. That was
some old school hexing that Kenneth had whipped out. The kind that we’d
learned was forbidden for being lethal.
Kenneth snickered and nudged Dylan to the side. Fear crippled me as I
realized what was going on. Dylan growled like an animal, baring his teeth at
me. His yellow eyes seemed slightly bigger, red veins popping around the
eyelids.
“Yeah, so. I’ll let this mutt take care of you,” Kenneth said. “Enjoy the
remaining thirty seconds of your life, witch!”
“Kenneth, don’t do this!” I snapped. “Whatever the Ryders told you, it’s
not true.”
I managed to slowly get up as Dylan moved closer. He wasn’t himself
anymore. He’d been turned into a mindless beast, and he was about to pounce
and tear me apart.
“I’ll be late for my appointment if I waste another minute here and, well,
serving a future Child of Chaos does require some punctuality. Don’t want to
make a bad impression.”
“Kenneth, don’t!” I shouted after him, but he was already on the run,
dashing toward the kitchen back door that led into the yard.
I launched a mental lasso at him, catching his ankle, and snapped him
back. He fell flat on his face, groaning from the pain, and I managed to drag
him back several feet before Dylan came at me. I had no choice. I had to let
Kenneth go.
I focused my Telekinetic ability on Dylan instead. I pushed a barrier out,
forcing him back as he grunted and snarled, clawing at the invisible shield.
Kenneth chuckled as he slipped out the back door.
 I was so angry and distraught, I couldn’t even focus properly. Seeing
Dylan like that filled me with dread, mainly because I had no idea how to
subdue him. He was insanely strong already as a magical, but this hexed-
beast-mode made him even worse.
He broke through my mental barrier and lunged at me. I dodged and
jumped to the side, just as Dylan crashed into the kitchen counter.
“Dammit, Dylan!” I called out to him, the real him, stuck somewhere
inside his cursed head. “Dylan, I know you can hear me! You have to fight
it!”
Dylan pulled himself away from the broken counter and came at me
again. I tried to push him away with my Telekinesis, but he was too fast.
Before I could do anything else, he had me up against the wall, his hand
gripping my throat and crushing my trachea.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I croaked, struggling to breathe again.
There was definitely a pattern in this scene, and it involved me getting
choked to death.
I would’ve been the biggest embarrassment of the Vasilis clan if I let
myself go down like that. My parents weren’t even going to bother with a
tombstone for my sorry ass.
The worst part was that I couldn’t bring myself to kill Dylan. I could
reach out and perform the worst act that a Kolduny could do. I could rip the
spirit from his body—but that would not only take a dark toll on my own
soul, it would also remove Dylan from this world.
A voice in my head begged me not to do it, and I couldn’t understand
why. In any other circumstance, I would’ve resorted to udaleniye dukkha, or
“spirit removal,” but I just… I can’t.
“Dylan… Please,” I tried again, my eyes rolling back. I was about to pass
out. “Don’t make me do this… Please, fight it!”
He tightened his grip on my throat. Everything went white again.
I summoned the last droplet of energy I had left, to do the unthinkable.
My survival instinct had kicked in, and I could no longer ignore it, at the
same time hating myself for having to do this.
Then I heard a loud clang.
A second later, I was on the floor, slumped on my side, coughing and
wheezing once more. I blinked rapidly until I could see clearly again, holding
my bruised throat. My skin burned where Dylan had gripped me.
 Dylan was unconscious, lying on his back just a couple of feet away.
Maria stood in front of us, panting, with a bleeding gash on her forehead. She
firmly held a large frying pan in her hands. She’d smacked Dylan over the
head with it.
Astrid rushed into the kitchen. She’d been assaulted, too, from the looks
of her. Her lip was split and bleeding, and there were several small cuts on
the side of her face.
“Oh, God, are you okay, Taty?!” She dropped to her knees next to me.
I nodded. “I… Yeah, for the most part. What the hell happened to you?”
“Mr. Heller happened,” she managed, then looked up at Maria. “I’m
sorry, Mrs. Heller, I had to knock him out. Kenneth did something to him.”
Maria was shell-shocked, holding the pan and simply paralyzed.
“Did it involve a Latin chant?” I asked, regaining my breath.
“Yes! Where did Kenneth go?” Astrid replied, fearfully looking around.
“He’s gone. He ran off,” I said, and pointed at Dylan. “He did the same to
Dylan. We need to tie them both down. I’m not sure conking them on the
head stopped the hex.”
Astrid fumbled through my jacket pockets and fished my phone out.
“Mine got broken, sorry,” she murmured, then dialed a coven emergency
number that she’d already memorized by now. This wasn’t her first rodeo.
“Maria, are you okay?” I raised my voice. It was enough to pull her back
to reality.
She looked down at me. “No. But I’ll live.” She sighed and put the pan
down.
“Okay. Good. Now, listen to me,” I said firmly. “Do you have any cable
ties in the house? Or really strong tape or rope? Or all of the above?”
She nodded.
“Hi, Astrid here. I need a cleanup crew and a containment unit at 14
Groveland Drive,” Astrid said to whoever picked up on the other end of the
line. “Yeah, we’ve got a magical spill. A rogue warlock on the loose, too.
Kenneth Willow, seventeen. Yes. One of our own and one of the parents
were hexed. Okay, we’ll wait.”
“Yeah, in the garage,” Maria said, answering my question.
“Okay, Maria, I need you to get all of them in here,” I replied.
“All of them?” she asked.
Astrid put the phone down, then grabbed a kitchen towel and came back
to my side to wipe the blood from my face. I could feel it trickling down the
top of my head. I’d gotten thrown around like a rag doll, after all.
“Yes, Maria. We need to tie your husband and my friend down before
they come to.” I sighed.
“Well, this is a mess,” Astrid quipped.
“Yeah, I didn’t think fostering would be so difficult,” Maria mumbled as
she walked out of the kitchen.
I felt sorry for her. But I was much more concerned about Dylan at this
point. Whatever that hex was, it wasn’t going to go away with plain head
trauma. My stomach churned and my heart hurt. What would it take to get
our Dylan back?
Most importantly, I knew for a fact that we were dealing with a whole
new kind of trouble here. Those Ryder twins weren’t just impersonating
Social Services or coven staff. They were flat out recruiting young magicals
and trying to take them away from us.
Their tactics made me wonder, though. There was a methodical approach
here, and it differed from one family to another. If they were drawing
magicals to the dark side, they were employing some very personalized
strategies.
In Kenneth Willow’s case, their approach had worked.
 TEN

Harley

e all met back at the coven inside the Bestiary.

W After we heard what happened to Dylan and Damian Heller, we
were told to return from our field assignments. A cleanup team was already
handling their house and Mrs. Heller. The other half of our Rag Team was
transporting Dylan and Damian, who were temporarily contained and in need
of urgent cure. They were too unstable to be kept in the infirmary, so Tobe
was waiting for us in the Bestiary, next to two large glass boxes with brass
edges and charmed locks, similar to those he used to restrain the monsters.
The Bestiary was still a thing of wonder for me, despite the horrors it
housed. It was a giant egg-shaped hall with thousands of glass boxes in
various sizes, positioned on different levels, which were connected by narrow
sets of stairs. A central stem occupied the middle of the Bestiary, a metallic
structure with a myriad of cables, linked to each of the boxes. That was how
the Bestiary drew its energy from the monsters, before redistributing it
wirelessly to all the covens around the world.
Wade, Santana, Raffe, and I were the first ones to arrive, rushing past the
glass boxes as we made our way to Tobe. I always had to tilt my head back to
look at Tobe—the Beast Master, the only monster with a conscience. Despite
coming out of a witch’s Purge, his kind nature made him quite an asset, and
he was subsequently put in charge of the Bestiary. Also, he was tall. As in,
ridiculously tall. His lion head was adorned with a rich and luscious amber
mane, his arms were feathered, and he had talons for feet. Other than that, he
was as nice and normal as the rest of us. Sort of.
“Tatyana and some security magicals are coming in now with Dylan and
Damian Heller,” Tobe said as we reached him.
Adrenaline was already rushing through me, making my heart pound like
a very angry drum. None of us had seen it coming. No one had expected to
find a magical kid with an Esprit, corrupted by strangers and full-on psycho.
The coven had had trouble bringing magicals in before, but nothing like this
—not magicals who already knew ancient Latin curses. That was new.
The boxes that Tobe had prepared were big enough to hold two adults,
with about forty square feet of floorspace.
“I take it we’re treating them like monsters?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“We don’t know exactly what curse was used on them, and they’re acting
like beasts,” Wade replied and gave Tobe a polite nod. “Thanks for this,
Tobe.”
“They won’t turn into black smoke, if that’s what you’re worried about,”
Tobe said to me, smiling. Or at least it looked as though he was smiling. That
lion face wasn’t always easy to read.
The doors opened in the distance, followed by a rush of footsteps and
growls.
“What happened, exactly?” Tobe asked.
Wade exhaled deeply. “We’re not sure. Tatyana, Dylan, and Astrid were
visiting the Hellers, making sure their foster kid, Kenneth Willow, was
indeed a magical.”
“Turns out he’s definitely a magical, and then some!” I added.
“He attacked Tatyana and his foster mom first. Dylan intervened and—”
Wade tried to explain, until Tatyana cut him off.
“He put a curse on Dylan,” she said, panting as she dragged Dylan in by
one of the ropes used to secure him.
I held my breath at the sight of him. Something was definitely wrong—
his eyes were glowing a bright yellow, and tiny red veins had burst around
them, spreading across his cheeks, temples, and forehead. His hands were
tied behind his back with tape, rope, and cable ties, and so were his legs. He
was growling and squirming, baring his teeth at Tatyana as she maintained
her firm grip. Her strength was impressive, though adrenaline probably
played a part.
 Tobe then took over and threw him in the glass box. Dylan immediately
tried to dive out, but Tobe slammed the glass door in his face and put the
charmed lock on.
“There. He’s secured,” he said.
Astrid came in next, accompanied by two security magicals who brought
Damian Heller in. Kenneth’s dad was in a similar state, with yellow eyes and
red veins, snarling and growling and desperate to free himself. They put him
in the second box, and Tobe closed it up with another charmed lock.
One quick look at Tatyana and Astrid, and I knew they’d put up quite the
fight. They had cuts and bruises on their faces, and Tatyana was holding her
side, grimacing from the pain. They were both scared and angry. I could feel
it so intensely, it made my blood boil.
“Are you two okay?” I asked them.
They both nodded. “Yeah, just a little sore,” Astrid replied, and continued
flipping through her Smartie tablet. “I just got clearance from Alton for the
nationwide database. I’m looking for the Ryder twins there.”
“Tatyana, you don’t look so good. You should go see Krieger,” Tobe
suggested, his concern weighing on my heart.
“I’ll be fine. I’ll go after we fix them,” she said, nodding at Damian and
Dylan.
They were stuck in those glass boxes, roaring and ramming their
shoulders into the walls, trying to get out. Of course, all their efforts were
futile. These were Bestiary boxes, designed to keep actual monsters in. A
couple of hexed people didn’t stand a chance.
The security magicals left, while Tobe produced a pack of medical wipes
from his feathers. The guy had lots of useful things stashed in his winged
arms, including the Bestiary keys. I’d always wondered what else he kept in
there…
“At least clean yourselves up a little before you get to Krieger. We can’t
risk infections,” he said.
He gave a handful of wipes to Tatyana, and I took a few from the pack
and proceeded to gently dab some of the cuts on Astrid’s face.
“Thank you,” she murmured, smiling softly, then resumed her database
search while I kept cleaning her wounds.
“Okay, run us through what happened,” Wade said, looking at Tatyana,
who, in turn, had trouble taking her eyes off Dylan. There was so much
heartache beneath that calm façade, it hurt me deeply.
Tatyana explained their arrival at the Hellers’ place, followed by her
conversation with Maria in the kitchen, until Kenneth appeared and attacked
her and Maria.
“So, his behavioral change has to do with the Ryder twins, according to
his mom,” Wade concluded, frowning.
“I’m not so sure. I think he was always difficult and prone to trouble—at
least that’s what I got from Maria. But they said something to him, about a
new world, about serving the future Child of Chaos, that kind of stuff. They
turned him against the coven. Kenneth was never going to come in willingly.
Whatever the twins and Katherine Shipton are planning, he’s definitely
involved,” Tatyana replied. “They just got to him before we did. The parents
didn’t know anything about us or the coven, though. They only talked to
Kenneth, in private. It was right after their meeting that Kenneth went full
psycho on the parents.”
“They’re using different strategies on these families,” I said, my voice
trembling. “With the kids it’s more complicated. But a teenager like
Kenneth… It was probably easier to draw him into whatever they’re
scheming.”
“Oh, absolutely.” Tatyana sighed, running a hand through her blonde
hair. “I’m still not getting this whole Children of Chaos thing, though. How
does Katherine plan to do that? And what does she need magical kids for?”
Astrid shrugged. “I gave Smartie a search using the ‘Child of Chaos’
term, but there’s nothing consistent coming through. I’ll keep looking, but so
far there’s nothing on how to become one.”
“As for the young magicals, Katherine probably needs some muscle for
her own private army, who knows?” I said, trying to measure my breathing.
“What happened with Dylan? And Damian?” Wade asked.
Tatyana hesitated, and her grief hit me right in the solar plexus. Despite
that, she continued to explain everything in detail.
“What curse did Kenneth use?” Tobe replied, keeping his eyes on Dylan.
Damian was getting tired, but Dylan was still squirming in his restraints
while slamming his shoulder into the glass box. It felt horrible to see them
like this, and the helplessness we all felt was quite difficult for me to handle.
I hadn’t experienced such grief and frustration since the gargoyle incident.
“Magicis, ecce ego bestia tua,” Tatyana repeated the hex words.
 “That’s forbidden magic!” Tobe gasped. “Good grief, how did that boy
get his hands on such a spell? It’s illegal!”
“I know,” Tatyana replied. “It’s a very ugly mystery.”
Alton arrived, concern etched into his expression. “Maybe the Ryder
twins gave it to him.”
I was relieved to see Alton. There was something about his presence that
seemed to have a calming effect on my senses, sometimes. It had to do with
his tranquil nature. He never caved in, always searching for the solution,
rather than allowing himself to be consumed by the problem.
I sensed his sorrow as he looked at Dylan, then Damian.
“Oh, it’s definitely related to the Ryder twins,” Astrid interjected, her
eyes wide as she stared at the screen. She’d found something. “Emily and
Emmett Ryder, born May 1, 1988, in Rio Grande, Texas. No records of their
parents, but they were in the foster system for a while, before they were
picked up by the Houston Coven.”
“Wait, your mom’s the director there, isn’t she?” I asked Wade.
He nodded. “Yes. I’ll call her later and find out if she knows anything.
Not every archive in the covens was transferred into the magical population’s
electronic database. There’ll be hard copies somewhere.”
The magical population’s electronic database was different from our
library archives, which had been secured in their hard copy formats after a
hacking incident, according to Wade. The electronic database contained all
our information, much like the US government’s records—only ours came
with the results of our Readings and various tailored reports, depending on
whether there were suspicious or criminal activities involved. Astrid could
even put the equivalent of a BOLO out for the Ryders, and I knew it was
literally the next item on her to-do list. All the US covens had access to the
electronic database, and, sometimes, information from there was shared with
non-US covens, if needed.
“What else can you tell us about them?” Alton replied, looking at Astrid.
She swiped across the tablet screen, her brow furrowed as she skimmed
the information. “They weren’t in the Houston Coven for long. They were
kicked out for antisocial behavior. They’d been warned repeatedly. They
were both transferred to the Phoenix Coven, but they just caused more
trouble there, and some humans got hurt in the process. Someone in the
Phoenix Coven took pity on them, from what I can see, because they had
them moved to the Albuquerque Coven, instead of penalizing them. But they
were just as bad there. They kept stirring up trouble between the magicals,
mostly, pitting them against one another.”
“That doesn’t speak in their favor,” Alton muttered, crossing his arms.
“I’ll reach out to Phoenix and Albuquerque for more records, then.”
“It doesn’t end well,” Astrid replied. “They were kicked out of
Albuquerque, too, but they were separated. Emmett was supposed to go to
Miami, and Emily was transferred to Seattle.”
“Opposite sides of the country,” I said. “They probably figured they
wouldn’t cause as much trouble if they were kept apart.”
“And they didn’t want to jail them, either,” Alton concluded. “I suppose
there were only misdemeanors.”
“Humans getting hurt is a misdemeanor?” I asked, clearly skeptical.
Alton nodded. “They mostly got only scratches. We consider it a
misdemeanor if there’s no proof of intent to harm humans. They were most
likely accidental collateral damage, and I presume their memories were
wiped.”
“There was a lot of circumstantial evidence, too,” Astrid explained. “As
per coven regulations, they were entitled to a defense attorney, and the ones
they had in each situation were well paid and very good at their jobs. In some
cases, they made it out to be the other magicals’ fault, portraying the Ryders
as the real victims, being bullied and whatnot.”
That, to me, smelled extremely fishy. “Hold on. Foster system magicals
got their hands on good legal defense? That costs money. Right?”
Alton nodded. “Yes. It’s one of the best-paid jobs in our world, actually.
Our legal system is similar to that of the humans, and we litigate pretty much
everything on the criminal spectrum. I think the covens will have all the court
transcripts for each case. I’ll check with them, maybe find out who their
solicitors were.”
“Either way, they never made it to Miami or Seattle,” Astrid said. “They
vanished. Fell off the radar completely. They just… slipped through the
cracks, I think. Look, these are their most recent photos,” she added, showing
us the tablet screen.
I committed their faces to memory. They were attractive and young, in
their mid-twenties at the time. The similarities were there—the black hair and
brown, almond-shaped eyes, oval faces and slim noses. Emily had the long
hair, though, while Emmett’s was short. It didn’t make sense to me, since
Linda had given us a different description.
There was mischief twinkling in their eyes, but nothing that screamed
“sociopath” or “criminal.” They smiled at the camera, as if they knew what
was going to happen next. As if they knew they were never going to make it
to Seattle or Miami.
“The Travis couple described them as in their early twenties, though,”
Tatyana said. “They’re in their late twenties, according to their files.”
“They probably still look very young for their age. It’s not uncommon,”
Alton replied.
“Oh, yeah, with a good skin routine and proper moisturizer, you can cheat
time for a few decades,” Astrid said.
My heart was filled with affection—all bright and warm and fuzzy. It
took me a few seconds to identify it as Alton’s, as he fondly watched Astrid
swipe through her files. She’d been with the coven for three years now,
almost the same as Alton. Bonds were bound to happen, and I, like the others
on my Rag Team, didn’t know much about Alton’s personal life, other than
the fact that he was married to Isabel Monroe—whom I’d recently found out
about. She was a magical, too, though she didn’t do much work for them. She
was on the Fleet Science Center’s board of directors and collaborated with
some local charities. I also knew that she and Alton didn’t have kids. Maybe
we were the kids.
“I’ll refine my system search with this new info and the images as
parameters,” Astrid added. “I’ll check every CCTV and social media post
from the San Diego area. They’re bound to pop up somewhere, at some point.
Smartie’s facial recognition software is sharp.”
“In the meantime, we’ve got a little bit of work cut out for us,” Alton
said, glancing at Dylan and Damian again. “I know this curse. It’s called the
Curse of the Magical Beast. It brings out the most feral side of us, witches
and warlocks in particular. It works on humans, too, but, as you can see,
Damian is already worn out. Dylan, on the other hand…”
As if knowing we were talking about him, Dylan growled and rammed
into the glass again. He was simply unrecognizable, and it tore Tatyana apart.
“How do we fix him?” she asked.
“There’s a cure,” Alton replied. “This is rare and ancient magic. I actually
know the curse; it’s written in one of the Grimoires in our coven. I’ll need to
check the Grimoires in the Forbidden Section for the cure. But I know it’ll
need to be administered orally. One of us needs to go in there and do it.”
Tobe nodded. “I’ve had my share of monster wrestling. I can take him.”
Looking at Dylan, I couldn’t help but wonder what had driven a kid like
Kenneth to go dark-side like that, and how the Ryder twins had gotten their
hands on such powerful spell work. This was ancient, heavy-duty, evil stuff,
and most, if not all of it, was kept under magical lock and key in the covens.
How easy would it be for someone to just walk into one of the Forbidden
Sections and snatch such hexes?
They must’ve had inside help.
 ELEVEN

Tatyana

ver since Dylan came to the San Diego Coven, I’d had a bit of a soft spot
E for him. He was so… different from the others. He didn’t look like he
belonged here, with his short brown hair, cleft chin, and varsity jacket. He
was the typical jock, lover of sports and weekends at the beach. His warm
brown eyes spoke of summer barbecues and athletic scholarships at some Ivy
League school, not of Chaos and magic and covens.
He always seemed out of his element, too. He didn’t socialize much, and
he was the first to rush out at the end of the week to see his mom and hang
out with his college buddies. The coven, to him, was more like a job. He
spent most of the afternoons and nights here, with magical training and
whatever missions he was assigned to. The mornings were always for
college. He valued his academic education, that much was obvious, and was
still regretting his decision to stay here, instead of going to Yale. He’d had a
full ride for that, but the local coven was still catching some serious heat for
bad magical behavior, and Dylan had yet to fully control his abilities.
Most of his Chaos energy worked to amplify his physical strength and
speed, which was why he was so good at sports. His Water and Telekinesis
abilities came second and third, and he was still learning to develop and
master them.
I liked him as a person because I knew that, deep down, despite the frat
boy allure, Dylan was sweet, caring, and sensitive. Our little Rag Team was
growing on him, and he’d started spending more time with us, dedicating
some of his weekends to additional coven work, just so we’d all be together.
He was loyal and noble by nature. His adoptive parents had raised him to be a
fine young man.
But none of that mattered at this point. The Dylan I knew was gone, and
we needed to get him back. Most importantly, I felt guilty. This had
happened under my watch. I should’ve known that Kenneth was trouble. I
should’ve followed my gut and neutralized the kid before he even came into
the kitchen, protocols be damned.
I didn’t, though. I thought I could handle it. I didn’t think there was all
that darkness and toxic rot beneath the preppy boy façade that Kenneth had
been wearing. My mistake. And Dylan was paying the price. I had to fix this.
When Alton came back with the cure from one of the Grimoires, Tobe
and Wade immediately sprang into action and helped him gather all the
ingredients in a copper bowl with ancient Chinese markings etched into the
lip.
“Xiao Fei, former director of the Beijing Coven, came up with a cure
back in the nineteenth century,” Alton explained as he laid out all the
ingredients on a piece of cloth on the floor, kneeling before them and the
bowl. “Before that, people afflicted by this particular hex were locked up for
life. In some cases, they had to be killed. You see, the hex doesn’t stop at
what you see now.”
Dylan had tremendous amounts of energy left in him, and he continued to
wrestle against his restraints and roar furiously with each failure to free
himself.
“Are you telling me it’ll get worse?” I asked, and couldn’t stop myself
from giving Wade, Santana, Harley, Raffe, and Astrid a concerned frown.
Part of me was trying to reach out to them for emotional support. I was
genuinely overwhelmed, though it wasn’t in my nature to ask for help.
Out of them all, Harley was the first to give me a warm smile. She could
feel me. She knew exactly what I was going through, and, at that moment, I
couldn’t describe how nice it was to know that she was around.
“Much worse, I’m afraid,” Alton replied. He then proceeded to measure
and add the spell ingredients into the copper bowl, one by one. Fig leaves,
twigs of Oliver Plum’s Yew, angelica blossoms and cinnamon sticks,
powdered green jade and salt from the Dead Sea, one ounce of Paris Green
elixir—not the insecticide, but a magical substance made from extremely rare
crystals—and a gallon of sweet water from TuoTuo, Yangtze’s headstream.
Sloane Bellmore and Marianne Gracelyn had an impressive reserve of spell
ingredients in their repositories. “His body will become insufficient for his
rage. Unless he is permanently tied down, he’ll start hurting himself. All he
knows now is to kill everything that moves. To wreck. To destroy.”
Tobe stood by Dylan’s box, with his feathered arms crossed, watching as
he kept banging his shoulders into the glass. “Yes. I can see that.”
Something snapped. Dylan’s arms came out, finally free of their
restraints. I held my breath, realizing he’d just managed to break through
cable ties, industrial tape, and ropes. He punched and clawed at the box, until
his legs were loose, too. His strength had finally overcome his physical
limitations.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, making myself available to the
spirit world. As a Kolduny, I could turn my spiritual ability on and off—
otherwise I would’ve spent my entire life in extremely crowded places, even
when I should’ve been alone. The coven was filled with ghosts, so there were
plenty of people for me to talk to.
The darkness before me was gradually replaced by movement, wisps of
bluish light, moving around us. All of them were spirits, lonely wanderers
who couldn’t let go after they’d died in the coven. Sometimes, when I didn’t
want anyone else to know and hear what I was doing, I reached out to the
spirits without using my body. My mind just opened up and they picked up
on my brainwaves. They could read my thoughts, if I let them.
It took just a few seconds out there, in the real world, but in the veil,
where I’d just entered, time flowed differently.
“I need help!” I called out to the spirits walking around me. “I need your
strength!”
Of all the wisps that seemed to be ignoring me, one stopped. I’d gotten its
attention. That was usually the first step, asking for help and getting one of
the dead to answer. The spirit moved toward me and gradually regained its
humanoid shape.
It was a man in his late twenties, with rich, curly black hair and wild
green eyes. He’d broken a few hearts in his day, for sure. He wore jeans and a
hockey jersey, stained with blood—most likely his. He’d died a violent death,
yet his expression was one of curiosity, even slight amusement, as he stopped
a couple of feet away from me. He was translucent, just like Will, the boy
ghost I’d met back at the Travis house, but he seemed slightly more
consistent. As if his spirit was more… condensed.
“I’m a Kolduny,” I said to him.
“I know you, Tatyana,” he replied.
That made me shiver, but, then again, it shouldn’t have come as a
surprise. I’d been here for a few months now, and I’d called out to the spirits
before.
“You do, huh?” I murmured.
“You’re the only spirit-talker in this place. Among the living, anyway,”
the ghost said. “You’re quite a celebrity around here.”
“And who are you?” I asked.
He raised his chin with great pride. “I’m Oberon Marx,” he declared.
“Star athlete of the San Diego Coven!”
I was tempted to roll my eyes at him, but, instead, I gave him a polite
smile. “I’ve heard about you,” I replied. “You were a promising sportsman,
right?”
He nodded enthusiastically. “Football, hockey, baseball, wrestling,
swimming, mixed martial arts, and fencing. There wasn’t anything I didn’t
excel at. Glad to hear I’ve left a legacy.”
“You most certainly have,” I said, remembering an article I’d read about
him in one of the coven’s updated history books.
“You called for help. I’m here. What do you need?” he asked.
Even through the darkness, we could both see the silhouettes of the
material world around us. I pointed at Dylan’s glass box. “He’s been hexed,”
I said. “I need your strength to make him swallow the cure before he dies.”
Oberon grinned, enthusiasm glimmering in his eyes. “Well, I made the
right call to stop then, didn’t I? That guy’s a Herculean, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Yes, he is,” I replied.
“Herculean” was the title given to magicals with enhanced strength and
speed, the “athletes” of Chaos, whose magical energy fueled their physical
features. They were infinitely stronger, faster, more flexible, and more
resilient than most humans. In many cases, they could really stand out if they
wanted to. They were, essentially, superhumans. They weren’t exactly rare,
but their numbers weren’t high, either. On average, there were between fifty
and seventy per coven, with varying degrees of athletic prowess.
 According to the lore, Hercules himself had been real, a hero of ancient
Greece and a magical who… stood out, as well. They’d made up legends
about him, so the title sort of stuck.
“You’re in luck, Tatyana,” Oberon said. “I’m a Herculean, too. One of
the best in my generation, in fact!”
That made all the sense in the world, given his athletic career and fame
among the magicals. He’d died sometime about twenty years ago, but the
circumstances of his death were unknown to me. I couldn’t remember much,
but I could always look up articles about him in the archives. Either way, the
day he passed away was a sad day for all the covens. That much I
remembered.
“Tobe wants to go in there and give him the antidote, but it’s my fault
Dylan is in this state to begin with. I need to fix this,” I murmured.
“Don’t be like that. You didn’t hex him.” Oberon chuckled, then stilled
and turned serious all of a sudden. “Or did you?”
“No, it was someone else. But I wasn’t fast enough. I should’ve done
more to stop it.”
“Okay, if we’re gonna do this, I need you to let go of that guilt. It ruins
my vibe,” Oberon groaned, rolling his eyes. “I’ll help you. Tobe may be
strong and whatnot, but he’s underestimating us Herculeans. I dropped him
on his ass more than once during my living days. I had a three-month training
season in New York, at one point. He was one of my favorite sparring
partners.”
Back then, the Bestiary had been the New York Coven’s responsibility.
The timeline matched.
“You know how a Kolduny functions, right?” I asked, mentally preparing
myself for the next step. He nodded. “I will let you in, and I’ll lend you my
body, but my mind is mine. You do as I say, okay?”
“Relax, Tatyana. You’re not the first Kolduny I’ve ridden,” Oberon said,
grinning. That made me wonder who else he’d possessed among my kind, but
there was no time for background checks. I had to help Dylan, and, as per
Oberon’s statement, Tobe wasn’t enough to subdue him. “Open wide…”
That had come out wrong, and he knew it. “Ugh. Dude.”
“Sorry. You know what I mean,” Oberon replied, stifling a laugh.
I breathed deeply and opened my very being for occupation. Oberon
stepped forward and into me, temporarily fusing with my flesh and bones. I
felt cold, thousands of tiny electrical currents zapping through me at
lightspeed. Oberon had taken over my body, but I’d retained my
consciousness. It was rare for a Kolduny of my caliber to be overrun by a
ghost. When it did happen, however, Santana and Dylan were always there to
pull me back, so I could eject the wily spirit.
I opened my eyes, returning to reality, to the natural flow of time, just as
Alton finished preparing the hex cure. It had turned into a thick, dark green
liquid, which he poured into a glass bottle. Tobe reached out to get it, but I
stepped in and snatched it from Alton’s hand.
That took him by surprise. “Tatyana, what are you doing?”
“I’ve got this,” I said, energized as though I’d just swallowed the sun.
It didn’t take long for him and Tobe to figure it out. “You let a spirit in,”
Alton replied.
I nodded. “Dylan is a Herculean, and, no offense, Tobe, but you don’t
have the chops for him no matter how many monsters you’ve tackled before.”
“Now, that’s not exactly—” Tobe tried to object, but I cut him off.
“Oberon Marx,” I said.
That was enough to make him back down. “You have Oberon Marx in
there?”
“Who’s that?” Harley asked.
“Oh. Big-time Herculean, star athlete of SDC about twenty years ago.
Died a gruesome death in the late nineties, though the circumstances were
unclear, from what I remember,” Alton briefly explained. Judging by the look
on his face, he was quite impressed.
“You’re a fan of his?” I chuckled. I’d felt Oberon wanting to ask that
question, and I could feel the pride swelling in my chest. The guy had lived to
be adored.
“Most valuable player of the twentieth century, basically,” Alton replied.
“Well, he could’ve been. His untimely departure deprived us of a legend,
but… I’m glad to see he’s helping you.”
I gave him a weak smile and looked at Tobe. “Don’t get me wrong, I have
all the faith in you, Tobe, but I feel responsible, and I can do this,” I said.
Tobe nodded and got ready to open Dylan’s box. Dylan had gone quiet,
eyeing me like a very hungry wolf. “You have to move fast, Tatyana. And
don’t let him bite you,” Tobe instructed. “The hex is transferable.”
“Now he tells me,” I grumbled, holding the bottle tight in one hand as I
stepped in front of the box. “I’m ready. Let me in.”
“Be careful, Taty!” Santana called behind me.
I knew they were all worried, but this was part of the gig. Chaos and
magic were never rainbows and sprinkles. There was darkness and pain,
danger and poison. Sure, there was wonder and healing, the accomplishment
of extraordinary feats and a fusion with nature otherwise impossible to
achieve. But most of the time, there were risks of all kinds to be factored into
the life of a magical.
This was one of them.
Tobe opened the box, and I slipped inside at lightning speed. He locked
me in there as Dylan stepped back. He was momentarily confused.
“Dylan, I know you’re in there,” I whispered.
He lunged at me, snarling like a vicious animal. I let Oberon take over my
limbs. We tackled Dylan. He pushed me against one of the glass walls, but
my legs jerked upward and I kneed him in the gut. He groaned from the pain
but didn’t let that stop him.
Oberon was phenomenally strong. I’d carried a tied-up Dylan into the
coven mostly due to adrenaline, but this… this was something else entirely. I
felt as though I were made of rock and steel. He punched me several times,
but I hit back with my left fist, while my right hand was busy protecting the
bottle holding the cure.
“Dylan, listen to me!” I panted. “I know you’re in there! I need you to
focus! I need you to stop this and drink the cure!”
He didn’t seem to care. He was too busy trying to take a bite out of me.
Oberon’s reflexes were mine now, though, so Dylan didn’t get that chance. I
kicked him, then hurled him over my shoulder. He hit his head against the
glass, temporarily dazed.
I popped the cap off the bottle and gripped Dylan by the throat.
“You’re the only one I’ve ever felt a connection to, Dylan!” I said, my
voice uneven and my eyes stinging from the tears threatening to come out.
“Never mind that we’re all worried about you. I’m the one in here, now,
asking you… Dylan, please! Help me out here!”
I tightened my grip on his throat, enough to constrict his windpipe. He
was struggling to breathe.
“I know you’re different from other magicals,” I added. “I know you can
beat this. Let me cure this hex you’re under, because this isn’t you, Dylan. I
want my Dylan back! We all do!”
He stilled all of a sudden, breathing heavily, his hands still clutching my
forearm in an attempt to push me back. I couldn’t help but thank the stars for
Oberon in that moment.
He blinked. I’d managed to strike a chord in there, beneath the madness.
For one moment, despite the yellow eyes, I felt as though I was looking at the
real Dylan. My Dylan. I raised the cure bottle for him to see it.
“This will make you feel better,” I breathed. “Let me make you feel
better.”
He didn’t say anything, but he exhaled sharply. His muscles were
twitching angrily. Every fiber in his body was probably telling him to attack,
but he held back. This was my chance. I put the bottle’s lip against his. He
slowly opened his mouth, and I tilted the bottle but didn’t ease my grip on
him. I couldn’t risk it.
He drank it all and snarled at me again.
Then, he froze, staring at me with wide eyes. The yellow faded, and the
warm caramel-brown I’d grown to be so fond of came back in gentle ripples.
The red veins withdrew.
“Dylan?” I croaked.
He blinked again, then dropped to his knees and retched all over my
shoes. My stomach churned, mostly at the sight of what was pouring out of
Dylan—it was a thick, black substance, riddled with tiny worms, and
certainly not the liquid cure I’d just given him.
Tobe opened the box again and helped me out, while Wade and Raffe
carried Dylan. He’d passed out, but he looked a lot better than the savage
fiend I’d struggled with earlier.
“It’s done,” Alton said. “Good job, Tatyana.”
I gave him a faint nod, then let out a long sigh.
“Thanks, Oberon,” I whispered.
“You’re welcome, darling,” he replied, his voice echoing in my head.
“Time to let go,” I reminded him.
I heard him groan, and sighed again when I felt his energy drain out of
me. I experienced relief, thankful that I didn’t have much trouble with letting
a spirit go. I was getting better at commanding the ghosts, from what I could
tell.
My arms and legs felt weak all of a sudden, and I was aching all over. All
the strength I’d gotten from Oberon was gone. In its wake was a tired, jelly-
like Tatyana. I was just grateful I didn’t pass out, as I’d done in the past after
a possession. I had learned a few breathing tricks, and perhaps I was making
progress.
Dylan was on the floor, lying on his back while Wade checked his vitals.
“He’s okay,” he said. “Quite stable, but we need to take him to the
infirmary.”
“Krieger should take a look, for sure,” Alton replied. “Dylan will be out
for a couple of days, though. And so will Damian,” he added, handing a
second cure bottle to Tobe. “You can handle an angry human, right?”
Tobe scoffed. “Now you’re just insulting me.”
Alton chuckled. Santana put an arm around my shoulders as we watched
Tobe go into Damian’s glass box and force him to take the cure. A beastly
hexed human was much easier to handle than a Herculean, that much was
obvious. The spell did give Damian ridiculous strength, but it wasn’t above
Tobe’s level.
Wade and Raffe carried Dylan to the infirmary. I quietly watched them
go, nagged by a dull pain in my chest.
I made it my mission to get my hands on Kenneth Willow. That little brat
was in for a serious butt-kicking after what he’d done. Right after the Ryder
twins. I had a bigger bone to pick with those two.
 TWELVE

Harley

fter Dylan was taken to the infirmary, Alton called in a cleanup crew to
A take care of Damian. He was given medical attention, then had his
memory wiped—just like they’d done with Maria, his wife. The Hellers
didn’t need to remember this nightmare.
Wade, Santana, Tatyana, Raffe, Astrid, and I followed Alton into his
office, where we briefed him on our progress so far. Each of our teams had
visited two of the twelve families on the list he’d given us, before the
Kenneth Willow incident.
“I know we still have more to run through, but the attack and Dylan’s
condition took precedence,” Wade concluded his reporting.
I was restless, not just because of my own emotions, but also because of
everyone else’s. They were all worried and fearful, mentally bracing
themselves for another potential disaster. We were still reeling from what had
happened with Finch and Katherine Shipton, after all, and the rumors of her
emergence were still buzzing in the background of everything we said and
did.
“No, that was a good call,” Alton replied. “However, we’ll need to check
on the other families on our list as soon as possible. I need you all on this,
first thing in the morning. Until then, however, I’ll send the Ryders’ photos
out to the security team and have them keep an eye on each of the remaining
houses.”
 “Yeah, that’ll work until we get there and debrief the families,” Wade
agreed.
“I’ll prepare more charms in the meantime,” Santana said. “I used up
most of my supply for every room of the two houses we checked. I didn’t
think we’d need so many.”
A few seconds passed in silence. I felt as though there was a big elephant
in the room with my name on it. After all, I’d broken protocol with the
Cranstons, and Alton had yet to say anything to me directly about it. That
wasn’t in his nature.
“About the Cranstons—” I tried to speak, but Alton was quick to cut me
off.
“I know why you did what you did,” he said. “You had good intentions. I
get that. But it was against coven regulations. However, lucky for you, it
proved to be a more viable strategy in the long run.”
“What, using the kids as bait?” I snapped.
Alton raised an eyebrow. “I’m confused, Harley. I thought you wanted
them to stay with their parents, magical or otherwise.”
“Yeah, but… now we’re using them as literal bait for the Ryders,” I
murmured.
“And? Do you think I’m happy with that decision?” Alton replied. “Far
from it. I’m quite annoyed, actually. But you need to learn a lesson here, and
we have no better alternative to try and capture two clearly hostile and
dangerous rogue magicals. I would’ve loved to have the children back here,
under our protection, but I’ve decided your way was… well, not better, but
more productive.”
I crossed my arms, not liking the guilt that was gnawing at my stomach.
Deep down, I knew Alton was right. I’d had a few hours to think about my
intervention. It was like picking the lesser of two evils, and I’d gone with the
worst, thinking I was doing the right thing.
“So, you’re doing this to teach me a lesson? You’re leaving these young
magicals out there for the Ryders to grab or influence or whatever, just to
show me I’m wrong?” I asked, even more annoyed. I knew the answers. I just
didn’t like what all this had escalated to.
Alton shook his head. “No. I’m doing this because the Ryders became
dangerous in a rather short timeframe. If it had been just the Cranstons, I
would’ve been more adamant about bringing little Micah in. But it’s not just
them anymore. The fact that I get to teach you a lesson about why coven
rules are so important is just an upside to this entire debacle.”
That irritated me, but I couldn’t do much to change it. I could focus on
protecting the kids, instead, and finding ways to stop and capture the Ryder
twins.
“Based on what we’ve seen so far, the Ryders have an agenda,” I said,
changing the subject. “And different approaches, depending on the magicals’
ages and whether their parents are magicals. For example, Micah is only five,
and his parents are human, so the Ryders left their card but didn’t interact
with any of them. Mina is six, but her parents are magical. The Ryders talked
to them, pretending to be from our coven.”
“And the Ledermeyers were human, while their kid, Samson, is a three-
year-old magical,” Tatyana said. “They had no recollection of the Ryders,
either. Whereas with Kenneth Willow and the Hellers, it was clearly
different.”
“That’s right. Kenneth is a young adult, and his foster parents are
human,” Alton replied. “They were aware that he was different, but they
didn’t send him back. They stuck by him. And when the Ryders came in, they
only spoke to Kenneth, leaving the humans out of the conversation. From
what I can tell, Kenneth was the first they successfully coerced to their side.”
“They could’ve taken the kids, too, but they didn’t.” Wade sighed,
scratching the back of his head. He was confused, and for good reason.
“They tried to get Mina’s parents to send her to the coven,” I said. “I
mean, that’s probably why they posed as coven members and why they left
their card behind. Maybe the Ryders didn’t want to test the parents’ magical
abilities. Maybe it was easier to just get Mina out of her parents’ reach for
them to kidnap her. Wouldn’t it then be safe to assume that, had the Travises
agreed, the Ryders would’ve intercepted and snatched her?”
Alton shrugged. “I’m not sure. It could be. A magical incident involving
adults could’ve drawn too much of our attention, too soon. Without knowing
how powerful the parents were, the Ryders could be trying to play it safe. But
we don’t have enough information. Nor do we know their intentions, or who
they’re working with, if they’re working with anyone.”
“Do you think Katherine Shipton is involved?” Tatyana asked.
My blood ran cold just from hearing her name. “If she is, we’re in for a
doozy,” I muttered.
 “The most important thing for us to do right now is to speak to the other
families on that list,” Wade replied. “Once we’re there, we’ll most likely find
out more about what the Ryders have been doing or saying. We also need to
make sure we’re ready if the Ryders visit any of them again. I’m willing to
bet they’ve already been to see the families we’ll be seeing tomorrow.”
“Did you find out anything from your mom back in Houston?” I asked.
Wade shook his head. “She’s had her assistants dig through the files, but
there’s nothing. Either they were never recorded, or their files were wiped on
purpose.”
“The cards bug me, though.” Santana sighed, pinching the bridge of her
nose. “Why would they leave them with families they didn’t even speak to?
Do you really think they did it for us, Alton? Because that’s the theory we
were floating earlier.”
We all looked at Alton, who seemed equally befuddled.
“That would mean they knew you were coming,” he said. “And that
makes me feel uneasy, because I gathered the intel from different magical
reports from the field. Either the Ryders are following our coven operatives
around, or we have a spy in our ranks.”
“So, if they really are sending us a message, what is the message? That
they’re spying on us? That they’re looking to drive magicals away from the
coven? Both?” I asked.
“I think you’ll have a clearer picture tomorrow, if there’s a repeat of
today’s pattern,” Alton replied. “What’s crucial here is that you are all
prepared. Kenneth Willow might not be the only kid they’ve subverted. Be
on your guard at all times.”
That made sense. From what I remembered reading in the file, there were
at least two other potential teenage magicals that the Ryders might’ve gotten
to. The last thing we wanted was a repeat of the Dylan debacle. The poor guy
was looking at days in the infirmary under Krieger’s care.
I worried about little Micah now. I’d been so eager to make sure he
stayed with his family, only to later realize that maybe that wasn’t such a
good idea. It haunted me, but I had to keep pushing.
Santana gave me a gentle shoulder squeeze, prompting me to look at her.
I found her smiling at me. “Don’t worry, Harley, the charms are on point,”
she said, as if having read my mind. “We’ll know the moment there’s a
threat.”
 “Thank you,” I mumbled.
Looking back, I didn’t miss the old days. I liked having people like
Santana, Raffe, Tatyana, Astrid, Dylan, and even Wade around. They were
reliable and protected one another. There was a bond among us that was hard
to describe, and possibly just as hard to break, now.
They weren’t just fellow magicals. They were my friends.
And I knew that I would need them by my side for what came next.
Whether it was confirmed or not, it didn’t matter to me—this whole thing
reeked of Katherine Shipton. My instincts rarely failed me.
 THIRTEEN

Harley

inner was rather gloomy. We didn’t talk much, each of us worried about
D Dylan, the Ryder twins, and the fact that Kenneth Willow was at large.
The coven had put out its equivalent of an APB on Kenneth and the twins,
notifying all magicals in the California area of their presence. Alton was
liaising with the California Mage Council on this as well. We were bound to
get an earful from Leonidas Levi. He didn’t like our coven much, mostly
because of how we’d emerged from the gargoyle incident.
After dinner, I went back to my room to read my parents’ file. Alton had
been kind enough to prepare it for me, and it was time for me to delve a little
deeper into my family history.
From what the timeline suggested, my parents got together shortly after
Dad hooked up with Katherine Shipton. That mustn’t have sat well with her,
but love had this nasty way about it. Hester and Hiram Merlin tied the knot
one year after they became an item, while Katherine stayed mostly out of the
public eye.
Because of the legacy of both the Merlin and Shipton names in the
magical community, my parents’ wedding was a big deal, with coverage in
all the coven newspapers across the States. Heck, I even found a clipping
from the British papers mentioning their union. There were, of course, gossip
columns dedicated to rumors about Katherine being quite upset about their
relationship, but no one suspected that, years later, it would all go sideways
so badly.
Based on what I’d learned from Finch, he’d already been born when my
parents married. Katherine had sent him off to be raised by Agnes Anker,
who gave him her last name. Apparently, there was still some stigma
regarding magical children out of wedlock at the time.
My parents made an amazing magical team, it seemed. Both were
powerful Telekinetics. My mom was an Empath, like me. My dad was a full
Elemental. I’d gotten the best of both worlds, much like salted caramel. The
Merlins were the pride and joy of the New York Coven, and my dad became
the youngest magical to become a director. He was only twenty-five at the
time.
“Wow,” I murmured as I flipped through the file pages. “So, Alton isn’t
the youngest, per se. My dad was. Way to go, Merlin…”
During that time, my parents began working on a Grimoire together. That
was extremely rare, from what I’d learned during Lasher Ickes’s Magic
History classes. The Grimoire was a book of spells, which not all magicals
endeavored to create. It acted as a part journal, part instruction manual for
new or modified spells. It was loaded with the magical’s memories and
energies. Alton had appended a note regarding the Grimoire.
A Grimoire is the most honest manifestation of a magical’s connection to
Chaos. Because we, as witches and warlocks, adhere to either Light or
Darkness, so will the Grimoire be influenced by our Chaotic inclination. It is
a book that can influence and even change minds, and it’s a wonderful tool to
have if one is on the side of Light. Where Darkness is involved, however, the
Grimoire can become more like poison, rather than a cure, killing its reader
slowly, but surely.
The fascinating part about Hester and Hiram’s Grimoire was that it
involved both Light and Darkness. After all, Hiram was Light, and Hester, as
wonderful and kind and noble as she was, belonged to the Darkness.
Therefore, their Grimoire attained an incredible and never-before-seen
balance of both.
I’d learned from Preceptor Ickes and Alton a few things about the
Children of Chaos and how we were connected to them. I, for one,
understood that I was directly connected to Gaia, as an Elemental. Light and
Darkness, however, had a different role to play in a magical’s life, from what
I remembered. Those with Darkness were drawn to the danger and death side
of Chaos (though not necessarily to inflict it, per se). Light was more attuned
to nurturing and growth. Gaia was, in her way, connected to Light, for
example, which was why an Elemental was, most of the time, drawn to Light.
I had to do a little more digging as to what Light and Darkness did to our
magic, though. The details were rather fuzzy in my mind.
Moving on to complete the file, I found myself saddened by its
conclusion. I read out loud this time, just to fill the silence that had begun
weighing heavily on my shoulders.
“The Grimoire was never completed. With approximately 75 percent of
its pages filled with wondrous new charms, spells, hexes and cures, thoughts,
impressions and memories, it would be one of the greatest literary and
technical creations of contemporary magic… had it been finished. An
incomplete Grimoire will not have the same power and influence as a full
one. The spells can still be used, but they wouldn’t be 100 percent efficient.
Once a spell is recorded into a Grimoire, Chaos somehow makes it official
and universally applicable. It’s a process we’ve never fully understood, but
rather went with…”
Now, I was officially curious. Extremely curious.
The Grimoire was never completed because of what happened to my
father—he went berserk, murdering several magicals and… my mom. Shortly
before that, according to Finch, my dad had gone back to Katherine Shipton.
And it was after they got together that he went all mass-murdery, and
everything changed.
The one thing that everyone got wrong was me. They’d thought I was still
in my mother’s womb when she died, and they weren’t able to do an autopsy
because my mother had been turned into ashes.
Tears streamed down my cheeks, but I kept reading. I couldn’t stop now.
I once again raised my voice, aggravated by the silence around me.
“Hiram Merlin disappeared for three years after killing Hester. The entire
magical community mourned. The covens were in an uproar. A manhunt
followed, but Hiram eluded them each time. Meanwhile, Katherine Shipton
had gone on her own killing spree, killing dozens of high society magicals for
reasons still unknown. The motives behind all the murders committed by
both Hiram and Katherine were never discovered, nor could we verify that
they were still together during those three years. Once Hiram surrendered, he
claimed he was innocent. His alibis, however, didn’t support his statement.
The evidence was against him. The judicial authorities were never able to
establish any other connection between Katherine and Hiram either, beyond
their affair. It was considered an amorous triangle gone horribly wrong and
treated as such. Hiram was tried and… executed…”
My voice faded.
I exhaled, put the file on my bed, and got up. I’d had enough of that
epilogue. I knew what happened afterward, more or less. There were too
many gaps in this known timeline for me to ignore them, though. Plus, the
few memories I’d recovered of my father, along with the pre-murder stories
about him and Mom, spoke in his favor. I had a hard time imagining him as
an enraged or cold-blooded killer.
The one thing I needed to know more about, in the meantime, was the
Grimoire.
Since it was also used as a journal to record important moments in a
magical’s life, I was certain I’d learn more about my parents, if I could get
my hands on it. It was supposedly back in New York, but I knew where I
could find more information about it. As part of a lead investigative team,
and especially after my contributions to Finch’s apprehension, I had
unrestricted access to the most sensitive parts of the coven, including the
Forbidden Section and the Secret Archives.
I also wanted to get a better look at a Grimoire, just so I could understand
what it looked and felt like. It had been bugging me since I’d first laid eyes
on them. The little devil on my shoulder insisted that I should do it, and I
didn’t even think to object.
It was past midnight when I left my room and quietly made my way to the
Forbidden Section. The hallways were mostly dark and quiet. Everyone was
probably already asleep—like I should’ve been, since I had to get up early to
continue the family visits.
“Tribus. Quattuor. Septem. Aperi Portium,” I whispered the customized
spell for this particular room. I touched the doorknob and heard the lock
click.
I slipped inside and, just as I was about to close the door behind me, a
foot came through, blocking it. It wore a black shoe. My first thought was
Wade for some reason, but as I pulled the door back and looked up, I found
myself surprised.
“Garrett,” I murmured.
 He stood in the doorway, wearing a sheepish smile. He had his usual
cream pants, crisp white shirt, and loose, dark red tie, his dark hair freshly
buzz-cut on the sides. His eyes were the color of a midnight sky in that light.
“Sorry, I just saw you in the hallway,” he replied. “I was curious why
you’d still be up at this hour.”
I felt like a kid caught with a poopy paper bag, ready to drop it on the
neighbor’s porch and set it on fire. My face burned. I still had my guard up,
especially around Garrett, even though I had full access to the place. I figured
the old habit of sneaking into forbidden places died hard.
“Um. I was just… researching,” I said.
Garrett raised an eyebrow. “In the Forbidden Section?”
“Yeah. I’m looking into Grimoires.”
“Why? I doubt Preceptor Ickes would let you study one up close,
unattended,” he replied.
Ugh. I’d forgotten how seasoned Garrett was in coven matters. We hadn’t
talked much since the Finch incident. We’d exchanged a few words in the
hallway now and then, but nothing that could be considered an actual,
meaningful conversation. He’d already apologized about his nasty words
regarding my Merlin origins, so there wasn’t really bad blood between us,
but, still, I’d been wary of attempting any form of friendship with him again.
My foster experiences had taught me to be on my guard at all times,
especially after someone did me wrong. I applied it in full in the coven, too.
This time, however, a thought crossed my mind: maybe Garrett could
help. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to be nicer to him.
I sighed. There was no point in lying to him. “I want to know what a
Grimoire looks and feels like,” I said. “And I want to find out where my
parents’ Grimoire is.”
He blinked several times, then nodded slowly.
“Well, I don’t think you should look at a Grimoire by yourself,” he
replied. “I’d be more than happy to show you one or two, for you to get an
idea. They can be quite… intense.”
“Okay. Thanks,” I whispered, and stepped aside.
Garrett entered and closed the door behind him. The Forbidden Section
was an enormous room with shelves covering the walls from top to bottom.
There were hundreds of boxes in all shapes and sizes, scrolls and notebooks,
along with an entire portion encased in charmed glass, where they kept the
Grimoires. They’d had to put a spell on them and treat them as Bestiary
creatures, given that they practically oozed energy and influenced magicals.
In the middle, there were reading tables with chairs and empty notebooks.
My favorite thing about the notebooks was that they were magically
rigged to prevent people from stealing spells from the Grimoires. Even if a
witch or a warlock had access to a Grimoire for research and, instead of
simply taking notes, they copied the entire spell or the chant required to cast
it, the text vanished as soon as they set foot outside the room.
The coven sure knew how to protect its assets, though there was always a
bit of wiggle room for failure. Case in point—Kenneth. He’d gotten that
curse somehow, and we didn’t know how the Ryders had gotten it.
“The Grimoires are high-level clearance only,” Garrett said, stopping in
front of the glass section. “You wouldn’t be able to get through this without
the proper spell. I doubt Alton would give you access before your Pledge.”
That seemed reasonable, making my impulsive visit to the Forbidden
Section sound downright ridiculous. “I didn’t know that.”
“That’s cool. I’m here and happy to help,” he replied, giving me a half-
smile before he placed his fingers on the glass and whispered a spell. Wisps
of light shot across the glass surface, lighting up the many symbols that were
normally hidden. He opened the glass door and took one of the leather-bound
journals out. “Let’s see what this one’s about,” he added.
“How are you allowed to open that?” I asked.
“Alton put me in charge of curating the Grimoires for the next couple of
months,” he explained. “The task is given in rotation to avoid any of us being
influenced in a negative way. Like I said, these babies can be pretty intense.”
He walked over to one of the tables, then placed the Grimoire on top. It
was a big and heavy-looking thing, with a solid black leather cover and a
multitude of strange etchings on its spine. I didn’t recognize any of the
symbols.
We sat down in front of it, and Garrett untied the leather strings holding
its cover and pages together. It looked rather old, with yellowed paper and a
multitude of scribbles on the edges. The first page drew my attention. The
writing was an attempt at elegant cursive, with curves and swirls, but sharp
and scratchy throughout. To me, that denoted a feminine nature with a dark,
rough side. Someone who tried to fall into a certain category, but could not
quite rid herself of the demons within.
 The second most interesting aspect was that it was written in French, and
I could understand every single word. Garrett noticed my confused frown.
“It’s written in French,” he said.
“I know,” I replied.
“Then what’s wrong? You look troubled.”
“I don’t speak French. I never learned it. Yet I understand every word.
How does that work?” I asked.
He chuckled. “It’s magic. Grimoires are written in different languages to
throw humans off, if they ever come across one. But a magical will always
understand the tongue of Chaos,” he explained. “It’s in our DNA, I suppose.”
The words on the first page sent shivers down my spine.
The Grimoire of Crimson Kite. Poison can be drunk slowly and feel
incredible.
“That is so dark,” I muttered, nodding at the text.
Garrett shrugged. “This is one of the forbidden ones. Technically
speaking, we’re not supposed to even look at it, but hell… You only live
once, right?”
“Do you know who Crimson Kite was? That has got to be an alias or a
pen name or something.”
“I don’t,” Garrett replied. “But I’m assuming it’s a woman, judging by
the handwriting.”
“Yeah, a slightly unstable woman,” I said. “Look at the erratic shake in
each word. It’s like she was struggling to write like that.”
“Mm-hm. Agreed,” Garrett mumbled. He narrowed his eyes and turned
several pages. “It’s at least a decade or two old. Never handled this particular
Grimoire myself.”
“So, how do you curate them?” I asked.
“Well, I make sure the pages are intact. I wipe the dust and any residue
off with special cleaning instruments and dry cloths. Where the ink begins to
fade, I apply a rejuvenation solution that brings it back. Then I spray every
page with a preservation serum. All brewed in-house by Preceptors Gracelyn
and Parks,” Garrett replied. “It’s tedious. I’ve done six of them so far, with
about a hundred left, but I won’t get to do them all. Someone else will pick
up where I leave off.”
I nodded, and craned my neck to get a better look at the text on one page.
It looked like a poem, with short lines and generous spacing in between, and
red, green, and black drawings on the edge—a demon, a dragon, a swirl of
strange-looking flowers, and several snakes, all displayed around the actual
text. The title sounded interesting.
“The Curse of the Dragon’s Kiss,” I breathed.
Garrett said something, but I missed it. The text seemed to vibrate and
jump out of the page. Every word made sense, and I could hear someone
whispering in my ear.
There, in the Darkness, where evil and poison live…
My blood ran cold. My skin prickled, as if I’d just been dunked in a vat of
ice water.
The Dragon sleeps…
Oh, Monster of Leviathan, Son of Chaos, Eater of Hearts…
I bid you, come hither…
I give you my heart, if you give me your Kiss—
“Harley!” Garrett’s alarmed voice cut through. The slam of a book
snapped me out of whatever the hell it was I’d just experienced.
I stared at him, the world around us suddenly back into focus. “What?” I
replied.
“What the hell just happened?” Garrett croaked, his eyes wide with fear.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, then rubbed my face. Needles
were jabbed into my eyes—or, at least, that was how I felt. I needed several
deep breaths to regain my full composure.
“We need to keep you away from this. You’re too susceptible,” he
declared, and tied the strings back around the Grimoire. That was the slam I’d
heard a few seconds earlier—Garrett closing the Grimoire. He put it back
behind the glass casing, before whispering the locking spell and returning to
the table.
The strange symbols lit up for a moment, then faded back into the glass.
“I don’t get it,” I said. “What happened? I was just reading that spell.”
“Harley, you weren’t reading anything. You were reciting. Your voice
changed, your eyes rolled white into your head, and the table started
shaking,” Garrett replied. “Don’t you remember any of that?”
I shook my head, shock clutching my heart. “What the…”
“Yeah, my thoughts exactly! I tried calling out your name a couple of
times. It took a few tries to snap you out of it. That Grimoire had quite an
influence on you.”
 I had no idea. “The letters were vibrating on the page. I heard whispers in
my head, but from what Wade told me, that’s pretty normal when looking at
an open Grimoire. I didn’t know I’d gone that deep down the rabbit hole.
Sorry…”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. Just be careful,” Garrett said, giving
me a sympathetic smile. “Also, your parents’ Grimoire won’t be here.”
“Oh, I know that.”
“You won’t find anything in the archives, either,” he added. “Trust me,
I’ve looked. Shortly after I heard you and Alton and I found out who your
parents were, I checked all our records. They’re keeping that Grimoire very
hush-hush, in the New York Coven’s Forbidden Section. They’ve removed
all other references to it from all the other covens. Everything you need to
know will be in New York.”
I was surprised by how helpful Garrett was. His demeanor had certainly
changed since the Finch incident, but this was still unexpected. It just didn’t
fit his otherwise abrasive, arrogant, and sarcastic nature.
“Thank you, Garrett,” I said. “That’s good to know.”
“Now, come on, let’s go before you hear another Grimoire call out to
you.” He chuckled and headed for the door. I was right behind him when he
stopped and turned around, cocking his head to the side. “By the way, you
have a very powerful connection with the Darkness, just so you know. I don’t
think anyone noticed—or told you, if they did.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ah. I see they haven’t taught you about that,” he replied, the corner of
his mouth twitching. “Kind of makes sense. Anyway, it’s not my place to
teach you that. You should ask Alton or Preceptor Ickes about Light and
Darkness.”
“Oh, yeah, I read… something about that, but I don’t know much. Scratch
that, I don’t know anything,” I replied.
He gently squeezed my shoulder. “It’s cool. You should bring it up with
Krieger, too, for your next Reading. You’re due for another one, right?” he
asked. I nodded. “Yeah, so check that out when you do it, then. But it’s
obvious from the way you reacted to Crimson Kite’s Grimoire. You’ve got a
strong link to Darkness.”
“Is that bad?”
He laughed. “No. Not necessarily. Granted, most magicals with Darkness
connections tend to be on the wrong side of magical laws, but there were and
still are enough exceptions to not make it a rule.”
Somehow, that didn’t make me feel much better. Nevertheless, Garrett
clearly wasn’t the guy to ask. He’d specifically told me to get informed via
Alton, Ickes, or Krieger. The one thing I knew for sure was that this whole
affiliation with Light or Darkness wasn’t exactly readily available
information. One had to ask the questions, in order to get the answers.
I was exhausted. My eyelids were practically drooping.
Garrett turned around and opened the door, motioning for me to go out
first. As soon as I set foot in the hallway, I felt as though I could breathe
again. The air inside the Forbidden Section seemed heavy, once I was out.
That wasn’t the strangest thing to have happened to me today, but it was
certainly near the top. Garrett was right. That Grimoire had had quite an
impact on me.
 FOURTEEN

Harley

hat are you two doing here?”

“W Wade’s voice ripped me from my inner thoughts with the grace of
a drunk rhinoceros.
Both Garrett and I froze in front of the Forbidden Section’s closed doors,
and slowly turned our heads to find Wade a couple of yards away, glowering
like a grumpy old caretaker. He hadn’t gone to bed either, still wearing his
pretend-Social-Services attire.
“Wade. Fancy running into you here,” Garrett said.
There was something abruptly different about him, in Wade’s presence.
He switched to a dark and on-edge version of himself. There was so much
tension between them, I could easily get blown up if I wasn’t careful.
“What were you two doing in the Forbidden Section?” Wade asked, his
tone clipped and his arms crossed.
“None of your business, Crowley. Don’t you have some boots to lick or
something?” Garrett shot back.
“Whoa. Chill. Both of you,” I snapped. “I was just checking out the
Grimoires, that’s all. I do have clearance, if you remember.”
“At this hour?” Wade retorted.
He was angry, and I couldn’t for the life of me understand why.
“What are you, my guardian?” I scoffed.
“You should be resting, Harley. We have a long day ahead of us
tomorrow,” Wade said, his voice lower.
“Then why are you lurking around the hallways at this time of night,
huh?” Garrett cut in. “It’s not your business what she does and who she hangs
out with when she’s off the clock. So butt out, Crowley.”
A muscle ticked in Wade’s jaw. “I don’t get why you’re hanging around
her like a little puppy. Or do you think any of us forgot what a jerk you were
when you found out her last name was Merlin?”
“In Garrett’s defense, he did apologize,” I said, and put my hands out to
stop Garrett from retorting with more hostility. “Listen, you two need to take
a deep breath. First of all, I don’t have to answer to anyone for my actions.
I’m a big girl, and I know the coven rules. Second, Wade, Garrett, there’s
some history between you. I get that. So, for the sake of a more peaceful
coven where I don’t have to worry about breaking up a fistfight every time
we meet, how about we all grab dinner somewhere nice, and just talk and
hash it out? Huh?”
Garrett’s eyebrows went up. Wade’s furrowed into a confused frown.
“I can act as the mediator. We’ll sit you both down, get you some nice
drinks and a spaghetti or something—somewhere public and human, so
neither of you is tempted to resort to magic in order to make some dumb,
macho point—and sort this out. What do you think?” I added.
They looked at each other, then at me, and I suddenly felt vulnerable.
There was something in Wade’s gaze and flow of emotions that had the
power to disarm me. In contrast, I couldn’t feel Garrett, but his expression
said everything: he was surprised and intrigued.
“I won’t say no to that, provided that Crowley here leaves his ego at the
door,” Garrett said.
Wade exhaled. “If you’re willing, then I’m willing.”
That sounded like incredible progress. Before patting myself on the back,
though, I had to make sure I had a commitment from them both.
“Okay. Good. We’re on to something here. Carluccio’s, eight p.m. on
Wednesday?” I asked, figuring that was enough time for me to do a little bit
of digging into both Garrett’s and Wade’s pasts. I had a feeling Alton could
help me fill in some of those blanks.
They both nodded.
“Fantastic!” I exclaimed, before giving Garrett a friendly nod. “I’ll see
you tomorrow, and thanks for the assistance tonight.”
 Garrett smiled, and I instantly felt my blood simmer. That wasn’t me.
That was Wade. “No problem. Don’t forget to talk to Krieger,” Garrett said.
“Will do,” I replied, then headed back to the living quarters.
I would’ve expected Garrett to come with Wade and me, but he stayed
behind and went back inside the Forbidden Section instead. The first minute
that followed was awkwardly quiet as Wade and I made our way down the
hallway.
“Since when are you friendly with Garrett?” he asked.
“Since we’re part of the same coven, and we should play nice?” I replied.
“Besides, if I decide to stay here, I figure it’s in my best interests for us all to
get along.”
My heart skipped a beat.
“You want to join the coven, then?” he murmured.
“I haven’t decided yet. But that doesn’t mean I can’t help fix a couple of
things while I’m here. This damaged relationship that you and Garrett have is
a fine example of what I could help make right, if you’re both interested.”
“Clearly, we are, since we agreed to dinner. I didn’t think he’d say yes,
though,” Wade muttered.
“Well, people can still surprise you, then.” I chuckled.
“What were you doing in the Forbidden Section, though?”
I thought about whether I should give Wade all the details, but I decided
I’d rather address my Grimoire experience with Krieger or Alton first. “I was
looking for some information about my parents’ Grimoire,” I explained. “But
Garrett said I wouldn’t find anything here.”
“Yeah, it’ll be in the New York Coven,” Wade replied.
I nodded and turned the corner, the living quarters area opening out
before us with its large dome and pink magnolias in the middle.
“Listen, I don’t trust Garrett,” he added.
That statement brought me to a halt. I turned to face him. “Why do you
say that?”
Concern gnawed at my stomach, and I wasn’t sure whether that was me
or Wade. I still had a long way to go with honing my Empathy readings.
“I’m not sure,” he replied. “I’m thinking that if Katherine Shipton really
is involved with the Ryder twins, then we can’t trust anyone outside our little
circle. Besides, you can’t read Garrett’s emotions, and you couldn’t read
Finch’s, either. Garrett was best friends with Finch, who turned out to be
Katherine Shipton’s son. I may have been friends with Garrett in the past, but
he’s not the guy I used to know. I just don’t trust him.” He let out a tired sigh.
“Is any of this making sense to you? Because, in my head, it does.”
I thought about it for a moment. He made a couple of fair points, but the
situation wasn’t all that simple. “I specifically remember the stunned look on
Garrett’s face when Finch was revealed as the Bestiary’s saboteur. It looked
genuine. Also, let’s not classify everyone whose emotions I can’t feel as evil.
I doubt my Empathy works like that. If we’re to follow that reasoning, then
Tobe is partially evil, because I can’t feel most of him. Preceptor Sloane
Bellmore would be evil, too. Imogene Whitehall…”
The mere mention of her name made Wade straighten his back and lit
green fires in his eyes. I couldn’t help but giggle, though there was an
underlying nagging feeling that I couldn’t quite shake on this topic.
“Good Lord, you have such a crush on her,” I added, laughing lightly.
Deep down, I wasn’t really laughing.
“Yeah, you might be right about the Empathy part,” he replied, ignoring
the crush remark. “You said you don’t feel a bunch of other magicals in the
coven, either.”
“Exactly. As far as Garrett is concerned, I’m not saying he’s 100 percent
innocent, nor that he has anything to do with this. Nothing is certain at this
point. But nothing stops you from talking to him and at least airing out the
closets, getting rid of the skeletons… You know, what reasonable adults do
when there’s conflict.”
He seemed to relax as I said that. It was as if he’d been hoping I’d debunk
this whole Garrett suspicion. Wade had once cared about Garrett, deeply, but
their friendship had fallen apart. I didn’t expect to fix it and make it right, but
they could at least talk about it.
Speaking of getting unpleasant stuff out of the way, I’d been thinking
about something lately, involving Katherine Shipton and Finch, and decided
to share it with Wade as we reached the magnolia trees in the middle of the
dome.
“Listen, I want to go down into the dungeons and talk to Adley,” I said.
Wade didn’t seem surprised. He smirked, instead. “We don’t have
dungeons, Harley. We have a basement. This isn’t a medieval castle, with
dark towers, dungeons, and alligator-ridden moats.”
“You and your technicalities,” I grumbled. “But yeah. Adley. I want to
talk to her about everything that happened. It’s been long enough. She’s had
time to stew, and I’ve had time to clear my cluttered head. If Katherine
Shipton is planning a comeback with the Ryder twins or something, I think
it’s now more important than ever that I gather as much intel on that witch as
possible. That includes talking to Adley de la Barthe. Maybe even Finch.”
“I doubt Alton would let you go to Purgatory to talk to Finch, but I don’t
see a problem with speaking to Adley,” Wade replied. “But you’ll have to be
careful, Harley. She’s a seasoned witch. She could’ve been faking some of
her emotions, knowing you’re an Empath. She could’ve known all about
Finch’s plans from the very beginning, then lied about it to avoid Purgatory.
The only reason she’s here is because we couldn’t get her to confess to that.
We managed to sentence her to a year in the basement for failing to meet
regulations, since she didn’t register Finch as a Shapeshifter after his
Reading. Had we been able to take her down for conspiracy to commit
murder through the gargoyles, she would’ve been tossed into Purgatory
without so much as an appeal.”
He made a fair point. I, too, had been aware of the possibility. But I also
had confidence in my ability to read people with my Empathy. It was a link
to one’s soul, in a way.
“I get that. Still, I think I got a clear picture of her. I do think I need to
talk to her,” I replied.
Wade sighed and shook his head. There was something about him that I
couldn’t quite understand. Even with my Empathy, some of his feelings
escaped me, particularly at that moment, as we stood under the magnolia tree
and looked at each other. I sensed concern and curiosity, but there was
something else—a thread I couldn’t quite follow.
Remembering that physical contact amplified my power, I took hold of
his wrist, feeling his skin against my fingertips. Wade stilled, his expression
firm as he stared at me.
I, on the other hand, felt my knees weaken. My limbs were jelly. A wave
of sweet and spicy warmth washed over me, filling me up. The sensation was
incredible, like nothing I’d ever experienced before. It was as if Wade’s
subconscious was trying to reach out to me, to tell me a secret.
It felt like a high of sorts, impossible to forget, as time stood still around
us. I glanced at my Esprit and noticed the white pearl glowing—it was
definitely amplifying this physical touch for me.
 I was glazed in liquid sunshine, until he politely pulled his hand back and
looked away.
“Sorry,” I murmured. “Sometimes I get a better feel for people when I
touch them.”
His eyes found me again. He was nervous. “And? What did you… feel?”
Heat burst through my cheeks. I didn’t know what to say. Not only
because I wasn’t sure what I’d felt, but also because he didn’t seem like he
really wanted to know. Whether it was my Esprit amplifying my Empathy or
not, I’d gotten a glimpse of a secret Wade, a side of him he’d been working
hard to keep hidden. I kind of felt bad at the thought of him knowing I’d seen
it. Sometimes, concessions were okay.
“Concern,” I replied. “I know. You’re worried. I appreciate it.”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt or fooled by anyone even remotely
connected to Katherine Shipton,” Wade said, his gaze softening on my face.
Just then, my phone beeped. I’d gotten a text. “At this hour?” I croaked,
then pulled my phone out to check it. “Oh… It’s from Krieger.”
My heart was thudding. That was all me.
“What does it say?” Wade asked.
“He… He wants me to do the Reading tomorrow. Well, it’s after
midnight already, so today. At six a.m. What kind of monster is he?” I
groaned. But, at the same time, I was excited.
“The early-bird type, clearly,” Wade replied. “Go hit the sack, Merlin. I’ll
see you tomorrow.”
He didn’t wait for me to respond. He glided up one of the staircases and
vanished into his room. I exhaled deeply, reading Krieger’s message again.
With everything that was already going on, I had to admit, this was
something I was really looking forward to.
The moment of truth.
 FIFTEEN

Harley

was barely able to sleep. Despite the fact that I was tired, I was wound up
I by what had happened the previous day. The anticipation of my second
Reading played a substantial part, too.
At six in the morning, I knocked on the infirmary door. My hands were
shaking, so I balled them into fists and kept them behind my back.
When Krieger opened the door and greeted me with a bright smile, I
found myself at a loss for words.
“Good morning, Doctor,” I said, my voice barely audible.
“Ah. Miss Merlin! Punctuality is something I value in people! Come in,”
he replied, stepping aside.
I walked into the infirmary. The white neon lights glowed overhead.
Combined with the pristine walls and metallic details, it generated a
brightness to which my eyes needed a few seconds to properly adjust.
In the middle of the room was the infamous Reading chair, complete with
its leather straps. I couldn’t ignore the flashbacks—my first time in this room
with Adley de la Barthe, Alton, and Wade, and that big-ass syringe that could
easily be used to stab and kill a medium-sized mammal.
As if sensing my raw nerves, Krieger shut the door and chuckled. “Relax,
Miss Merlin. I promised I would make the process less painful for you. I
intend to keep my word.”
“I take it you, too, experienced the monstrous jab, huh?” I replied,
stopping in front of the chair.
“Absolutely. It scars you for life,” Krieger muttered. He walked over to
one of the tables on the right. It was loaded with a variety of weird-looking
instruments, copper bowls, and glass bottles filled with herbs and crystals.
Next to them was a large, open notebook and a long-necked desk light. By
the looks of it, that was Krieger’s workspace.
“How is your magical detector work coming along?” I asked, nowhere
near ready to sit in the chair. I was equal parts excited and terrified—not of
the needle this time, but of the result. This was it. My one chance to find out
whether I was really a Mediocre or not. Assuming, of course, that the first
Reading had been wrong or incomplete.
“Quite well, actually. As I said before, Adley had done most of the
research work. I’m simply following up on all her theories, putting each into
practice. I’ve managed to identify a magical’s energy signature, and I can
scan it with a device I built, based on Adley’s notes,” Krieger replied,
pointing at a remote-control-looking gadget on the table, alongside the
notebook. The device was wide open, its cables and circuits spilled out under
a magnifying glass. “I’ve managed to compare the energy reading to blood
samples from the same magicals, and I’ve identified the markers to follow for
a proper Reading.”
“Oh, wow,” I said. “That’s quite some progress.”
Krieger beamed with pride. “Yes, it is. However, I’ve yet to figure out a
way to customize the device and make it function like the Reading bowl. This
is where magic and science truly intertwine, and it’s a massive headache.”
“I’m sure you’ll crack it.”
“Right. I don’t give up easily. There are some passages in Adley’s book
that I don’t quite understand, but our libraries can surely shed some light. The
magical detector won’t happen tomorrow, though.” He sighed.
“Well, you strike me as a pretty sharp tack, Doctor. You’ll figure it out
soon enough,” I murmured.
He stared back at me, the corner of his mouth twitching. A minute passed
in awkward silence before he spoke again. “So, are you going to stand there
like a deer in headlights, or will you sit down and let me do the Reading?”
I laughed nervously and gathered the courage to sit in the chair. I kept my
hands in my lap, eyeing the leather restraints. Krieger took out the copper
bowl with its hieroglyph etchings, along with a square tin box and a…
hypodermic syringe. I breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of it.
“That looks much better,” I said.
Its stem was made of stainless steel, with runes engraved on one side, but
the needle was short and extremely thin. It was nothing compared to its
predecessor, the elephant tranquilizer. He placed them all on a small table,
which he wheeled over to my side, and proceeded to mix the Reading
ingredients in the bowl. From what I could tell, this was slightly different
from my previous Reading.
Krieger combined a variety of powdered crystals and crushed herbs in the
middle of the bowl, then picked up the syringe and smiled at me. “This won’t
hurt a bit,” he said. “I had this made to order in a Washington craft shop.”
“Yeah, I get that… What’s up with all the paraphernalia, though? Adley
didn’t use that before.”
“Ah. These are all amplifiers,” he said, pointing at the bowl’s contents.
“They’re meant to… let’s say, zoom in on your blood. There would be no
point in doing a similar Reading again. We’d get the same results. We’re
digging deeper this time.”
Thankful that this didn’t require any leather straps, I put my forearm out,
allowing Krieger to draw my blood through that slim, nifty-looking syringe. I
barely felt the pinch, and it was over before I could say “Abracadabra.”He
released the blood into the bowl and mixed it with a sterling silver spoon,
whispering a spell. Within seconds, the dark crimson liquid flashed white,
then swirled out across the hieroglyphs, drawing an intricate mandala pattern
in the process.
I had no idea what I was watching, but Krieger was dazzled by the entire
display. The flash faded away, leaving behind the dried blood swirls and
lines. The final result made him grunt, while I held my breath, on the edge of
my seat.
“What… Um, what does it say?” I asked.
He cackled, as if he’d just uncovered the secrets of the universe. “I knew
it!”
“What? What did you know?”
“It makes sense now. Why it slipped past the first Reading…” he
muttered, scratching his beard and virtually ignoring me. “No one would’ve
looked twice, had they not known who your parents were, at the time. After
all, Mediocrity births Mediocrity, but excellence would never—”
 He stopped himself, then raised his head to look at me.
“What?” I snapped, close to breaking into a cold sweat.
“Miss Merlin, have you ever heard of a Dempsey Suppressor?” he asked,
his tone eerily calm. I shook my head. “It was invented by Richard Dempsey,
one of America’s finest preceptors of Charms and Hexes back in the 1800s.
It’s a tiny little thing, a charm of sorts, able to suppress a magical’s energy
and completely distort a Reading. Dempsey crafted it as an experiment with
the intention of using it against dangerous magicals.”
“Okay. I’m guessing it has something to do with me?” I asked, rather
rhetorically.
Krieger sighed, then put a hand on his hip and gave me a pitiful half-
smile. “Miss Merlin, you have a Dempsey Suppressor in you.”
“Seriously?”
Chills trickled through my veins as I tried to wrap my head around this
revelation.
“The Dempsey Suppressor is a hidden, dirty little secret of the upper
echelons in our magical society. They’re not crafted by just anyone. The
knowledge behind them is reserved only for certain individuals. Given the
conditions of your birth and your noble bloodline, I can only draw one
conclusion from this. Your father, Hiram Merlin, former director of the New
York Coven, implanted a Dempsey Suppressor in you shortly after you were
born.”
That assessment felt like a punch in the gut. I took several deep breaths,
trying to imagine how that would’ve come to happen. I decided to voice my
thoughts, hoping that Krieger might be able to assist me in formulating a
complete reasoning.
“I was in my father’s care until the age of three, after which I was
dropped off at an orphanage here, in San Diego…”
Krieger nodded once. “Yes. I think your father wanted you to be as
normal as possible, despite your magical heritage. I suppose he wanted to
keep you off the radar and out of the coven’s sight,” he explained. “The
Dempsey Suppressor is certainly doing its job, Miss Merlin. There is power
inside you, more than one usually finds in a witch, I should add. But it’s
toned down. Muffled. Which is why you were initially labeled a Mediocre.”
“My father used a… Dempsey Suppressor to hide me from the covens…
Adley de la Barthe said that, given my limited abilities and Chaos, I’d maybe
get to do one Purge in this lifetime,” I murmured, remembering my first
Reading. “Since she’d thought I was a Mediocre. I guess she was wrong. I’m
not a Mediocre after all.”
“Oh, you are anything but! Miss Merlin, you are one of the most powerful
magicals I’ve come across in my lifetime, and, trust me, I’ve done a lot of
Readings before you. If we could find a way to remove the Suppressor, we
would unleash your full potential.”
“Wait. If?” I asked. “What do you mean, if?”
Krieger shrugged. “The Dempsey Suppressor, in addition to being a
highly complex and rarely approved charm, is also meant to be permanent.”
My stomach dropped. I slumped in the chair, as if the burden of ages had
suddenly been released on my shoulders. Nevertheless, I wasn’t ready to
resign myself to living a limited existence. My very soul was on fire, eager to
discover the full extent of my power. I needed it now, more than ever, with
Katherine Shipton lurking around.
“You said you use it on dangerous magicals. I suppose you’re referring to
those imprisoned in Purgatory,” I said. “But didn’t Dempsey think of a way
to undo it if, say, the magical in question was proven innocent?”
“Well, the Suppressor is only applied after a sentence is laid out,” Krieger
replied. “It’s not impossible to remove it; it’s just tedious. You see, it’s a very
small object, about the size of a fingernail. It’s implanted in a bone and, as
the tissue regenerates, it’s difficult to detect. It often doesn’t show up on X-
rays. I would recommend starting there. But then there is the question of how
to remove it without harming you, physically and magically. It’s tamper-
proof and requires a certain surgical skill to extract it without triggering its
tamper-proof mechanisms. Dempsey thought of everything when he devised
it, I’m afraid.”
“What if I push myself? In training, I mean, and with my Esprit?
Wouldn’t I ever be able to break it?” I asked.
“I strongly advise against that, Miss Merlin. It may hurt you in ways
beyond repair,” Krieger warned. “Remember, Dempsey created it to suppress
exceptional but criminal magicals. Imagine what would’ve happened if any
of them had been able to just bypass it with sheer willpower. It wouldn’t end
well for you.”
I felt like a deflated balloon. Krieger didn’t enjoy seeing me like that. I
could feel his angst and frustration. He wanted to help me. In addition, he
was insanely curious. Much like me, I was sure he wanted to see the exact
limits of my Chaos powers.
“Hiram put it there for a reason,” Krieger added. “It was meant to protect
you from discovery. I must say, your powers, or at least some of them, still
managed to slip through. The Dempsey Suppressor is designed to be much
more powerful. Frankly, it shouldn’t even have let all four of your Elemental
abilities out! Even after your first Reading, you were puzzling to most,
simply because you’re a full Elemental, an Empath, and a Telekinetic. I can’t
help but wonder if there’s more lying beneath that limitation…”
“Shocked” didn’t begin to describe my current state. Stunned? More or
less the same thing. Baffled? Absolutely. Resigned? Still—hell, no. A
thousand times, no.
“So, what you’re saying is that… even with the Suppressor on, my
powers still slipped through,” I concluded.
“Exactly. I will look into a detection and extraction procedure, Miss
Merlin, as I myself am personally intrigued,” Krieger said, grinning.
I chuckled. “Yeah, I can feel that. Thank you, Doctor. At least I know
now.”
“I’m pleased I could give you some good news. Even though we often
refer to Mediocrity as being just a label, it does have an impact on our lives
as magicals. Nobody really wants to be a Mediocre, after all. In your case,
it’s even preposterous!” Krieger replied. “Give me some time to research the
Dempsey Suppressor properly, and I’ll advise you on the next steps once I
know what to do. In the meantime, I will report this to Alton. I’m sure he’ll
be interested in hearing these results.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet. In fact, I think he’ll be pleased. He did say there was more
to me than met the eye,” I said, then remembered Garrett’s advice from the
previous night. “Doctor Krieger, I wanted to ask you something, and I think
it’s related to this. Light and Darkness—I’ve read about a magical’s
affiliation to one or the other, but I don’t understand exactly how that works,
or what it means.”
Krieger paused, his pale blue eyes fixed on mine. His lips curled into a
devious little smile. “I guessed you would ask, at some point. Adley never
mentioned it in the report she wrote after your first Reading. It struck me as
odd, but, thinking of you as a Mediocre, I wasn’t sure it mattered much. Now,
however, it’s different. Allow me to explain.”
 He rushed to his desk and fumbled through one of the drawers, then came
back with an old book, flipping through its pages until he found what he was
looking for.
“Light and Darkness are primordial Children of Chaos. It’s not a matter
of good and evil here, because that isn’t how we quantify Light and
Darkness,” he continued, and handed me the book. He showed me an
illustration depicting two dragons flying around each other, one black, the
other white. “It is true that many magicals connected to Darkness end up
committing terrible crimes, but it’s always been my belief that it is more a
question of character than of Chaos. Light and Darkness amplify a magical’s
abilities differently. It would be difficult for me to explain right now, but I
will leave this book with you for reference.”
“How does this connection work?” I asked, holding on to the book.
“You’re born with it. We all are. I, for example, belong to Darkness. My
abilities are intense and can be extremely destructive,” Krieger said.
“But you’re such a sweetheart,” I replied, smiling.
“Don’t let the good versus bad prejudice cloud your judgment,” he shot
back. “I told you, that’s not how we view Light and Darkness. Light-
affiliated magicals experience a different kind of intensity in their powers.
They’re more inclined toward Telekinesis and Herculean abilities, for
example, as well as Air and Water Elementals. Darkness is better connected
to Shapeshifting, Empathy, Earth and Fire, Necromancy, and other death-
related powers. Perhaps that’s where the stigma comes from. Like I said, that
book will give you more insight on both.”
“I thought Elementals were all drawn to Light.”
“It’s not a rule,” he replied. “Most are, but many aren’t,” he added,
smiling. “Like I said, there’s no set value for Darkness and Light. You can
still find a Necromancer who’s on the Light side. Extremely rare, but still, it
proves it’s possible.”
“Okay. So, what am I connected to?” I asked.
“That’s the million-dollar question,” Krieger said. “Your connection right
now is inconclusive at best. I would need to remove the Dempsey Suppressor
to know exactly where you fall on the spectrum. Given your combined
abilities, it’s difficult to even guess right now. You might as well know that
Raffe Levi, Alton Waterhouse, Tatyana Vasilis, and Garrett Kyteler are
connected to Darkness. Your other friends are part of Light.”
 That did come as a surprise, but, based on Krieger’s explanations, it made
sense. After all, Tatyana and Alton had death-related abilities, for example.
Alton’s notes from my parents’ file became even more intriguing.
“I’m told that my mother was Darkness and that my father was Light,” I
replied.
“Which will make your full power even more interesting, once we take
that thing out of you and figure out which connection you inherited,” Krieger
murmured.
Looking back, my father’s wish to have me grow up like a normal human
felt like a double-edged blade. On the one hand, he’d probably wanted to
protect me by keeping me hidden. On the other hand, however, it seriously
impaired my development as a magical.
I let out a heavy sigh before giving Krieger a faint nod. “Thank you for
everything, Doctor. And for the book.”
“Don’t let the Suppressor’s existence weigh down on you,” Krieger said.
“I won’t. But I am curious about a few things and have questions. I think
Adley will have the answers to them. I’m wondering if she did notice the
Suppressor during my first Reading and chose to hide it from me. I don’t
know, maybe I’m reaching.”
“Not really. In the magical world, nothing is absolute. Given your
Empath ability, you may sense deception in her if you ask the right
questions,” Krieger replied. “If you’d like, I can join you. I have some
inquiries of my own where her work is concerned, anyway.”
I smiled, touched by his kind nature and slightly amused by his
inquisitiveness. Krieger was nothing like what the rumors said. He sure did
inspire dread and chills, and that German accent didn’t help, but the guy was
amazing.
“I’d like that, thank you,” I said.
“Besides, after everything that happened, I don’t think you should be left
alone with Adley.”
He had a point there. And it was going to work in my favor if I had
another pair of eyes in the room with me. If Wade was right in his suspicion
that Adley may be able to deceive my Empathy, Krieger could, perhaps, spot
that. He didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who could be easily fooled.
Krieger and I agreed to meet later to speak to Adley, after which I left the
infirmary with a positive attitude. I wasn’t a Mediocre, and I was looking
forward to rubbing that in Wade’s face. But I was being suppressed… and
that needed fixing, as soon as possible.
 SIXTEEN

Tatyana

’d spent most of the previous evening by Dylan’s side in the infirmary.

I Krieger’s nurses were wonderful and kind, allowing me to stay there well
past visiting hours. Dylan slept for most of the time, only waking up for a few
minutes now and then. He’d mumble something, then doze off again. That
beastly hex had drained the life out of him, and it was going to take a while
for him to make a full recovery.
That morning, I felt as though it was the start of a fresh, new day. The
optimism was more than I usually dealt with prior to coffee, but I welcomed
it.
After all, I’d been feeling so guilty about what happened to Dylan.
And I hadn’t found out anything more about Will or how he’d died.
Astrid’s search through Smartie didn’t return any useful results. Alton figured
it was probably because Will’s family wasn’t registered with the coven.
There had been no record of a William living at that address in the electronic
database. So that was a dead-end for the time being, and since it had probably
happened a long time ago, long enough for Will to lose track of time
altogether, I assumed it wasn’t in any way related to our issue with the Ryder
twins.
In the end, I had to focus on any information or facts that were recent and
fresh. Once a trail went cold, it seemed nearly impossible to find anything.
I slipped out of a hot shower, feeling rejuvenated and energized. If
someone were to make me run around a football field in that instant, I
would’ve darted off willingly. I wrapped a towel around my body and
removed the shower cap, letting my long blonde hair loose.
I wiped the steam from the bathroom mirror to look at myself, then froze.
I was nowhere to be found in the mirror. Oberon Marx was my reflection.
He was watching me. He was me.
Dammit, he never left!
“What the hell?!” I croaked, feeling my blood boil.
Oberon stilled, surprised by my reaction. “Oh, crap, you can see me.”
“The mirrors never lie, Oberon! You should’ve known better than to stow
away in my body!”
“Okay. Okay. Take it easy, Tatyana, I don’t mean any harm.” Oberon
tried to calm me down, but fury was blazing through me like a firestorm. In
my mind, I was already trying to remember an expulsion chant. For some
reason, those memories were fuzzy.
Scratch that. It’s not just some reason. It’s him! He’s messing with my
head!
“I’m not messing with your head, Tatyana, I swear!” Oberon continued,
having read my mind.
I gasped. “Crap.”
“I can hear your thoughts, sweetheart. Sorry,” he said.
I took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure and find a solution to
this problem. With Oberon still in my body, I wasn’t really myself anymore.
It was only a matter of time before he’d try to take over completely. They all
tried that. I should’ve paid more attention to my mother’s teachings as a kid.
She’d warned me about this, but I was too absorbed in talking to dead people
at the time. The Kolduny were a rare and strict magical typology. There
weren’t that many books about us.
And why the hell couldn’t I remember any of the expulsion spells?
Oberon was definitely messing around in my noggin. I didn’t like it. I had to
figure out a way to get him out without him knowing it—challenge of the
century.
“What do you want?” I asked. “Why are you still here?”
“I swear I have zero intentions of taking over your body. It’s not why I’m
here, I promise,” Oberon replied. “If it were, you’d be gone by now, trust
me.”
 “Okay. That still doesn’t answer my question.”
I gripped the edge of the sink with both hands, trying to analyze my
situation and surroundings as best as I could, knowing that Oberon was tuned
in to my thoughts. I had to be careful.
“Listen, Tatyana, you touched me in ways I didn’t think possible,” he
said, wearing a pained expression. “I’ve been drifting around this place for so
long, I was becoming cynical and jaded. But you brought me back to life. The
lengths you were willing to go to in order to save your friend… That’s
hardcore, girl. I like that.” He chuckled, then turned serious all of a sudden.
“You’ve got trouble in this coven, and I want to help you.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“There’s darkness lurking around here. I can’t quite put my finger on it,
and the other spirits whisper to each other,” he replied. “It’s hard to get
something concrete out of them, but they all say the same thing, on a very
annoying loop. A storm is coming. A storm is coming. A storm is coming.
I’ve been hearing that line since Harley Merlin first set foot inside the San
Diego Coven.”
My stomach churned. “And you think you can help me?” I murmured,
frowning.
It agitated me to no longer see my own reflection in the mirror, because it
reminded me of how easy it was to lose control.
“I’ve been quiet in here,” Oberon said. “I’m being gentle and not
interfering in anything you do. I’ll keep doing that, I promise. But I need you
to let me ride along, until the trouble—the so-called storm—passes. You’ll
need me, Tatyana. You’ll need my strength, my Herculean abilities,
especially now that Dylan is indisposed.”
“Wait, so you want to stay in me for a little while longer? Have you lost
your damn mind?” I hissed.
“I can help you!”
I glared at him. “You’ve gone nuts. I guess that’s what happens when you
wander through the veil for so long, without moving on, huh?”
“It’s not that!” Oberon snapped, then inhaled deeply in order to keep
himself leveled. Ironically, I could feel his frustration as if it were mine. I
wondered if that was how Empathy felt for Harley. “Tatyana, I like you.
You’re a good girl with a strong connection to Darkness. You’re a Kolduny,
for heaven’s sake! You’re a rare gem among the magicals, but you don’t have
my strength, and you don’t know the people I know… in the spirit world, that
is.”
That captured my interest, and I paused for a moment before muttering,
“Go on.”
“Let me stay with you for a little while longer, at least until you catch the
Ryder twins. I think they have something to do with this impending storm. I
can feel it in my gut,” he said.
“You don’t have a gut anymore. You’re piggybacking on mine,” I fired
back.
He grinned. “You know what I mean. Tatyana, you may be able to
contact the spirit world and call out to them, but you know they don’t always
cooperate. I can help you with that. I know everyone in this coven, darling.
And I can put you in touch with some dead folk who knew the Ryder twins.”
I thought about it for a while, well aware that Oberon could hear my
thought process. He could separate himself from that and give me some
privacy, but, at that moment, it was in his best interests to listen. He was
trying to convince me to let him stay.
“Can you reach out to them soon?” I asked.
He smiled. “Yes. It will take some time, though. Maybe a day or two.
They’re holed up somewhere in the veil. I’ll have to put the word out for their
wispy butts to find me. But I guarantee you they will come, and they will
cooperate with you, because of me. I swear. All you have to do is let me stay
here for a little while longer. That’s all.”
A minute passed in grueling silence as I measured the pros and cons. I
had to maintain control of the situation. I’d never had a spirit stay with me for
so long, but I had enough confidence in my mental strength. I couldn’t expel
him on my own, but Santana had been trained for situations like this. She
could take me down, tie me up, and use an ancient Roman exorcism to drive
Oberon out, if needed. Until then, I could take this ride and maybe get to the
Ryder twins sooner rather than later.
“You’ll stay out of my mind,” I said.
He nodded, visibly excited. “Absolutely. You’ll have your privacy, at all
times. I’ll just be here, in the background, enjoying the senses of touch,
smell, hearing, and taste again… Ahhh! I can’t wait to feel coffee on my
tongue!” He chuckled, then switched back to his serious mode. He was
making it hard for me to be angry at him. Even in death, Oberon Marx could
be quite charming. “And I’ll lend you my strength, should you need it.”
“I call the shots, at all times. Do we have an agreement?”
“Yes. Absolutely. You’re in charge, Tatyana.”
“Okay… You can stay. Just don’t make me regret this,” I replied.
I wasn’t comfortable with this decision, but Oberon did have a point. If
the Ryder twins were planning something big and bad, I needed to do my part
and gather as much intel as possible. By whatever means necessary.
“You won’t regret it. I promise,” Oberon said, beaming like the morning
sun. “I’ll reach out to the spirits today. I’ll find your Ryder links and bring
them to you.”
I nodded once. “Let’s keep this between us, though. I’ll avoid mirrors, so
my crew doesn’t spot you.”
“I get it. I’ll be discreet,” he replied.
Spirits had tried to take over my body before. It never ended well for
them—or for me, either. They always drained the energy out of me, knocking
me out for hours on end. Oberon felt different, though. He fueled me. It was a
fascinating type of symbiosis, one I was interested in studying further, now
that I had that chance.
I also knew Santana and Dylan would be the first to object.
But if I could do anything to help catch the Ryder twins and stop them
from poisoning the minds of other magicals, I was ready to do it. Even if it
meant bending my Kolduny ethics.
 SEVENTEEN

Harley

fter the Reading, I made my way to the banquet hall. It was breakfast
A time, and I was dying for a cup of hot coffee. The lack of sleep from the
previous night was callously reminding me that I needed a lot of caffeine to
get through the day.
However, the knowledge that I wasn’t in fact a Mediocre put a huge grin
on my face. Of course, the magicals I passed by along the way didn’t know
that and probably thought I’d lost my marbles, but it didn’t matter. I’m not a
Mediocre. Suck it, haters!
But something else was on my mind, too—besides the Dempsey
Suppressor and the risks of its extraction via surgery. I’d used the
dreamcatcher last night, and I’d gotten a better look at Isadora Merlin inside
one of my earliest memories. I had a clear picture of her in my head. The
long, undulating black hair, the sky-blue eyes that mirrored mine and my
father’s, the stern look on her face, and the mild furrow of her slim
eyebrows… I wondered whether she was still alive, or whether Katherine
Shipton or some other vicious magical had gotten to her.
Alton didn’t know much about Isadora, but the one thing he could tell me
with absolute certainty was that she was hated by a lot of criminal witches
and warlocks. It turned out, my Merlin auntie had put away a lot of baddies in
Purgatory, back in the day.
I couldn’t help but grin as I walked into the banquet hall, eager to share
the news of my faux Mediocrity with the rest of my crew. I came to a sudden
halt when I found Santana, Tatyana, Astrid, Raffe, and Wade at the same side
of a table with Garrett. Poe and the others on his old team were on the
opposite end, scowling at my people. That sight was confusing, to say the
least, and I doubted that Wade and Garrett had somehow gotten past their
differences over the course of one night.
Nevertheless, my head felt heavy, so I loaded up on coffee first, then
went to our side of the table, giving both Wade and Garrett a questioning
look. No one on the Rag Team seemed particularly happy that Garrett was
there. He was sporting a smug grin, complete with his signature dimples.
“What’s up, fellas?” I asked, my voice stuck on a higher pitch than usual.
I glanced around the table. Astrid was confused. Santana was irritated.
Raffe, as always, was an absolute mess for me to read, and Tatyana was on
edge. There was something slightly different about her, but I couldn’t tell
what, exactly, since Garrett was an obvious disruptor for everyone’s
emotions. Wade was nearing the boiling point, while Garrett… well, was
Garrett. Unreadable but clearly pleased.
“Is that mocha?” he asked, nodding at my mug.
I shook my head. “Nah, latte. I’m having plenty of these babies today, so
I’m thinning them out with milk,” I replied. “So, what brings you to our end
of the table, Garrett?”
Wade sighed, unable to look at me and, instead, resigned to staring at his
coffee. “Garrett is joining our team,” he said. “Alton assigned him while
Dylan is recovering.”
“Ah.” My reply was flat. I had mixed feelings about this. I’d seen Garrett
in action during the gargoyle bonanza, but I hadn’t had the chance to work
with him. I knew he was a highly skilled magical, so, to that credit, he
seemed like a good addition to the Rag Team. At the same time, I was
worried about friction. Garrett was the kind of guy who spoke his mind and
loved it when that pissed people off. He was what I commonly referred to as
a “social sadist.” Since the post-Finch shift in his behavior, he was actually
nice to me, despite his occasionally abrasive comebacks, but I couldn’t say
the same for his dynamic with the others. I took a sip from my coffee and
gave Garrett a brief nod. “Well, that explains the sour faces on everyone this
morning.”
“Hey, orders are orders,” Garrett said with a casual shrug.
 “We’ve agreed to take Garrett with us,” Tatyana added, “to preserve
yesterday’s split. You, Wade, Raffe, and Santana can do your thing in peace.
I can handle Garrett.”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry, Tatyana. I’ll be on my best behavior.”
“It’s not your behavior I’m worried about. It’s that rotten mind of yours.
It bypasses your mouth, and it gets on my nerves. Lucky for you, I’m well
equipped to smack you around if needed,” Tatyana said. Her eyes glimmered
with what felt like excitement. From what I could tell, she would’ve liked for
Garrett to challenge her, as if she was itching for a fight. That wasn’t like her.
I figured she’d had a rough night, with Dylan still recovering. Maybe
lashing out was her way of coping with what had happened, especially since I
knew she’d blamed herself for the whole Kenneth Willow incident.
“I’m sure Garrett won’t do anything to get on your bad side,” Wade
interjected before Garrett could open his mouth and object to her sharp
warning. “He’s a good magical and a professional. He’s grown since the
Finch incident.”
Both Garrett and I were surprised to hear Wade talk like that. Deep down,
I sensed relief. Wade wasn’t happy with Garrett on our crew, but he certainly
was fine with passing him over to Tatyana and Astrid. He was pleased to not
have to spend the day in his presence.
Making the best of a bad situation, I guess.
“How did your Reading go?” Wade asked me.
All eyes were on me now. It was time for the not-so-grand reveal. I put on
a confident smile. “My dad put a Dempsey Suppressor in me when I was a
baby,” I said.
They were all stunned. They apparently knew what the device was and
what it did. A few seconds passed before Wade put two and two together, his
eyes wide with surprise and his heart filled with… joy. This is unexpected.
“It makes sense,” he replied. “You’re an Empath, a Telekinetic, and a full
Elemental. Alton was right. There was definitely something off about you
being a Mediocre.”
“Is that why you kept hammering the prospect of Mediocrity in my
head?” I replied with a raised eyebrow, prompting Garrett to chuckle. I
scowled at him, too. “You were no better, remember?”
As expected, my comeback was enough to wipe the grin from his face.
“I was trying to be realistic! I was working with what we were given from
the first Reading. I just didn’t want you to get your hopes up and then be
disappointed,” Wade muttered, though I sensed regret oozing out of him,
thick and heavy.
“It’s cool. Krieger said the regular Reading wouldn’t have spotted the
Suppressor anyway,” I replied.
Astrid jumped up and hugged me. “I knew it!” She giggled. “I called it!”
“That she did, that she totally did,” Santana chimed in, smiling.
They were all happy for me. It filled me with light and hope, thankful to
have people like them around. I would’ve gone to the end of the world for
them, simply because of how supportive they’d been.
“So, Krieger found the Suppressor, huh?” Raffe asked.
“Nope. He knows it’s present, but he needs to do a full body scan, X-rays
and stuff. Plus, there are risks in removing it because of how it was
designed,” I explained. “He’s looking into it, though. I guess we’ll cross that
bridge when we get there. The interesting part is that it was supposed to fully
suppress my abilities.”
“Obviously, it didn’t,” Santana murmured.
“Which Krieger says is amazing,” I added. “He thinks it’s because—”
“There’s so much power in you that it couldn’t be held back properly
with a Dempsey Suppressor,” Wade replied, in genuine awe of me.
I smirked, relishing the ripples of pride swelling my chest. “Yup,” I said,
then let out a heavy sigh. “But it’s kind of useless if it’s not set free. So,
technically speaking, I’m not a Mediocre, but, in practicality, I kind of am.
For now.”
“Hey. At least you know the truth!” Santana said encouragingly.
A phone beeped. Tatyana checked hers. “Okay, we’ll need to get ready
soon. My first alarm just went off.”
I still had something to do before delving into day two of our magical
operations.
“You guys go ahead and get ready. I need to talk to Krieger about
something else,” I said. “I’ll meet you by the dragon fountain in an hour?”
They all nodded, and I left them behind as I made my way out of the
banquet hall. I could feel Wade’s eyes on me. One quick glance over my
shoulder confirmed it: he was watching me. The emotions coming off him
were different. Warm and curious…
I texted Krieger. It was time to talk to Adley.
 EIGHTEEN

Harley

s soon as I set foot in the basement, O’Halloran’s voice boomed through

A the main underground hallway. I was surprised to hear him, given that he
was supposed to still be in recovery. I advanced through the wide corridor,
chills running down my spine.
This wasn’t a dungeon, but it didn’t exactly inspire fuzzy feelings, either.
The walls, the ceiling, and the floor were made of cool, gray concrete, with
sharp white overhead lights. Several corridors connected to this main one. As
I passed by some of them, I noticed the metal doors, all kept under lock and
key and covered in charmed etchings. The magic used to keep criminals in
was similar to that in the Bestiary. Those who broke the coven laws were
treated like monsters.
Down here, the coven kept the witches and warlocks whose crimes
demanded sentences of up to five years. Everyone else was shipped off to
Purgatory. Judging by how this place looked, I didn’t even dare imagine what
Purgatory would be like.
The deeper I ventured, the louder O’Halloran’s voice got, until I found
him in a corridor to my right, yelling at two security magicals. He’d returned
to his black uniform and was leaning onto a cane for support. There were
some bruises still healing on his face, as well.
“Every four hours!” he barked. “You’re supposed to tour every damn
hallway, every four hours! Not five hours! Not six! Not four hours and four
minutes because you needed to finish your baloney sandwich! Four hours!”
The security magicals were quaking in their boots. They both stilled when
they saw me.
“What’s the matter, you ninnies? You look like you’ve seen a ghost, and,
last time I checked, we only have one Kolduny on the premises!” O’Halloran
growled. He was in a bad mood, but then again, it was in his nature to be
perpetually grumpy—that much I’d learned from Wade’s descriptions of his
numerous training sessions and security seminars. When O’Halloran yelled at
you, he was just slightly irritated. Most of us had gotten used to the half-Irish
powder keg, but the newer security magicals had yet to wrap their heads
around his moods.
O’Halloran turned around to follow their gazes and found me standing at
the end of the corridor. He lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Merlin! You little bundle of raw Chaos!” he exclaimed, clearly happy to
see me. O’Halloran was one of the magicals I couldn’t read, but his face
usually did the work for me. “Where have you been hiding?”
“Uh, nowhere, sir,” I replied, giving him a weary smile. “Working and
learning, sir. I thought you weren’t due to come out of the infirmary for at
least another week—”
“Hah! Is my presence here inconvenient to ya, Merlin?” O’Halloran
asked, pursing his lips. “Should I have stayed in bed long enough for you to
sneak around the basement prison? Huh?”
It was always hard to tell whether he was joking or whether he was
serious, because he always sounded like he was seconds away from beating
somebody up. His tone was always clipped or harsh, even when he was
jesting—his humor was too subtle, at best, making it hard for some of us to
catch on. I chuckled nervously, putting my hands behind my back and
adopting a pious posture.
“No, sir, not at all. I’m happy to see you’re out and about!” I replied. “I
just didn’t expect to see you out so soon, that’s all.”
He scowled at me for a moment while the two security magicals held
their breaths, probably also wondering whether he was serious or not.
O’Halloran had a way of keeping people on edge. I thought he secretly liked
it. Maybe a little too much.
He then burst into laughter and motioned for me to get closer. “I’m
kidding, Merlin! Get over here! I haven’t seen you in a while.”
 That was the security magicals’ cue to loosen up a little bit, since
O’Halloran was laughing—a rare sight. I sheepishly walked over and found
myself trapped in a bear hug as he put his arms around me and held me tight.
The security magicals were stunned. There was some fear in them, and not all
of it because of O’Halloran and his disciplinary fire. Some of it was because
of me… because of my last name. They knew I’d had nothing to do with
what my dad had done, but, still, there was a certain degree of reserve.
“I never got to thank you for saving my life,” O’Halloran said, gently
pushing me away. The hug was over, and he switched back to his formal self.
“No need to thank me, sir. I was just doing what’s right,” I replied, giving
him a polite nod.
“Well, not everybody jumps in the line of fire like you did. You’ve got
grit. I appreciate that,” he insisted. He looked back at the guards. “What the
hell are you two still doing here? Do your rounds!”
They nodded and rushed out into the main hallway.
“Remember, four hours!” O’Halloran shouted after them.
They vanished behind the corner. I kind of felt sorry for them, having
O’Halloran as their superior, but at the same time, I knew the SDC needed a
firm hand to help it run seamlessly, especially with all the eyes that were on
us—mainly because of the Bestiary, but also due to the return of Katherine
Shipton.
“So, what are you doing here, Merlin?” O’Halloran asked, his voice low
and calm, a complete 180-degree switch from two seconds ago. There was
genuine concern in his eyes. “You shouldn’t be down here.”
“Sir, I have full clearance now,” I replied.
“I know that! But still. You know who’s down here. The toll it took on
you must’ve been terrible,” he muttered.
He was referring to Adley de la Barthe. I was touched by his somewhat
fatherly concern. It was a funny thing, really. I’d spent my whole life as a
foster kid, stuck in the homes of some terrible people prior to the Smiths, and
dreaming about finding my own family. Now, the coven was trying to fill that
void. It had given me more than one “dad.” After Alton and Tobe,
O’Halloran seemed to be just as worried about my wellbeing, and I had to
admit it was sweet.
I smiled. “I know, sir. I’m here to talk to Adley.”
“Why in the blazes would you want to do that?”
 “She might have answers to some of my questions,” I replied with a
shrug.
Just then, Krieger joined us, and I felt a pinch of relief. With the good
doctor by my side, O’Halloran had no chance of trying to sway me from my
mission.
“O’Halloran!” Krieger exclaimed, slightly amused. “I thought my nurses
were sturdy enough to keep you down if you tried to escape!”
“Eh, I’m fine, Krieger,” O’Halloran retorted, rolling his eyes. “Just a little
sore, but I’m fine. I couldn’t take another minute in that damn bed,” he
added, and scowled at him. “You’re not here to take me back, are ya?
Because I’m not going down without a fight.”
Krieger laughed. “No, no, relax. I’m here to see Adley with Miss Merlin
here,” he said, giving me a quick sideways glance.
O’Halloran sighed, his brows furrowed as he looked at us.
“I’ll take you to her cell,” he grumbled, sounding defeated.
I understood his concern, and it was much appreciated, but my feelings
were meaningless if I couldn’t get some useful information out of Adley.
With the possibility of the Ryder twins being connected to Katherine Shipton,
Adley and Finch were my only viable leads.
We followed him down the corridor, until we stopped in front of door
number thirteen. Not that I was superstitious, but I couldn’t help but smile at
the sight of that number and compare it to Adley’s predicament.
“Thank you, sir,” I said to O’Halloran.
He gave me a brief nod. “Just don’t let her fool you. Ever since I found
out how she protected Finch, I’ve not been able to look at her the same way.
And don’t even get me started on Finch himself. My favorite kid in the whole
damn coven.” He sighed, shaking his head, clearly disappointed.
“Don’t let it get you down, O’Halloran,” Krieger said. “You survived,
and you’ll make sure nothing like that happens again.”
“You’re damn right,” O’Halloran replied, and unlocked door number
thirteen. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”
We went in to find Adley sitting in a chair, reading a book. Her cell was
small and contained the basics: a bed, a table, a couple of chairs, a trash can,
and a tiny adjoining bathroom. Because she was a nonviolent criminal, she
had some amenities included, judging by the pitcher of iced tea and plate of
cookies on the table.
 Adley had lost weight, almost resembling a ghost in her black prison
garb. She looked up and froze at the sight of me. Her hair had grown a bit,
covering the upper arch of her ears. Dark rings had settled under her eyes,
and her skin was pale.
“Harley,” she murmured, but didn’t move. “Doctor Krieger. What…
What are you doing here?”
The door closed behind us with a clang. O’Halloran was just outside,
quiet and patiently waiting. Krieger gave Adley a soft smile.
“Hi, Adley,” he said. “We’re here to talk to you about a few things, if you
don’t mind.”
She blinked several times, shame and grief hitting me from all angles—
all hers. She closed the book and turned in her chair to face us.
“Please, have a seat,” she replied, pointing at the bed and spare chair.
I didn’t feel like sitting down, but Krieger didn’t refuse the offer and
plopped himself in the chair. I stood, arms crossed, frowning, trying to get a
full read on her emotions.
“Do you get any sunlight at all?” I asked.
She nodded, wearing a resigned smile. “Once a day. Security rounds up
the prisoners every morning for an hour. There’s an open space specially
designed for us. It’s still part of the interdimensional pocket, but the walls are
transparent, enough for us to get our fix of vitamin D.”
I’d already had enough of the small talk. “Adley, we haven’t spoken since
they took you away, the day I woke up,” I said. “I need to ask you
something.”
Adley looked at me, then at Krieger, and exhaled deeply. “Sure, Harley.
I’ll tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”
“Why did you do it?” I asked. “What happened, exactly? I only got the
summary from Wade and Alton, but I need to hear it from you.”
“I was stupid, Harley, that’s what happened. I met Finch back in Los
Angeles. I fell in love. I thought he loved me, too. I didn’t care about the age
difference or the fact that there were so many things about him that I didn’t
know. I went in blind, and now there’s blood on my hands.”
“So, you knew Finch before you came to SDC,” I said. She nodded again.
“And you did his Reading shortly after he transferred here.”
“Yes. It was standard procedure. I didn’t even know he was a
Shapeshifter until I did his Reading,” she explained. “I knew the stigma
surrounding that ability, and I understood why he didn’t want people to
know. I found it odd that he didn’t want Alton to know, either, but I was
stupidly blind and head over heels in love with him. Whatever he wanted, I
did it. For that, I will always be sorry.”
“You lied for him, basically. You never registered his Shapeshifter
ability,” I said. “Didn’t he do a Reading in the LA Coven, too?”
Adley shook her head. “No. I discovered him as a magical in Los
Angeles, living with Agnes Anker, whom he said was his grandmother. I had
no idea about his connection to Katherine Shipton. I swear.”
“Okay, so let me get this straight. You met in LA, when he was
discovered as a magical, and hooked up, right?”
Krieger chuckled in the background. The man was proper in the way he
talked to people. My loose tongue cracked him up, it seemed.
Adley sighed once more. “We met in LA, before he was discovered as a
magical. He didn’t want to go in and get registered at the time.”
“You kept him hidden.”
“Yes. But we both knew we couldn’t keep that up for much longer, so I
begged him to come in on his own. He didn’t want to. He said he hated the
LA Coven, that he didn’t trust the magicals there. Some stories were coming
out in the magical community back then about corruption in the coven. Finch
knew some people there, though he never revealed himself as a magical to
them either. He pretended to be human.”
I stared at her. “This is incredible. You knew what a deceiver he was, and
that didn’t raise any red flags? Seriously?”
“As I said, I was stupid!” she replied. “I didn’t want him to stay rogue,
though. So, I suggested we move to San Diego. He agreed, and we left LA. I
came to the coven first, as the physician. Finch followed shortly afterward.”
“And you failed to disclose crucial information about him to a coven that
had just taken you in,” I pressed.
“That is correct. And there isn’t a day I don’t hate myself for it. I
withheld his Shapeshifter ability. His Telekinesis was known, as was his
Earth ability,” Adley explained. “We kept our relationship a secret because,
well, we were both new here. I didn’t want people to talk about us. Finch
didn’t want us to go public, either. Actually, he was quite adamant about it,”
she added, frowning slightly. “That should’ve been a warning sign.”
“Hey, you were blindly in love, remember?” I sighed, my stomach
churning from her mixed bag of guilt and regret. “Were there any signs that
Finch wasn’t exactly forthcoming about who he was?”
“Yeah, there were tiny alarm signals here and there,” Adley said. “I didn’t
always know where he went or what he did. He didn’t like it when I asked
questions. He’d flip out if I so much as looked at his phone screen. But he
was sweet and kind in private, so I let most of that slide.”
I remembered the medication I’d seen Finch take during our only training
session, and I wondered if that played any part in the image he’d built for the
coven.
“He took pills. Do you know what they were or what they did?” I asked.
“Oh, they definitely had a role in all this,” Adley replied with an energetic
nod. “He didn’t tell me what they were, but he took three every day. I stole
one when he wasn’t looking and had it tested. A very potent antipsychotic.”
I went back to the last image I had of Finch, in charmed cuffs, shortly
before he was taken away. “I think it makes sense to assume that the Finch
we saw in chains was the real version of him, not the pill-popped one,” I said.
“I had no idea what was hiding underneath,” Adley continued. “Once he
was captured, they took all his possessions away, the pills included. They’re
in evidence lockup if you need them for anything. The prescribing doctor’s
name will be on the bottle. O’Halloran can give you access.”
“Thank you for that, Adley,” Krieger chimed in. “It might be a good idea
to talk to his psychiatrist back in LA… Oh, but then there’s the
confidentiality issue.”
“It would be unethical, but—” Adley paused and laughed lightly. “I’m the
last person to talk ethics here.”
A moment passed in silence, before Krieger spoke. “You know, Adley, I
did Harley’s second Reading today.”
That got her full attention. “Oh. What were the results?”
“I went deep, this time. She’s not a Mediocre, for starters. She was fitted
with a Dempsey Suppressor as an infant,” Krieger said.
Adley gasped, genuinely delighted from what I sensed. She gave me a
broad smile, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “I’m glad to hear that,
Harley! I knew a second Reading would shed more insight into what you are.
I’m just sorry I didn’t get to be the one to deliver such news, but… I have
crimes to pay for. I deserve my time here.”
“Oh, and Adley, I’ve taken over your research, as you know,” Krieger
added, trying to prevent her from slumping into a sad bubble. “Fantastic work
you’ve done, so far. I have a few questions, though, if you don’t mind. There
are some notes that don’t make much sense to me. Perhaps you can shed
some light.”
“Of course, Doctor. I’m here and happy to assist with whatever you
need,” she replied, smiling. “I was never an enemy of the coven, and I will
continue to help however I can, even from my little cell.” She then looked at
me. “Will you go see Finch anytime soon?”
I’d thought about it, sure, but I hadn’t decided yet. “I want to, yes,” I said.
“Probably soon, but I’m not sure when.”
“Well, when you do go see him, can you please tell him I love him?” she
asked. “I just want him to know that.”
My heart ached with sadness and longing—all Adley’s. Even after what
had happened, she still loved him. Unbelievable.
“Why, though?” I asked. “He lied to your face, for years. He didn’t even
give a damn about you while you both testified in front of the California
Mage Council. Why would you want me to tell him that?”
Adley smiled, wiping a solitary tear from her eye.
“You wouldn’t understand. I was with Finch for more than two years,
Harley. I know he didn’t fake all aspects of our relationship. He couldn’t
have,” she said, her voice shaky. “I know there’s a part of him that loves me
back. I know it. Finch’s mind was poisoned by his mother.”
“That doesn’t change what he did, Adley,” I said.
“No, of course it doesn’t! But you all need to understand something. I
know Finch. He’s a fundamentally good person. I never would’ve stayed with
him otherwise. I might have been blinded by love, but even I have my limits.
In his day-to-day behavior, Finch was wonderful. He had lapses and dark
times, which I’m sure were connected to his mother, but other than that, I’m
telling you, he’s a good soul. He was radicalized by Katherine. I’m willing to
bet my life on it!”
Krieger hummed slowly, wearing a pensive expression. “You think he
could be swayed back to a socially adjusted, non-criminal individual.”
“Yes, yes, I do!” Adley replied.
“He killed people, Adley. All he has to look forward to is Purgatory for
life,” I said.
She truly believed what she was telling us. Whether it was true or not,
however, remained to be seen. Though, I didn’t exclude the possibility that
Finch had been manipulated by his mother. That, in and of itself, made me
wonder whether she could have done the same to my father…
“True. But that doesn’t mean you can’t get him to help you,” Adley
replied, smiling. “You see, there’s a soft side of him that you can reach. Just
tell him I love him. He needs to know that he is still loved, Harley. I don’t
know if Katherine has any way of reaching him, but I do know that love can
be a powerful light in the darkness.”
“I’ll tell him,” I conceded. “I don’t think it’ll do much, but I’ll tell him in
return for your help today.”
“Thank you, Harley.” Adley sighed, clearly relieved and almost serene.
“I need to go now,” I said and gave Krieger a polite nod. “I’ll let you talk
to Adley about your work. I’m due to meet with Wade and the others.”
“Be careful out there,” Krieger replied.
I waved them both goodbye before knocking on the door. O’Halloran let
me out with a raised eyebrow.
“Are you okay, Merlin?” he asked.
“Yes, sir!”
I wasn’t. My heart was heavy. My soul was riddled with emotions that
weren’t mine. My mind was loaded with billions of thoughts and worst-case
scenarios. I wasn’t okay at all. But I was determined to push through and
bring the Ryder twins and Katherine Shipton to an end. I’d had enough of this
nonsense.
“Good. I’ll see you in training tomorrow, then!” O’Halloran said,
grinning.
“Wait… What do you mean?”
“Well, Nomura says you need a trainer for your Esprit. I’m here to oblige,
Red. Six am, sharp and early in Training Hall C. Don’t be late!” he barked
with his usual grumpy snap.
I chuckled. “Yes, sir!”
Sure, I had a Suppressor holding me back. But I could still learn to
efficiently control my powers and get the most out of them, given the
circumstances. An Esprit amplified what my Chaos could give. Until Krieger
could get that thing out of me, I had my Esprit to rely on. I was training to
cast magic without it, too, but I’d already made my soul connection to the
object. I knew that, if push came to shove, and even without much exercise,
my Esprit could still come through for me.
 NINETEEN

Harley

he Lee family was fairly easy to handle, even though the human parents
T had to deal with the news that their twelve-year-old adopted son, Min-Ho,
was a magical. He’d only just begun to manifest his Herculean and Earth
abilities. His mom and dad had suspected that he was different, given how
ridiculously fast and strong he was for a little boy.
At first, they were taken aback, giving Min-Ho a bit of a scare. As a
foster kid, he’d already been moved through several homes and was likely
hoping that this might be his forever family. Wade let me do most of the
talking with his parents. In the end, they were proud and considered
themselves blessed to have gotten such an incredible child.
There were, of course, serious concerns regarding the Lee family. We
found a Ryder twins card in the hallway, but, just like with the Cranstons,
neither Min-Ho nor his parents had ever spoken to anyone named Emily and
Emmett Ryder, or anyone claiming to be from the San Diego Coven. They
only had the occasional visit from Social Services, but that was standard
practice, due to the adoption laws in California.
Santana placed charms in every room of the house and left one in the
family car for good measure. Wade got the parents to agree to bring Min-Ho
to the coven every day, moving him from the human school to our custom-
tailored courses and training for young magicals.
We left them in good spirits but warned them to stay away from anyone
they couldn’t verify as actual members of the San Diego Coven, and Wade
left them his card in case of emergency.
As we drove to the Hamms’, the next family on our list, I had a more
positive vibe. I felt as though we were off to a good start to the day. I’d
learned that I wasn’t a Mediocre, and I’d also spoken to Adley. The Lees
seemed safe, for the time being, and other charms from the previous families
we’d dealt with hadn’t gone off either.
“Are you crazy?” Wade blurted as he pulled the Jeep up the Hamms’
driveway.
I’d just told him I wanted to talk to Finch, since my conversation with
Adley had given me potential leads about Katherine Shipton to follow up on.
“I’m perfectly sane, thank you,” I replied. “I don’t get why it’s a big deal!
I need to talk to him. I need to find out more about Katherine Shipton, and
he’s the only one who can tell us.”
“Don’t you think they’ve tried already?” Wade said, getting out of the
car.
Santana and Raffe were quiet, but I could feel their concern and
amusement. Wade and I had a knack for entertaining them with our back-
and-forths.
“Maybe he’ll talk to me. We’re family.” I chuckled, but Wade didn’t find
it funny. “It’s worth a shot!”
“Harley, Purgatory is a dark and dreary hellhole. They have ways to make
people talk in that place, and trust me, none of them involve asking nicely.
You’re not going. It would be useless,” Wade insisted.
Raffe cleared his throat. “She does make a point. She could play the
family card,” he murmured.
Wade gave him an outraged look. “Et tu, Brute?!”
“Well, if what Adley said is true, and there is a part of him that’s not
entirely evil, a blood tie might work,” Raffe replied with an innocent shrug.
“I’m confident I can at least try to reason with him. I’ll bet it’s lonely in
that cell,” I added. “Wade, seriously, use your investigative brain. Finch is a
viable lead. We could try and turn him against Katherine. If the Ryders are
working with her, and if we take them down, it’ll give me something to show
Finch that, you know, we’re not to be messed with. That he’s on the losing
side. Think about it!”
Wade sighed, then shook his head. “We’ll talk about it later. Come on,
we’ve still got work to do,” he muttered.
We reached the front door. Wade knocked twice.
Anna Hamm opened, and my heart instantly broke. She’d been crying,
her eyes puffy and her mascara smeared. Fatigue came off her in waves, and
she was wearing a stained sweatshirt. The poor woman was a broken mess,
filled with anguish, grief, and despair. It tore me apart on the inside.
“Mrs. Hamm, what happened?” Wade asked, frowning.
She wiped her nose with a crumpled tissue, staring at Wade in confusion.
“Who are you? Are you FBI?”
I felt Wade’s elbow nudge me, instantly kicking me into lie-your-ass-off
mode. Based on how quickly we searched through our jacket pockets for the
right fake IDs, we were all on the same page. We were no longer introducing
ourselves as Social Services workers for the Hamms. We were whipping out
the FBI personas.
Wade was the first to flash his badge. We carried four types of ID in our
jackets, at all times—Homeland Security, FBI, Social Services, and the local
PD.
“Special Agent Johnson,” Wade said. “We were told you’re having some
trouble. Mind if we come in?”
“No, please… please, do,” Anna said, then stepped to the side.
We went in, and I immediately caught the frayed emotions of the father,
Frank Hamm, who was in the living room. He, too, had been crying and was
genuinely distraught. I saw the photos on the mantelpiece—the Hamms with
Marjorie Phillips, a seventeen-year-old they’d adopted a year back. I
skimmed through their file to get as much information as possible before
handing the folder over to Wade.
We had to be quick in our answers, so as not to give the Hamms any
impression that we didn’t know what we were doing. Professionalism was
key here, even when we were lying through our teeth.
“Thank you for coming,” Anna said as she motioned for us to step into
the living room, where she joined us. “Police sent you over, right?”
“They told us to come, yes, but they didn’t give us details,” Wade replied.
“Would you mind walking us through what happened from beginning to
end?”
Anna took several deep breaths and picked up a photo album from the
bookshelf. She showed it to Wade. Frank sat down, his hands trembling.
They were both worried sick. Something terrible had happened here.
“That’s Marjorie Phillips,” Anna said, pointing at one of the photos.
“She’s an only child. Her father disappeared before she was born, and her
mother killed herself when Marjorie was five. She’s been in the foster system
ever since.”
“She’s a good girl,” Frank added, his voice breaking. “She wouldn’t…
She wouldn’t have…”
“We took her in about a year ago,” Anna continued, flipping through the
photo album pages for Wade to see them as a family. I stood next to him,
catching glimpses of Marjorie, a curly redhead with bright green eyes and a
splash of freckles. “She warmed up to us, albeit gradually. It took a while to
get her out of her shell, I suppose.”
“Let me guess, the foster system wasn’t easy on her,” I replied, giving her
a sympathetic smile.
Anna nodded. “She had trouble with some of the previous families, but
she never said why. I wasn’t blind, though. I saw the scars. I saw how she
flinched whenever Frank got close… She’d been through some terrible
things, and Frank and I made it our mission to show Marjorie that life didn’t
have to be that way for her.”
I looked at Frank, whose eyes were tearing up again. “So, what happened,
Mrs. Hamm?” I asked.
“A couple of nights ago she went missing,” Anna said. “She was
supposed to be home at six, but she never came back from school. Her phone
is off. I left her dozens of texts and voicemails. We put up missing posters,
we’ve alerted the police. They said they were going to hand the case over to
the FBI because they didn’t have enough resources in the city for a wide
radius search.”
“Marjorie is missing,” I breathed the dreadful conclusion. I glanced at
Santana and Raffe.
Santana had brought her duffel bag, filled with small leather charms.
“Mrs. Hamm, do you mind if my colleague and I have a look through the
house, including Marjorie’s room?”
“Yeah, sure,” Anna replied, and shifted her focus back to Wade and me,
while Santana and Raffe disappeared upstairs. “She wouldn’t have left on her
own.”
“The cops said she might’ve run away. That’s nonsense,” Frank said,
shaking his head.
“You don’t think there’s any possibility of that?” Wade asked.
“Absolutely not!” Anna blurted. “Just last week she was telling us about
how happy and relieved she was to be living with us. She was safe here. She
had nowhere else to go.”
One of the photos drew my attention. It showed Marjorie on the beach
wearing a dark green hoodie, her red curls fluffed up by the breeze. She was
laughing. Her eyes twinkled in the sunset. I gently pulled the photo out of the
album and inhaled sharply when my fingers touched it.
Fear… Blood-freezing dread… So much emotional pain…
I didn’t understand how it was possible for me to get a feel for someone
from a photo like that, but I was certain that these were all Marjorie’s
feelings. The horror was real. The sheer terror cut through me like a knife.
She’d felt so sorry to leave the Hamms behind.
Marjorie had, indeed, run away, but she hadn’t made that choice easily.
Something had driven her out of this safe haven.
I decided to follow my Empath instinct and this weird little glitch with the
photograph. “Mrs. Hamm, do you know if Marjorie had any enemies?
Anyone she didn’t get along with, maybe?”
Anna thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. “She had a few
friends but kept mostly to herself. She’s an artist, you see. She likes being
alone. When she paints, it’s just her and the canvas, you know? She didn’t
stir any trouble, nothing like that, no.”
“So, there were no threats made by anyone toward her, directly or
indirectly,” Wade replied.
Anna shook her head again. “No, definitely not.”
“Do you remember anything out of the ordinary that happened in the past
week?” I asked. “Anything strange? Anything at all?”
Frank and Anna looked at each other, then back at me.
“Last Sunday we were having dinner, and she was telling us how happy
she was,” Frank said. “That’s when we both knew that Marjorie felt safe
here. It was like a ‘Mission Accomplished!’ kind of moment for us.”
“Monday was fine. Frank took her to the art supply shop. Gosh, she was
beaming when they came back,” Anna added, smiling. “Frank got her pastel
chalk, and she was eager to try it out. Then, Tuesday, all okay, she got home
on time, had a school friend over for homework help. She was in bed by
midnight.”
“Then, Wednesday we had a Social Services visit after school,” Frank
murmured.
That rang an alarm bell in my head. “Social Services?”
“Yes. Part of the first two years after adoption. They come by every
month to check on us, make sure we’re okay, that Marjorie is fitting in. Stuff
like that,” Anna explained.
“Okay, and how did the visit go?” Wade asked.
We were both concerned. We’d already seen a similar pattern. I looked
around, noticing a marble bowl on the mantelpiece next to the framed photos.
Anna’s brow furrowed as she and Frank exchanged glances once more. They
were both realizing something they hadn’t noticed before.
“The people were very nice. Two men in their late forties… Decent type,
nice suits, soft voices. They gave us their card—it’s in that bowl over there,”
Anna said, pointing at the marble piece I’d been eyeing already. “They were
twins, which I found interesting.”
My stomach dropped as I approached the mantelpiece and saw the
business card sticking out from between several knickknacks.
“What were their names?” Wade pressed.
“John and Steven Ryder,” Anna said.
I picked the card up and showed it to Wade. The Ryder twins had been
here. We were both chilled to the bone over this. What was really confusing
to me was their choice of first names, which seemed to vary from one family
to the next, along with their age and appearance, and now, even gender. Was
this deliberate, just to mess with us?
“What did they do and say?” Wade asked. “I need you to remember very
carefully, Mrs. Hamm. It’s important that we get as many details as
possible.”
“Well, they asked the usual questions. We go through this with Social
Services every month, so there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary there.”
Anna sighed, getting frustrated.
Frank, on the other hand, was on to something. “Remember they wanted
to talk to Marjorie in private?”
“Yeah, but they do that every month, honey,” Anna replied.
“Something was different this time,” Frank insisted, his brow furrowed.
“After they talked, and Marjorie came back with them in the kitchen, she
seemed… different. We were supposed to sit down for dinner once they were
gone, but Marge said she wasn’t hungry anymore and went to her room.”
Wade and I looked at each other. They must’ve said something to her.
What if we were looking at another Kenneth Willow scenario here? My
stomach shrank into an uncomfortable little ball as I thought of the
implications.
“What about the following days?” I asked.
“Oh, God. Frank, you’re right,” Anna croaked. “She was different after
that. Thursday came, and Marjorie barely ate anything for breakfast. She
wasn’t too chatty in the evening, but she blamed it on a headache.”
“Then Friday… She didn’t come back from school. No one saw her leave
school, either,” Frank continued.
“Did she go to classes?” Wade replied.
“Yeah. All of them. Her teachers confirmed. Police checked CCTV, too.
It’s like she vanished into thin air. She was last seen in the hallway with the
rest of the kids as they left the school. But there was no sign of her outside,”
Anna explained.
“And you haven’t heard from her since,” Wade concluded.
“Nothing. Her phone is off, so they can’t trace it,” Anna said, rubbing her
face in frustration.
A sense of urgency took over, my heart skipping beats like a dog at an
obstacle race track.
“Mrs. Hamm, can you describe more what the Ryders looked like, if you
remember?” I asked. Wade took out a small notepad and a pen.
“Um. You could tell they were twins. Identical features. Round faces,
blue eyes, light blond hair. Both about 5’9”. Gray suits, white shirts. Nothing
out of the ordinary. Why? Do you think they had something to do with our
Marge’s disappearance?” Anna asked.
“No, no. Just gathering details, like I said. Everything helps at this point,”
Wade answered quickly. Given their human status, I understood that there
was no point in giving them any magical-related information at this point in
time.
Still surprised by the photograph’s effect on my Empathic senses, I
decided to explore this new avenue. “Mrs. Hamm, I’ll be right back. I need to
have a look at your daughter’s room.” I left the living room and rushed
upstairs.
 Raffe was just coming down.
“Anything?” I whispered.
He nodded. “Yeah. I’ll brief you all outside. Don’t want the Hamms
hearing this,” he said, then went downstairs and joined Wade and Marjorie’s
parents.
I found Santana in Marjorie’s room, stuffing one of the charm bags under
her bed. She got up, then exhaled sharply. “I had my Orishas check the place
out. Something weird happened here, Harley,” she murmured.
“Define weird, because the Ryders were here. This time, however, they
interacted with both the human parents and the magical kid on her own,” I
replied.
Santana stilled, her eyes wide. “Crap. Like with Kenneth Willow’s
family.”
I nodded. “They came on Wednesday evening. By Friday afternoon,
Marjorie was missing,” I said. “Something tells me she ran away, but not to
join the Ryders,” I added, showing her the picture I’d brought up with me.
“The weirdest thing happened. I don’t know how else to explain it, but I can
feel Marjorie’s emotions just by touching this photo.”
Santana blinked several times. “That’s not weird. Some good Empaths do
that.”
“Oh. I didn’t remember reading that anywhere.”
“It’s rare. It’s in some footnote, somewhere in Ickes’s manuals,” Santana
replied. “So, what did you pick up?”
“Dread, Santana. Fear like nothing I’ve sensed before. Well, except
maybe the time I had gargoyles trying to eat me.”
“You think she ran to get away from the Ryders?” Santana asked.
I moved around the room, trying to get a feel for the place. It was oozing
similar emotions to the photograph. Marjorie was afraid—not just for her life,
but for the Hamms’, too.
“I’m almost positive, but obviously I won’t know for sure until we find
her and talk to her,” I said. “What did your Orishas pick up?”
“Pretty much the same as you,” Santana said. “Some were Empaths when
they were alive, and they still have the gift, I guess. Something scared
Marjorie so badly that she had to get out.”
I nodded, taking a moment to recall the differences between Santana’s
and Tatyana’s abilities as I moved to the window. Santana’s Orishas were
former spirits of magicals that had transcended to a higher level, maintaining
their glowing, shapeless forms. She didn’t talk to them, since the exchange of
information was done on a different level, well beyond our comprehension.
She simply knew what they picked up, and she’d spent years forming a
permanent relationship with these entities. Tatyana, on the other hand, was a
mere communicator with spirits, magical or human. The more powerful ones
were able to possess her, lending her their abilities. But her interactions were
always passing, never as permanent or as deep as Santana’s connection to her
Orishas.
I liked them both, because they offered different insights and assistance. I
stopped by the window, running my fingers over a curtain bow.
Movement in the backyard caught my eye. I froze, unsure of what I was
seeing. Someone was hiding behind a sturdy palm tree, curiously watching
me as I stood by the window. I narrowed my eyes and stifled a yelp when I
recognized him: Jacob! The Smiths’ new foster kid.
“You okay?” Santana asked.
“Uh, y-yes,” I replied, giving her a quick glance. “Yeah, I just…” I
shifted my focus back to the garden.
Jacob was gone.
“I… I thought I saw something,” I said.
Where did he go?
Or did I just imagine it?
I remained staring out the window for another long moment, but when
Jacob didn’t appear again, I heaved a sigh and turned away from the window.
“Anyway, something nefarious definitely went down here,” I murmured.
The vision of Jacob nagged me, and I decided to stop by the Smiths’
place again today. Whether I’d imagined it or not, it didn’t hurt to check in on
the Smiths and see what he was up to. I could easily play the part of the
concerned foster sibling—which I technically was, anyway. My instinct was
telling me something… though I wasn’t sure what.

We left the Hamms with the assurance that we’d do everything in our power
to find Marjorie. Wade gave them his card, and as soon as we were outside,
he called the coven.
“Send a complete cleanup crew to the Hamms’ place. They’re human
parents, and the kid has gone missing,” he said. “Yes, wipe their memories,
too. It’s in their best interests at this point. I’ll send you some details about
the girl. The Ryder twins are involved… Yeah, put out an APB on her.
Marjorie Phillips. Aha. Cool, thank you.”
After he hung up, we stopped by the Jeep to catch up.
“So, remember how the djinn picks up on the energy of something that
happened in a place?” Raffe asked, looking at Wade. “Any kind of tragedy or
difficult, painful decision. Anything that stirred grief and suffering, in
general.”
“Uh-huh,” Wade replied, as Raffe had his full attention.
I had no clue what they were talking about. “What djinn?” I asked.
Raffe smiled. “I’ll explain at some point, I promise. This whole Ryder
twins issue is more important and demands our full attention,” he said. I
understood then that the djinn had something to do with his magical abilities,
and I figured it was better not to pursue this now. He was right. We had
bigger fish to fry. “Something bad happened in that house. Something made
Marjorie leave.”
“And it wasn’t an easy decision,” I replied, corroborating his and
Santana’s findings. “We’re all picking up on the same thing here, albeit
differently. I’m getting mine directly from a photo of her. The feelings are so
dark, so intense… It’s mind-boggling.”
“You’re reading from a picture now?” Wade asked, raising an eyebrow.
He was quite impressed.
I shrugged. “Yeah… I don’t know why it’s happening with Marjorie, but
it doesn’t matter. Point is, she was scared out of her mind, Wade.”
“The Ryders probably freaked her out,” Santana replied.
“Another thing bothers me,” I said. “The Ryders’ description. It doesn’t
match the photo we have, or what the other parents said.”
Wade gave me an appreciative nod. “You’re right. The descriptions don’t
match. The names are different from one family to another, too. These aren’t
different people. These are different personas altogether.”
“Oh, crap,” Santana gasped.
“Shapeshifters,” Raffe concluded.
Wade agreed. Shivers ran through me, making me tremble. I had
flashbacks of Finch shifting into Clara Fairmont, the bubblegum blonde witch
that Wade had briefly dated. I let out a frustrated groan.
 “Not again,” I grumbled.
“It makes sense, if you think about it,” Wade said. “Different people,
similar scenarios. I wouldn’t be surprised. I’ll bet they’re both Shapeshifters.”
“It wasn’t in their file,” Santana replied.
Wade shrugged. “This wouldn’t be the first or the last time that magicals
would go to great lengths to conceal their Shapeshifting abilities after a
Reading, and most covens accommodate that request. You know how our
people tend to frown upon Shapeshifters in general. It’s a terrible stigma to
have, and centuries of progress haven’t changed that mindset. People still
don’t trust them.”
“No offense, but with the likes of Finch and the Ryders, I’m not
surprised.” I sighed, crossing my arms and leaning against the Jeep.
“The Ryders are doing things a little differently, though. It’s like they’re
teasing us, leaving enough room for us to connect the dots and realize they’re
around here somewhere, prowling,” Santana said. “It’s like they want us to
know it’s them, and that they’re Shapeshifters. At least, that’s how I see it.
Either way, Shapeshifters are always such a pain.”
“Some are difficult to detect, too,” Wade explained. “A Reading can miss
the ability, if it’s carried out by a less capable physician, though that’s
extremely rare. I don’t know why, exactly, but Krieger can better explain that
part. Point is, Shapeshifters aren’t all that common, and most of them manage
to keep their ability a secret. Some, as clearly demonstrated by Finch and the
Ryders so far, do bad things. We have to find them.”
“Oh, yeah. It’ll be a breeze to find two people who can basically turn into
anyone.” I chuckled bitterly.
Raffe grinned. “There may be something about them that would work in
our favor,” he said. “Shifting is a very painful and complex process—the first
time around, when there’s a new persona to… put on. If they’re shifting into
personas they’ve done before, it’s not as bad. Therefore, it would make sense
that they use a limited number of identities they’ve morphed into before.”
Santana narrowed her eyes at him, as if processing the information. “So,
we’d need to keep an eye on the descriptions that the parents give us, to spot
a repeat identity.”
“Exactly. Like I said, it hurts like hell to shift into someone new, but once
the magical’s body memorizes that identity, it gets easier. It makes sense for
them to use two, maybe three personas at most, for whatever it is they’re
trying to do,” Raffe replied. “On top of their real appearance, that is.”
“I’ll have Astrid put all the descriptions into the system and widen the
search for them, then,” Wade said, swiping through his phone. “The one
thing we know for sure is that they scared Marjorie into leaving, though I
doubt that was their intention. I think she didn’t want to put her parents in
any danger, figuring she was better off running away.”
“That’s why you want the cleanup team to wipe the Hamms’ memories,”
I mumbled, putting two and two together.
“Yeah. If anything goes wrong with Marjorie, at least they won’t suffer
over her loss. I know you might think it’s inhumane or whatever, but—”
“No. I agree. Given the circumstances, it’s for the best,” I said to Wade.
“But hold on, I get deleting the parents’ memories, but what about everybody
else that Marjorie knew since the adoption?”
Raffe chuckled. “The cleanup crew is very good at what they do, don’t
worry.”
I was officially curious.
Santana sucked in a breath and grabbed her side, hissing from pain. It
burned through me, too, but it wasn’t as bad as it was for her.
“What’s wrong?” Wade asked.
“Ah…” Santana struggled to stand up straight for a moment. Once she
regained her composure, she gave us an alarmed look. “The Cranstons.
Something set off their charms. Something happened.”
An icy wave hit me hard as I realized the horrible truth. Our worst-case
scenarios were starting to come true.
 TWENTY

Harley

ade drove like the devil, darting down the streets and taking sharp turns,
W slipping between lanes and cars, as we rushed to the Cranstons’ place.
As soon as the Jeep screeched to a halt outside, I knew the worst had
happened.
The front door was open, and I wasn’t getting any emotions from inside
the house.
The silence was almost unbearable.
Little Micah…
We jumped out of the car and raced inside. My heart stopped for a
moment, dread clutching my throat. The hallway side table was knocked
over. Papers and shoes were scattered across the floor. Jackets and hats, too.
The wall mirror was down, broken into hundreds of shards.
“Weren’t there supposed to be alarm charms and traps in place in here?” I
whispered.
“Yes. I don’t think they worked as intended,” Wade replied.
His rings lit up bright orange, ready to hit in case of an attack. He moved
forward, carefully stepping over the items on the floor. This was definitely a
crime scene, and we needed to touch it as little as possible, for the purpose of
a proper investigation.
Wade cursed under his breath when he saw the living room. Santana,
Raffe, and I reached him. We all froze.
 Horror cut my breath off. I saw Susan and Larry lying on the floor, in the
middle of the living room. They were both dead, staring at the ceiling with
eyes wide open—lifeless and glassy. Their throats had been slit. Blood had
pooled around their heads. Their skin was paler than usual, but rigor mortis
had yet to properly set in, judging by the color of their lips.
“Oh, God,” I gasped.
Wade went in and checked the bodies. He whispered a spell as he moved
his hand over Susan and Larry. His rings lit up white as he took a deep breath
and closed his eyes for a moment.
“They’ve been dead for ten, fifteen minutes, tops,” he said. “They bled
out.”
“Micah!” I shouted, praying to Chaos itself to hear him or see him alive.
“Micah! Can you hear me? It’s Harley! MICAH!”
Santana squeezed my shoulder. “He’s not here, querida,” she murmured,
wearing a pained look on her face. “Neither is the Orisha I left with him.”
I broke into a cold sweat as I looked around the room. There had been a
violent fight here. The coffee table was knocked over. Most of the books
from the shelves were on the floor. Coffee had been spilled on the carpet, the
cups smashed into pieces. The framed photographs were down, the glass
broken and smoke swirling from beneath.
“What… What the hell?” I croaked, pointing at one of the images.
The photograph showed Susan and Larry, holding a little boy between
them—Micah, only his face had been burned out. The others were the same.
Everywhere I looked, Micah’s face had been taken out with fire.
Santana came by my side. “That’s not good,” she said. “That’s a very
ugly and dark spell.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“Obliviscaris in Perpetuum,” Wade breathed as he joined us. “It’s a
forbidden curse. It rips a person out of everything. Photos, clothes,
memories… anything that Micah has touched or left a trace on.” He pointed
at various black spots in the room. “Every strand of hair or fragment of skin
he’s left behind… it’s all burned out of existence.”
“Why… Why would they do that?” I replied, trying to wrap my head
around the purpose of such a heinous act.
“They don’t want us to use a tracer spell to find him,” Raffe concluded.
“The Ryders took him. I know it in my bones.”
 “They don’t want us to—” I paused, then took a deep breath, trying to
keep myself calm. My palms were itching. My blood was boiling. “What do
we do?”
“I’ll check outside,” Raffe said.
He left us there, with the lifeless bodies of Susan and Larry Cranston,
who had adopted little Micah, hoping to give him the best family possible.
The cruelty of what the Ryders had done was beyond monstrous.
“My Orisha is gone,” Santana repeated, frowning. “That’s not normal. I
can’t feel her anymore. I didn’t feel anything earlier, either. Whatever magic
the twins are using, it overrode all my charms…” The color drained from her
face. “I think they killed my Orisha!”
Wade was stunned. I was even more confused.
“Santana, that’s some incredibly dark and evil magic the Ryders are
conjuring,” Wade said. “That’s worth a life sentence in Purgatory.”
“They killed my Orisha!” Santana replied, tearing up. “She would’ve
fought them. She never would’ve allowed them to take the kid! They killed
her!”
I felt her pain, and it was more than I could take, on top of my own.
“Santana, check the boy’s room, please,” Wade said, trying to keep her
focused. “Take photos, imprints, anything you can. I’ll handle this room and
call a cleanup crew.”
She nodded slowly and went upstairs. I had to get out of the room, so I
went around the ground floor to check the rest of the place out. I hadn’t
spotted them at first, but there were charcoal smudges all over the place, even
in the hallway.
The kitchen was a mess. The fight had spread throughout the house, from
what I could tell. There were broken dishes and pots everywhere, food
splattered over the floor—mac and cheese, pieces of bread, mashed
potatoes… They were preparing Sunday lunch when the attack happened.
It was vicious. It took me a while to reconstruct the entire scene, but I
managed to get all the clues together. Outside, Raffe was looking around,
checking every corner of the backyard. We briefly looked at each other, and I
could feel the confusing mix of grief, sadness, and excitement coming from
him.
I went back into the living room, measuring my breaths as I carefully
walked along the edges of the carpet. “The door wasn’t broken, and there was
no sign of magical tampering on it,” I said.
“They likely knew them,” Wade replied.
“Assuming the Ryders are Shapeshifters, they must’ve somehow adopted
the personas of people that the Cranstons were familiar with, maybe even
Social Services. They came in, then all hell broke loose. The parents tried to
fight them off. From what I saw in the kitchen, my guess is that Micah made
it all the way there.”
“Susan and Larry went down fast,” Wade said. “There are barely any
defensive wounds. I’m guessing by this time they’d already disabled all the
charms and traps.”
“Which means they were left with apprehending Micah—”
“Who didn’t go down easy. I guess he employed all his abilities against
them,” Wade continued my line of reasoning.
“Which, again, explains the mess in the kitchen.”
Santana came down, tears streaming down her cheeks. It took her a while
to say something.
“The bedroom is black. Everything was burned to a crisp,” she managed,
her voice shaky. “But it was controlled, part of the spell.”
“They wanted us to find all of this. Otherwise, they would’ve just burned
the whole place down for good measure,” Raffe added, coming back in.
“They wanted us to find the bodies, the burned spots, everything.”
“But why?” I asked hoarsely. “To mess with us?”
Every single thing we’d discovered about the Ryders pointed them out as
extreme psychopaths, the most vicious magicals I’d encountered so far, for
sure. They made Finch look like a Boy Scout. He didn’t get his hands dirty—
he let the gargoyles do the dirty work for him. The Ryders got up close and
personal.
I resisted the urge to puke, though I could feel my coffee and half a bagel
struggling to come back up. A few deeper breaths in, and I got it under
control, but I couldn’t shake the chills that had settled in my bones.
“To make us aware of what they can do. To make us feel helpless,” Wade
replied. “They want us to understand that they can stop us from tracing the
people they take. They want us to see the damage they can do.”
“They want us to be afraid of them,” Santana murmured.
“Well, screw that!” I snapped. I didn’t let Finch get to me. I had no
intention of letting these bastards break my morale, either. This entire scene
made me rage with the fire of exacting revenge, but not fear. No, the Ryders
made me furious, not scared. “We’re going to find them, and we’re going to
put them in Purgatory. And I hope, I really hope they put up a fight, because
then I can just light them up and watch them burn!” I shouted.
The air felt heavy as Wade, Santana, and Raffe stared at me, speechless
and befuddled. I thought about what I’d just said, realizing it may have come
across as extreme. My cheeks burned.
“Okay, scratch the last part,” I muttered.
“No, no, leave it in. I’m with you there,” Santana replied. “They killed
one of my Orishas. They’re not getting away with this.”
At least we were on the same page, as I was getting a similar vibe from
Raffe and Wade—Raffe’s was particularly interesting, since, despite his calm
demeanor, there was a thirst for blood bubbling beneath the surface. It was a
tad creepy, but I was in no position to judge.
I’d just expressed interest in burning two magicals alive.
Susan and Larry Cranston didn’t deserve this. I was determined to get
justice for them, by any means possible. Most importantly, I had to save
Micah. He was an innocent child. All he ever wanted was a home and a
family, and the Ryders had taken that away from him.
As a foster kid myself, I took this personally.

Wade called a cleanup crew to the Cranstons’ place and put out another ABP
on Micah. The fixers were going to make it look like a home invasion gone
wrong, torching parts of the place and turning the sprinkler system on. I
didn’t want to know the rest of the details, as I was still wrestling with my
undigested coffee and bagel.
We couldn’t stop doing our jobs. We had to keep our emotions in check
and go through the rest of the list. The other families were okay, though. The
Ryders had left cards there, as well, and in one case with magical parents,
they’d pretended to be from the San Diego Coven, trying to convince a
couple to send their kid over.
I tried to understand why they’d gone to such lengths to get parents to
send their children to the coven, until a possible answer hit me. In addition to
the fact that the Ryders didn’t want to risk conflict with magical parents or
early exposure by killing them and taking the kids, they might also want them
to essentially give up on their children. They might want the chicks out of the
nest, so they could snatch them. So the parents would feel miserable for
letting them go and even blame the coven for their disappearance. That would
be devious, indeed… But they didn’t succeed, and I wound up walking out of
the last house on our list with a half-smile on my face.
I breathed a sigh of relief as we reached the Jeep.
My heart hurt, but I had to keep going. Santana rigged all the homes with
additional and more potent charms, hoping they might at least alert us in case
the Ryders showed up. Wade called Alton, demanding additional security
details on each family. The Ryders were bound to strike again, though we
weren’t sure when. Fortunately, Alton was totally on board with that.
“We should round up all the families we still have and bring them back to
the coven,” I said out loud while Wade was still on the line with Alton. “We
shouldn’t leave them out here where the Ryder twins can get them!”
Alton said something to Wade, but I couldn’t hear it. Once he hung up,
however, I felt his anger boiling through me.
“We can’t. All we can do is get security magicals to watch over them
until further notice,” Wade said.
“Why not?!” I asked, my voice getting louder.
“Because the California Mage Council wants us to see this through!
Because they ordered us to keep the families where they are and wait for the
Ryders to strike again. They want them caught,” Wade snapped.
“What if the families want to come to the coven for protection?” I asked.
He shook his head. “We’ll assure them that it’s not necessary.”
“But that’s insane!” I croaked. “They’ll be sitting ducks…”
“They’ve got charms and traps set up. There are security magicals on
their way out to each of the families on our list,” Wade said. “Alton wouldn’t
tell me more, but these are the orders, and we are to follow them. Period!”

On our way back to the coven, we didn’t speak much. There wasn’t much to
say, really. What happened with the Cranstons felt like a phenomenal failure.
The more time that passed, the worse I felt. I’d insisted that Micah stay with
his parents. And now, his parents were dead, and Micah was missing.
I looked at Wade. He was livid, but he held it all in beneath a straight
face. Whenever his eyes found mine, rage blared through him and echoed in
me. That just made me feel even more responsible. I didn’t know what to say.
If I could go back and undo yesterday’s decisions, Micah would’ve been safe,
with us, in the coven. Susan and Larry would still be alive.
And I hated that we couldn’t even round up the rest of the families and
take them to safety. But there was nothing I could do about that now.
“Can you drop me off at St. Clair’s?” I asked, my voice barely audible.
“Why?” Wade asked, his tone clipped.
It felt like a punch in the gut. He was so angry with me.
“I need to do something,” I replied.
“Harley, given what we’re dealing with right now, a little more
transparency would be appreciated,” he replied.
God, I feel so horrible.
“I just need to be alone,” I conceded, tears streaming down my cheeks. I
caught a glimpse of Santana and Raffe in the rearview mirror. They were just
as broken as I was, but they weren’t experiencing the crippling guilt that was
building up inside me. No, that cancerous darkness was all mine and mine
alone to bear. And I deserved it. “I just need to be alone. I’ll take a cab back.”
The Jeep came to a rough halt, a couple blocks before St. Clair’s. Wade
gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white. Again, he stared ahead, not
looking at me.
“Thanks,” I murmured. “I won’t be long.”
“Whatever,” he replied coldly.
The frustration and pain were too much to handle. I got out and slammed
the car door. Santana and Raffe watched me as the Jeep roared back into
traffic. A few seconds later, I was all by myself in the middle of a busy
sidewalk on a Sunday afternoon.
The sun was out. The weather was perfect.
And I felt like crap.
 TWENTY-ONE

Harley

stood there, in the middle of the street, unable to move or think for a while.
I Tears rolled down my cheeks as I went back over everything that had
happened. Hindsight was always great, but I didn’t have the ability or the
luxury to turn back time. I wondered if any magical could do that. I probably
would’ve heard about it.
I could only go forward from this point. However, I needed to clear my
head first. Most importantly, I needed to be around people who weren’t
involved in any of this. I often thought of the Smiths’ place as a refuge, and
this certainly felt like the right time to pay them another visit.
Besides, I needed to see what Jacob was up to, and confirm whether I
had, in fact, spotted him earlier at the Hamms’ house.
I stopped by St. Clair’s and picked up some sweet and savory pastries in a
small gift basket, then made my way to the Smiths’. I composed myself as I
walked up the narrow pathway leading to the front door. I did my best to
make sure that my expression reflected the weather, not my emotions.
The door opened, and Mrs. Smith greeted me with a warm smile.
“Sweetie! What a joy to see you again so soon!” she exclaimed, before
she noticed the pastry basket and chuckled. “Do you intend to bribe me for
anything?”
“Hah, no… I just had the rest of the day off, and I wanted to spend it with
people I love,” I replied, smiling.
 “Oh, honey,” she murmured. She took the basket from my hand and used
one arm to hug me. I sank my face in her soft hair, welcoming the scent of
freesia. Still using the same fabric softener.
We went inside, to find Mr. Smith in the living room, flipping channels
on the TV.
“Harley!” he said, beaming at me. “You’re making our weekend even
better!”
“Hey,” I replied, and went over to hug him, awkwardly, bending
downward over the sofa. “How’s your Sunday turning out, so far?”
“Fantastic! I get to watch the game, the missus gets some yummy treats,
from what I can see,” he said, grinning, “and Jacob’s out in the backyard,
fumbling with a project for school.”
“Ah. I was hoping I could talk to him,” I said.
I followed Mrs. Smith into the kitchen and helped her get the pastries out
of the basket and fairly redistributed across several plates. Jacob was outside.
I could see him through the wide kitchen windows. He was trying to build
some kind of device, kneeling under a massive umbrella, with lemonade and
half-eaten sandwiches next to him on a small rattan coffee table. He didn’t
seem to know what he was doing, barely able to clamp down on a couple of
wires, but he was definitely enjoying it—I could feel it in my tummy.
“You’ve come by to spend some time with Jacob, huh?” Mrs. Smith
asked me, smiling.
I nodded. “I see he’s busy, though.”
“Stick around. He needs all the help he can get, and there’s not a single
mechanical engineer in the Smith household to assist him.” She giggled.
“You might be able to save him. And, since you’re here, do you want to have
dinner with us?”
“I’d love that,” I replied, unable to stop myself from smiling.
“I’m making lasagna,” she added with a devilish grin.
Mrs. Smith handed me one of the pastry plates and nodded at Jacob.
“Well, why don’t you go out there and give him a hand? You’ve got your car,
now. I’ll bet you understand what he’s doing over there more than us.”
My car. I missed Daisy like crazy. I hadn’t yet decided what I was going
to do with her. Murray the dirtbag gargoyle had crushed her a month ago, and
I was still recovering from the heartache. Daisy was a heap of mangled metal
at this point, held in storage, but I couldn’t bring myself to take her to the
salvage yard. I didn’t have the courage to buy another car, either. It would’ve
felt like a betrayal to Daisy.
In the meantime, Wade or Santana hauled me around if I needed it. Cabs
were okay, too.
I sighed, brushing aside the sadness of Daisy’s “passing away,” and
shifted my focus back to Mrs. Smith.
“You don’t like leaving him out there on his own? Turning into a
helicopter mom, now?” I forced a laugh.
“No, not at all. I’m just trying to get to know Jacob a little better, and he
doesn’t talk to me much. Maybe he’ll open up to you. I don’t know, I’m just
positive there are things he isn’t telling us, and maybe you can get more out
of him than we can.”
I gave her a warm smile and took the plate out into the backyard. Jacob
turned his head when he heard the sliding door open. He struck me as
nervous. I was making him nervous.
“Hey, Jake, brought you some goodies,” I said. “Mind if I join you?”
“Sure, have a seat,” Jacob replied, keeping his focus on the small device
in front of him.
I did just that, crossing my legs and settling the plate next to the
sandwiches and lemonade.
“St. Clair’s?” he asked, eyeing the pastries for a moment.
“You betcha!” I replied, grinning, then pointed at the device. “What are
you doing there?”
“Oh. It’s an automatic pet feeder,” Jacob said.
“Are you sure?” I asked sarcastically.
I figured he was halfway through with it or something, because to me it
looked like a box with some circuits and gadgets on the inside. I doubted
Mrs. Smith had actually thought that I could help the kid better than them—it
was most likely just an excuse to get me out here with him.
I could at least pretend to help while I asked Jacob some questions,
including whether he’d been near the Hamms’ place or not.
Jacob looked at me, raising an eyebrow and making me laugh. “I’m
kidding, dude,” I said, then pointed at the device again. “Need me to help?”
“Nah. But you can keep me company, if you want,” he replied, his voice
low. “Just don’t tell Mrs. Smith about my cursing. This damn thing’s getting
on my nerves.”
 I chuckled. “When is it due?”
He sighed. “Tomorrow. I always leave the important stuff until the last
minute.”
“Meh. It’s cool. You’ll figure it out. And someone’s dog will be grateful
to you in the end,” I said.
Despite his seemingly jovial attitude, Jacob was definitely on edge. There
was a mixture of fear and guilt burning through me, and it made me think that
I had, indeed, seen him at the Hamms’ house. This irked me.
“That’s cool! So, what do you do for a living again? I think Mrs. Smith
told me, but I forgot,” Jacob asked.
There was something odd here. A pattern I’d been picking up on, lately.
My Empathy varied from one person to another. The magicals, in general,
were a tad more reserved in their emotions—except the few I couldn’t feel at
all. I’d yet to figure that one out. But the humans were so raw, so intense in
their feelings, that sometimes I thought a magical detector wouldn’t even be
needed, if I were to really fine-tune this ability of mine. I kept the idea to
myself but did use it to make an assessment of Jacob. I could feel him, but
not as vibrant as the Smiths. Maybe he was a magical.
“For a living? I’m working for Homeland Security,” I replied.
Jacob was quiet, his concern bubbling beneath the surface as he continued
to fiddle with his pet feeder thingy.
“How are you coming along here, with the Smiths?” I asked, wearing a
soft smile.
Jacob shrugged. “I’m good. Honestly, the Smiths are awesome. They’re
kind and sweet and always looking after me. I hope I get to pay them in kind,
someday.”
I paused, wetting my lips and considering my next question, while I eyed
him closely. Going back to my previous reasoning, the Smiths hadn’t shown
up on Alton’s list, and it certainly wasn’t automatic for every foster kid to be
a magical. Magicals were still rare—perhaps one for every thousand humans
or more. But my gut was telling me that Jacob was special, in a Chaos kind of
way.
“They changed my life for the better,” I said. “I doubt I would’ve been
here today had it not been for them. Have you met Ryann yet?”
He nodded. “Uh-huh. She’s really cool. I think she wants to become
president one day or something.”
 For the second time in the past ten minutes, I was laughing. After
everything that I’d witnessed today, I needed this flicker of innocence in my
life. But time wasn’t on my side. In a moment of “Screw this!”, I took a
gamble. I’d feel better once I blurted it out.
“You know your way around magic, don’t you?”
My question stunned him. He stared at me for a few seconds, gripping his
screwdriver with unnecessary force. His knuckles were white, and beads of
sweat blossomed on his temples.
“What… What do you mean?” he asked, barely breathing.
Panic was rumbling through me like an icy wave. Oh, I’d hit a nerve, for
sure.
“I’m just looking at this pet feeder. It looks like the stuff of magic,” I
said, deciding to drag him along for a suspenseful ride. Not that I was a
sadist, but I did find his emotional discomfort somewhat amusing. It was best
to shock him now, so I could later ease him into the fact that I was a magical,
too.
“It’s not. It’s just science. Mechanics. Basic principles of physics,” Jacob
murmured, then kept on tinkering.
I glanced around, wondering if there was any chance that the Ryders
could have been here, if he was in fact a magical. I’d already checked the
entrance hall and the living room on my way in. There was no sign of the
Ryders’ business card, and it seemed safe to assume that they hadn’t
discovered Jacob yet. Reason and logic dictated that I address this with
Jacob, just to be sure. Plus, after what had happened with the Cranstons, I had
to do a better job of protecting people—especially the Smiths.
“Pour me a glass of lemonade, please,” I said, keeping my tone soft.
Jacob put the screwdriver down, then grabbed the pitcher and filled a
glass with chunks of ice and fresh lemonade. Mrs. Smith had dropped some
mint leaves in there. For décor, she’d always say, but they definitely gave it
an extra kick of deliciousness.
I used my Telekinesis to nudge the glass off the table. As soon as it
tumbled, Jacob’s hand twitched. Before his fingers could reach the glass, it
was back on the edge of the table. He looked at me, and his heart stopped
beating altogether. I’d caught him on reflex alone. I hadn’t even known he
was Telekinetic, but it seemed like a good test to run, just in case. Lucky for
me, it had worked. Jacob was a magical. No doubt about it.
 “Thanks, buddy,” I said, and took a long sip from the glass in question.
“You’re welcome,” he whispered, practically quaking in his boots. The
poor guy was caught red-handed, reflexively performing magic, and he was
probably waiting for me to say something. My cool demeanor, however, kept
throwing him for a loop.
“You didn’t tell me you were a magical,” I added, setting my gaze on
him.
Jacob was clearly surprised about the conversation’s sudden turn, but not
exactly shocked. Deep down, I was beginning to sense that he did, in fact,
know what I was. But how?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jacob mumbled, staring at me.
This was an act. I could smell the deceit from a mile away. It would’ve been
cute and downright endearing, had I not spotted him earlier.
It made me angry, but I knew I couldn’t blow a fuse right then and there.
The Ryders’ effect on me wasn’t his fault. This kid needed patience from me,
more than anything.
“Let’s not play this game, Jake,” I said. “You’re a magical, and
something tells me you know I’m one, too.”
He let a deep sigh roll out. His head dropped, shame swallowing us both
whole.
“I… I didn’t know how to talk to you about it,” he said.
I scoffed. “Nice to see I’m still right, at least once in a while.”
He didn’t say anything, but the guilt ate away at him. I rose to my feet
and crossed my arms.
“It’s not the kind of thing you just pop into a conversation with a
complete stranger,” he replied finally.
“So I did see you a few hours ago, in the Hamms’ backyard.”
His gaze shot up, finding mine. “It’s not what you think.”
“Then explain it to me, Jake, because I’ve got a lot on my plate right
now,” I shot back. “You were following me.”
“No. I was just in the neighborhood, I swear!” Jacob replied. “I’d gone
out for a walk, I had my music on… I don’t know anything about the Hamms
or whatever. I just saw you go into that house, that’s all.”
I wasn’t buying it. Not after the day’s horrible events. Susan and Larry’s
lifeless expressions were forever etched into my retinas. The smell of blood
refused to leave my nose. Worry gnawed at my stomach as I thought of little
Micah. I certainly didn’t want the same thing to happen to Jacob.
But I also knew how tough of a nut to crack a foster kid could be. We
didn’t trust people easily. It was going to take some time to get him on my
side. But I didn’t want to leave him in a potentially risky situation, where he
couldn’t come to me if he felt like he was in danger. If Katherine’s goons did
come around, I needed him to trust me and ask for my help.
I didn’t think the Ryders had found him. They would’ve left the card.
They would’ve wanted me, specifically, to know that they’d come by. I
didn’t want him to be another Kenneth Willow, and there was something
about his emotions that made me feel confident about my assessment. I
couldn’t be 100 percent sure that Jacob hadn’t met the Ryders, but my
instincts rarely failed me.
“Jake, I didn’t know you were a magical until a few minutes ago,” I said,
then blew out. “But you knew about me. I think that warrants some
explaining on your part.”
He blinked several times. There it was again. The guilt, the fear of
discovery.
“We need to be able to trust each other, dude,” I added. “There aren’t that
many of us, to begin with. Especially not in the foster system. We have to
stick together. I’ve got your back for life, but you have to let me in.”
“I figured it out,” he whispered. Relief washed over me—all his. He hated
keeping secrets, it seemed.
“How?” I asked.
“I saw your bracelet. Didn’t work with your pantsuit. I know how an
Esprit works.”
“Don’t give me that crap,” I muttered, gritting my teeth. “I can barely
spot someone like that, and I’ve been a magical longer than you. There’s
something you’re not telling me, Jake. I can feel it.”
“How do you know?” he challenged me.
“I’m an Empath. I can read you like an open book.”
He stilled. His heart shrank with sheer horror. He was headed straight for
a panic attack. My pulse was racing. His breathing became staggered and
heavy.
“I can’t read your thoughts, relax,” I continued, trying to reassure him. “I
can feel what you feel, that’s all. If you’re sad or hungry or… feeling happy
or guilty… stuff like that. It takes a lot more work for me to figure out
exactly what your emotions relate to. Chill, Jake.”
He seemed to relax. I couldn’t blame him for being fearful. Nobody liked
having their mind read, after all. It was the worst kind of privacy violation.
“Like I said, I know you’re lying to me,” I added, eager to steer the
conversation back to my point of interest. “How did you know I’m a
magical? Don’t give me the Esprit crap. That’s flimsy. I should know, I’ve
tried it.”
Jacob sighed, his gaze dropping to the grassy ground. “I can… I can sense
you.”
“You can sense me,” I murmured, unsure of what that meant.
“I can feel other magicals,” he said. “It’s one of my abilities.”
Holy crap!
This was huge. Krieger would’ve had a field day testing him. But was
such an ability even possible? If so, how? What combination of magical
bloodlines could lead to such a development? I found myself in awe of Jacob,
stunned by his confession.
Then I realized the implications.
Jacob, if discovered, could lose his freedom, his livelihood… his
everything. The Ryders and the likes of Katherine Shipton would’ve loved
their own living, breathing magical detector. The same went for the coven,
too. That made everything a million times more difficult for me. He’d just
found a home with the Smiths, and I had no idea where he’d been before.
“You can feel magicals?” I asked, my voice barely audible.
He nodded once. “My skin tingles.”
“What, like a Spidey sense? You’ve got to be kidding me!” I gasped.
Jacob shrugged. “Kind of? I don’t know. It’s difficult to describe.”
It didn’t really matter how he could do it. What mattered was that he
could. It made him more valuable than gold. I could think of plenty of
magicals who would’ve done anything to get Jacob on their team. Covens
with enough influence and money could capture him, maybe even take him
by force, since he wasn’t registered.
That was the downside of being a rogue magical, and not a Neutral. The
former meant he was off the books, anyone’s for the taking, basically. As a
Neutral, he was registered with a coven. Frankly, with such an ability, I
doubted they would allow him to remain Neutral.
I could almost hear Alton’s heart explode once I told him about Jacob.
 But did I want to tell anyone about him? Wasn’t he, perhaps, safer under
the radar, able to steer clear of magicals? At the same time, I didn’t want a
Cranstons repeat, either.
“Does anyone else know this?” I asked. Jacob shook his head. “Okay.
Let’s keep it that way for now, until we figure out what’s going on in San
Diego.”
He sighed. “I was going to say the same thing. I’m not sure I want myself
out in the open.”
I frowned. “Are you scared of something?”
Fear did trickle through me, but not with enough intensity to trigger a
serious alarm. It was more angst than fear, in fact.
He shook his head again. “Just cautious.”
I was inclined to believe him, but not completely. There was always a
catch, somewhere. A hidden page. A well-kept secret. In my experience,
people like Jacob and me were never fully honest with those who claimed to
want to protect us—not in the beginning, anyway.
 TWENTY-TWO

Tatyana

e had quite a doozy on our hands.

W Nine-year-old Andrew Prescott had gone missing yesterday
afternoon. His biological parents had just moved to San Diego about a month
earlier and had yet to register with the coven. We got as much information
out of them as possible, then rigged their house with charms. If the Ryders,
whose card we’d found there, were going to come back, we’d be notified.
Astrid spoke to Alton and got him to put a pair of eyes on the house, just
in case. By the time we were done debriefing the Prescotts, the worst news
came from Wade’s team. Micah Cranston was missing, and his human
parents were dead. It broke my heart, but I couldn’t let it get to me.
Oberon was nestled inside me and, to my surprise, kept me focused on the
task at hand.
Garrett fit in quite easily on our team. He maintained a professional
demeanor and a calm approach. That, too, helped.
We drove up to the Devereaux mansion next, all three of us quiet as the
Cranstons’ death sank in. The Devereaux couple were rich, owners of a
gorgeous hacienda-type property up in Tierrasanta. It was part of a seemingly
safe, gated community, with distant views of the Mission Trails Regional
Parks at the back.
The house itself was huge, built on three levels, with sumptuous arches
and sprawling gardens. Magnolia trees trembled in the late spring breeze,
their pink petals drifting away.
As soon as we reached the massive iron gate, we knew there was
something wrong. There was a police car outside by the main steps, its red-
and-blue lights on.
A terrible thing happened here, Tatyana… Oberon’s voice echoed in my
head.
“That can’t be good,” Garrett muttered, frowning as he eyed the cop car.
The front door was wide open. He fumbled through his jacket pocket and
pulled out his fake FBI badge. “Let’s use these for good measure. We have
Marjorie Phillips missing, too, so plenty of reasons to stop by the
Devereauxes’ if their kid’s gone.”
I nodded and took out my fake FBI badge. Astrid rang the intercom. We
listened to it ring twice, before someone picked up, their voice crackling
through the speaker.
“Who is it?” the man asked.
“FBI, sir. We’re here to talk about Louella,” Garrett replied.
“What if the cops are there for something else? What if the kid isn’t
missing?” Astrid whispered.
“After everything that’s happened since yesterday, do you really think
this isn’t what happened here?” Garrett asked.
The gate buzzed and slid open. We made our way to the entrance on foot,
carefully analyzing our surroundings. There was definitely a bad vibe here,
but I couldn’t exactly put my finger on it.
The spirits are restless, Oberon said. They saw something.
Hold your horses, I thought my reply to him. I had to pay more attention
this time around, and make sure that Astrid and Garrett didn’t hear me
accidentally talking out loud with my ghostly passenger. Let’s talk to the
Devereauxes first.
As soon as we reached the front door, however, I knew that all those bad
feelings I’d been having about this place were justified. A side table had been
knocked over. Stuff was thrown across the floor.
Sirens wailed in the distance, just as we made it into the living room,
where we were greeted by two police officers in uniform and two dead
bodies. It didn’t take a scientist to guess who the dead couple were. Ted and
Lucinda Devereaux were quite well known around San Diego, their faces
plastered on several local tabloids. They came from a wealthy oil family from
the Midwest and had moved here about five years ago. I remembered the
notes on their profile, from Alton’s list.
Their throats were slit, and there were black smudges all over the place.
“Obliviscaris in Perpetuum,” Garrett muttered, his brow furrowed and his
jaw clenched.
Both cops were pale, their eyes wide as they stared at the bodies. The
Devereauxes were pale, too, their eyes glassy and their lips purple. They’d
been dead for at least five, maybe six hours, judging by their looks and the
dried-up blood on the wooden floor.
“How’d you know to come here?” one of the cops asked. I spotted his
nametag: Bowman. His colleague was Fraser. “We haven’t even called this in
yet.”
“How’d you get here, then, if this wasn’t called in?” Garrett replied,
flashing his FBI badge.
Bowman narrowed his eyes at it, before he sighed and shook his head
slowly. “An alarm went off on the property. It’s linked to our station.”
“When did that happen?” Garrett asked.
“About twenty minutes ago. Dispatch tried to reach out to the
Devereauxes over the phone, but there was no answer, so they sent us here,”
Bowman explained. “So, what’s the FBI doing here?”
“The kid’s missing,” Garrett said.
Personally, I thought this was a gamble. The cops could’ve known about
this. Judging by the surprised looks on their faces, they didn’t.
“Again, how’d you know?” Bowman asked, visibly concerned.
“The Devereauxes called us last night,” Garrett replied, absolutely
winging it. “What can you tell us about the crime scene?”
Bowman glanced around, visibly disturbed by the bloody sight. Astrid
wasn’t looking great, either, as she slowly moved back and slipped out of the
living room altogether.
“No sign of breaking and entering. The door was open, the locks intact,”
Bowman explained. “The alarm went off twenty minutes ago, but these two
have been dead for longer than that. My guess is maybe the maid came in,
saw the couple, freaked out, and ran off before punching in the security
code.”
“No CCTV then?” I asked.
Fraser shook his head. “No murder weapon either. The kid’s not here. If
she was missing since yesterday, then that’s a whole other case.”
“That’s ours. This isn’t the first child to go missing this week. We have a
couple others from Friday and today, actually,” Garrett replied. It was a good
strategy. We had to give them some information in order to get them to more
easily relinquish theirs.
“Oh, yeah. The Phillips kid, right? Gone missing on Friday if I remember
correctly,” Bowman said. “Two of our colleagues in Missing Persons were on
that. You took over?”
Garrett took a deep breath, resting his hands on his hips. He practically
towered over the two middle-aged cops. “Yeah. It became an FBI matter
since more than one child has gone missing, and your PD is understaffed for
this.”
“Who’s the other kid?” Bowman asked.
“Have you checked the rest of the house? Any sign of Louella
Devereaux?” Garrett replied, bluntly changing the subject.
Bowman evidently noticed the shift but didn’t pursue it. Instead, he
pursed his lips. “Nothing. From what we know, they adopted her six months
ago. Raucous little thing, had some run-ins with the law before that. Sixteen
and perpetually angry, covered in tattoos. We’ll pull her file up for more
details, but I specifically remember busting her once for a misdemeanor. She
was hanging with the wrong crowd.”
“Do you think she might’ve done this to them?” Fraser murmured, unable
to take his eyes off the dead father.
“I’m not excluding the possibility,” Bowman said. “But frankly, I doubt
it. The moment she got into the Devereauxes’ place, she stayed out of
trouble. I didn’t see her in the back alleys of El Cajon anymore, either.”
“Maybe something happened to her,” Garrett suggested. “Looks like there
was quite the struggle here. What if some old nasty friends of hers followed
her up here and did this, huh? She’s been missing since yesterday. Maybe
someone took her first, then came in and killed the parents.”
I knew where this was going. Garrett was planting early suggestions.
Astrid came back in, swiping on her tablet screen and frowning. “Says
here Louella might be a Telepath, based on the eyewitness reports. Some
people said she knew too much about them, that she used that information to
get favors. You know, better seat in the cafeteria, discount on a blouse, minor
stuff like that. She unknowingly tried it on a couple of Neutrals, too, who
followed her around for a couple of days and observed her behavior and
interactions with people. It’s how she was brought to our attention, in the
end.”
That got Bowman and Fraser’s attention. Their eyebrows shot up. Garrett
cleared his throat, prompting Astrid to look up.
“Seriously?” Garrett muttered.
“What? I thought you were flashing them,” she retorted.
“What are you people talking about?” Bowman asked.
Garrett walked up to them and slowly raised his left hand, his Esprit
watch glistening blue. The cops stilled, their eyes twinkling yellow for a split
second. “You never met us. We were never here. You’ll stand here in silence
until you hear a honk outside. After that, you’ll resume your investigation.
Louella is missing. Something must’ve happened to her. You’ll put an APB
out on her.”
The cops stood there, idle and absent-looking, as we left the house. I
found the Ryder twins’ card on the floor in the hallway. I picked it up and
handed it to Garrett.
“They’ll be in there for a while,” Garrett said, looking at the card. “Hm…
This does have their stench all over it.”
“This is just like the Cranstons,” Astrid replied.
“Despite what you said to the cops, we have no idea what happened to
Louella.” I sighed. “Could she have run away, or did the Ryders take her?”
“We won’t know for sure until we canvass the area,” Garrett said.
Tatyana, there are spirits here. They saw what happened, Oberon chimed
in, startling me.
“Hold on,” I murmured. “Let me check with the spirits.”
Garrett and Astrid waited patiently at the bottom of the stairs, while I
remained at the top, closing my eyes.
“You’d better come through for me, Oberon,” I whispered.
As the darkness settled around me, I noticed the spirits drifting around—
most of them in the yard, though there were a couple standing right next to
Garrett and Astrid, motionless and semi-transparent.
There, in the yard, Oberon said. They know something.
I made my way down the stairs and stepped onto the green space, where
dozens of hydrangeas and rosebushes blossomed in rich shades of pink, lilac,
and red. Four spirits stood in the middle, in the shade of a massive magnolia
tree. They didn’t look from this era, but rather from the early 1900s. Three of
them were Latinas, and the fourth was African American—she caught my
eye.
With or without Oberon’s guidance, as a Kolduny I was able to spot
spirits that could help me. I could see it in her eyes. The African-American
girl had seen something.
“There’s a ghost inside you,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
“I know. He’s helping me,” I replied, giving her a soft smile. “What are
you all doing here?”
They looked at each other, then over my shoulder at the other two spirits,
next to Garrett and Astrid. The African-American girl sighed. “We died
together. There was a fire here in 1912. Well, those two back there, by the
stairs, died sometime in the fifties. A party went horribly wrong.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “But why are you all still around? You should’ve
moved on.”
“We don’t know about the two starlets, but we couldn’t,” one of the
Latinas replied. “The young lady of the house at the time, Estrella, was only
five. We had to look after her.”
“Then she had children. We wanted to protect them, too,” the African-
American girl added. “Then the Devereaux clan bought the mansion and
kicked them out. For some reason, we were stuck here. We couldn’t follow
Estrella’s family.”
“That’s all very nice, but what did you see?” Oberon cut in, his voice
louder and clearer than before. Suddenly, I felt tired and heavy, as if Oberon
was draining the life out of me.
“Get back inside,” I said. “You’re wearing me out! This isn’t part of the
deal, Oberon!”
I heard him grumble something, before I felt the enormous pressure leave
my shoulders. I could breathe again.
“Something horrible happened here,” the African-American girl said.
“Two people… with strange powers… They came up to the door very early
this morning. I think it was three, maybe four o’clock. The Devereauxes let
them in, because they said something had happened to Louella. The
Devereauxes were already worried. They hadn’t seen her since Saturday
morning.”
“Then they talked for a while about Louella,” one of the Latinas added.
“The strangers wanted to know where she could’ve gone.”
“They didn’t know where Louella was?” I asked. The spirits shook their
heads simultaneously. “Which means they probably tried to catch her outside
the Devereaux property, maybe somewhere in town. They came here
knowing she wouldn’t have come back home, and inserted themselves onto
the property.”
“They killed them,” the African-American girl said, her lower lip
trembling. “They slit their throats and trashed the place, then dropped a card
on the floor and left, laughing. They were laughing!”
“What did they look like?” I asked.
“The girl had short black hair and brown eyes. The boy had long black
hair and brown eyes. They were related, undoubtedly. Perhaps siblings,” she
said. “They looked alike. They were vicious. So vicious.”
“When is the last time you saw Louella?” I replied.
The African-American girl exchanged glances with the others, and
frowned at me. “Early morning on Saturday. She left the house in a hurry, but
I don’t know why. I wasn’t inside at the time. Her mother came out, shouting
her name and asking her to come back, but Louella wouldn’t listen. She kept
going, until she vanished up the road. None of us could follow.”
“I suppose you’re all tied to the property, that’s why,” I said. “Thank you
all. Thank you.”
I left them beneath the magnolia tree and headed back to Garrett and
Astrid, the darkness dissipating around me as I returned to the living plane.
You should ask those other two standing behind your friends, Oberon
suggested.
I stopped in front of Astrid and Garrett, then closed my eyes again. Two
young girls in midcentury garb were chatting behind them, giggling and
giving me sideways glances.
“Did you two see anything?” I asked them.
They both shook their heads. One of them was a redhead, the other a
luscious brunette. Their skirts and ruffled tops reminded me of movies from
Hollywood’s Golden Age. They must’ve worked in the business. They had
the theatrical gestures and demeanor of Californian starlets.
“I think you did,” I said.
“We’re not interested in talking to you,” the redhead replied. “You’re
bland.”
 “That hunk you’ve got in you, though… He can chat us up if he wants
to.” The brunette grinned, revealing two rows of pearly white teeth.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, sighing with frustration. “Do you have
anything to share about what happened last night, or do you just want me to
hook you up with another ghost? Because he can’t take you girls out on a
date, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”
“We know that!” the brunette snapped, then pouted. “But it’s been a long
time since we’ve met someone as dashing as your… friend. We just want him
to talk to us, and we’ll tell you what we saw.”
“You’re not yanking my chain here?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
They both seemed insulted, their nostrils flaring angrily. At this point, I
had a choice. Leave them be, or let Oberon talk through my body. That meant
revealing him to Garrett and Astrid. Information was crucial at this point. I
didn’t feel like I had much of a choice.
“Take over for a minute,” I said to Oberon.
His glee tickled my throat, shortly before I felt crushed under the weight
of a pickup truck. That was how intense it was when a ghost took control of
my body. It wore me out.
“Hey, ladies.” Oberon chuckled, and my lips stretched into a sly grin. I
could only imagine what Astrid and Garrett were thinking in that moment. I
couldn’t hear or see them in the veil, but I had lost my ability to rein in my
voice, as well as control over my body.
“Hi, handsome,” the brunette replied with a seductive wink.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” the redhead exclaimed, clapping with
excitement.
I was having a hard time not only consciously supporting the full weight
of Oberon’s spirit, but also struggling not to roll my eyes at them.
“Glad to know I’m making two gorgeous creatures such as yourselves
happy,” Oberon said, turning his charm up to eleven. “How about you tell me
what you saw last night? My spirit-talking friend and I would really
appreciate it.”
“Oh, so that’s why you’re in her! I never tried possessing someone
before!” the brunette murmured.
Oberon sensed my alarm and chuckled nervously. “Well, don’t, toots. It’s
not for amateurs. This is a powerful conduit I’m riding, not your run-of-the-
mill type of human. Now, come on, tell me what you saw. Louella’s life is at
stake.”
“Ugh. That dramatic little brat,” the redhead groaned. “She got so lucky
to get her scrawny ass adopted into the Devereaux family, and she still threw
fits. ‘I wanna go there! I wanna do that! Why won’t you let me see my old
friends?’ Boo-friggin’-hoo! Girl didn’t know how good she had it until last
night!”
“Wait, she was here?” Oberon replied.
They both nodded. “She was at the gates,” the brunette said. “The other
ghosts… you know, the maids and whatever… they were inside with the
Devereauxes. Front seats to the gruesome murder!” she added with sinister
laughter.
“But Louella was out here. She’s a weird one, you know? She can see
through walls. She can hear from miles away,” the redhead added.
“Something is wrong with her.”
“Anyway, we think Louella was coming back home, when she heard her
parents getting slaughtered in there,” the brunette said, nodding at the house,
then pointing at the gate. “She stood there for a minute or two, then ran off
crying.”
I understood then that Louella had some special abilities, indeed. Some
I’d never heard of before—not without the use of a spell, anyway. Maybe
she’d learned magic from somewhere. We couldn’t know for sure until we
found her.
“Anything else, ladies?” Oberon asked, detecting my raw nerves as they
stretched to new limits. He knew how much his full presence weighed on me.
“The killers came out, cackling like devils,” the redhead replied, “and
walked out through the front gate. They said, and I quote, ‘Katie’s going to
hang our asses out to dry if we don’t catch the little mouse,’” she added,
mimicking a nasal tone.
“Thank you.” Oberon sighed. “Your assistance was incredible. And,
might I add, you two look fantastic, given that you’re, you know… dead.”
They both fawned over him, fluttering their eyelashes and almost melting
before us. I felt Oberon slip into the backseat of my consciousness. I could
breathe again.
Leaving the spirit world behind, I opened my eyes to a very troubled
Astrid and a highly amused Garrett. Astrid put her phone out, its screen dark,
long enough for her to spot Oberon’s reflection in the glass. She gasped, then
took several steps back.
“It’s okay,” I said, trying to keep her from freaking out. She’d seen me
possessed before. “I’ve got him under control. He’s helping me.”
“You let a ghost ride you? Seriously?” Garrett chuckled. “I heard about
the last time you were taken over, Tatyana. You still haven’t learned your
lesson?”
“I told you, I’ve got him under control!” I insisted. “I have full command
over my body at all times!”
That was a white lie, of course. Only minutes earlier, Oberon had
completely taken over with the first group of spirits before I snapped at him.
But I didn’t need to admit that. Oberon had been incredibly helpful just now.
I had to give him credit.
“Tatyana, seriously, this is messed up,” Astrid said. “You know you’re
not fully developed, so you can’t withstand a possession without the spirit
eventually taking over.”
“Astrid, don’t worry about it. I mean it. I’m fine. We agreed to work
together, Oberon and me. And he definitely helped!” I replied. “I just found
out that Louella left the house early yesterday morning after an argument
with the parents. Something happened during the day. Late last night, at
around three or four, the Ryders came in.”
Now I had their full attention, the issue of Oberon and me slipping
somewhere in the background. I gave them all the details I’d gathered from
the spirits, including the last time they’d seen Louella, specifically during her
parents’ murder.
Garrett and Astrid were silent for a while.
“The description you have of the Ryders,” Astrid murmured, flipping
through her Smartie tablet files. “I’ve heard it before. Yup, here it is. They’re
Shapeshifters, all right, just like Wade said. And they’re recycling identities.
This wasn’t the first time they used these personas.”
“It hurts less to recycle identities,” Garrett said.
“One thing I could never wrap my head around is how do they get all the
physical details right? They can’t possibly do it with just a photo,” I chimed
in, further steering the conversation away from Oberon.
Garrett’s shoulders dropped. “They need to touch the person they’re
copying. Or something that carries their DNA, like a hair or a nail or
something.”
 “Wow, that’s creepy,” Astrid replied, then frowned at him. “Wait, how’d
you know that? It’s not in any of the manuals. It’s not common knowledge,
for sure.”
“It isn’t,” I muttered, eyeing him suspiciously. “I’ve never heard of that
before. As a matter of fact, from what I remember, non-Shapeshifter magicals
are unable to fully explain the transformation process.”
“It’s because we keep it to ourselves. Usually, anyway. I feel like I can
trust you two,” Garrett said.
“Holy crap!” Astrid gasped. “You’re a Shapeshifter!”
“And you’re a human, and Tatyana here has a ghost riding her,” Garrett
fired back, irritated. “Nobody’s perfect!”
“Does anyone in the coven know?” I asked, slightly on edge.
“Alton, Wade, and Adley. That’s it. Well, and now you two. I’d
appreciate it if we kept it at that. The stigma is still real and present,” he said.
“I’m not comfortable with more people knowing about this, but I am aware
that my ability can give you some insight into how the Ryders operate. And
that’s what matters right now.”
Astrid stood in silence, processing the discovery. Then she looked at me.
“You need to tell Wade about what you’re doing with the ghost. Wait, whose
ghost is in you?”
“Oberon Marx,” I said.
“Oh. He helped you with Dylan, right?”
I nodded. “I’ll tell Wade, but not yet. I don’t want him expelling Oberon.”
“But—”
“You know that’s exactly what Wade will do, the moment he hears I’ve
got a ghost in me!” I cut her off, my tone clipped.
“For good reason, too!” she said.
“It’s not the same, Astrid. I’m conscious, and I have a grip on things.
Please. Just bear with me. We need all the help we can get. I mean, look at
this mess,” I said, pointing at the Devereaux mansion. I wasn’t entirely
honest, and Oberon probably had something to do with it, but he’d proven
himself useful. I wasn’t ready to let go of him. “Bodies are dropping, magical
kids are going poof. And Katherine Shipton might be involved. This is not a
good time to play by the rules.”
“Tatyana does have a point,” Garrett said. “Special circumstances call for
extreme measures. You know that. It’s why you were brought back to life
three times, right? Special circumstances?”
Astrid nodded slowly. I remembered her previous, tragic deaths. As a
Necromancer, Alton was able to bring her back, though each time it threw
him straight into a Purge, given the intensity of the entire process. But he had
to bring her back. Astrid was a human, and she’d died while helping us
magicals. He had the coven authority to do that.
“I’ll put all the data we gathered from here through Smartie and send it
out to Wade and the others. I’ll leave Oberon out of this for now,” she said,
and I breathed a sigh of relief. “But the moment I smell something fishy,
Tatyana, I’m telling Wade. Okay?”
“Okay. Thanks,” I replied, smiling.
“I’ll put all the descriptions we have of the Ryders into the system, too.
We’re clearly looking for different people, impersonated by the same
magicals.”
We left the Devereaux property and got back in the car. As soon as the
engine roared to life, Garrett pressed the horn a couple of times, enough for
the idle cops inside the mansion to snap out of their hypnotic state and
resume their investigative work.
“We’ll send a cleanup crew out here today,” he said, driving off.
My heart felt heavy. I didn’t like how Oberon had been able to take the
wheel earlier, but he had definitely helped us back there. I was split between
letting him stay and expelling him.
Trust me, Tatyana, Oberon whispered in the back of my head. I won’t
cross you again. It was pure reflex back there, completely unintentional. You
have full control, I promise.
Given our circumstances, I didn’t have much of a choice. There was still
so much we didn’t know, and considering what we’d seen from the Ryders so
far, we had to be ready for the worst.
 TWENTY-THREE

Harley

ave you ever gotten a visit from two people with the last name Ryder?
“H Or any… I don’t know, wonky social workers, maybe?” I asked Jacob,
mentally crossing my fingers for a no.
“No. Just the usual social workers I’ve known for years. They come
around once a month to check up on me, but they’re good people,” Jacob
replied.
I nodded slowly, breathing a sigh of relief at the same time. At least he
was safe, for the time being, still undetected. Maybe that’s why the Ryders
hadn’t found him. Yet. Besides, since Jacob was a part of my foster family,
they would’ve definitely left a clue or something behind, just to mess with
me and the coven, based on their behavioral pattern.
“So, you knew what I was from the moment we met,” I said to Jacob as
we played another round of cards in the garden. The sun had already set, and
we’d been at it for a few hours. Dinner was going to be served soon. I could
already smell the lasagna that Mrs. Smith was cooking in the oven.
“Yeah… I just… I don’t want anyone to know I can do this kind of stuff,”
he replied. “The Smiths are so nice. I don’t want to lose them.”
“You know what you are, then. You know about Chaos, the coven, all of
us.”
We’d kept the conversation away from him for a while, as I told him my
life story, from the very beginning that I could remember—foster care, and
up to the present, describing my trials and tribulations, as well as my own
experiences with the coven, Finch, and Katherine Shipton.
He nodded again. “I learned from the witches and warlocks I came
across. Most of them rogues in small California towns. This is my first stable
home in San Diego.”
“What happened to your previous foster family?” I asked. “I heard there
was a death involved.”
He sighed, lowering his head. “I wasn’t in full control of my abilities. My
foster mom came in at the wrong time and… she died.”
His grief and guilt tore me apart. I gave him a gentle shoulder squeeze, in
an attempt to comfort him. I wanted more details, but he didn’t seem ready to
give them.
“And you’ve got a grip on your magic now?” I asked.
“It’s better than before, I guess.”
“And you never thought of coming to the coven? Dude, they could give
you a safe home. They could teach you stuff.”
Jacob shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard great things about the San
Diego Coven. It’s why there are a lot of rogues in this city.”
Given his ability to sense them, Jacob could spot the ones that the coven
had been unable to identify yet. Maybe he was better off with the coven, after
all. He could help us reach out to unidentified magicals, so other hostiles
wouldn’t reel them in first. The one thing I knew for sure was that having too
many rogue magicals on the loose didn’t bode well for us, not even if they
were on their best behavior.
We had to keep track of who came, who left, and who stayed, especially
with the likes of Katherine Shipton and the Ryder twins in town.
“You should think about it,” I said.
“Don’t tell on me, please!” he replied, slightly alarmed. He was afraid,
but I still wasn’t sure of what, exactly. The kind of crippling urgency bursting
through him couldn’t possibly all be related to the coven. There had to be
something else… something deeper inside him. “I don’t want the coven to
know about my ability to sense magicals. I haven’t told anyone about it. I’ve
kept it to myself even with other rogues, I promise! I know what my power
can do in the wrong hands. It’s why I’m okay with just staying here, in the
Smiths’ care.”
“So, you keep your abilities under control, huh?” I asked, my voice low.
 He nodded. “I got some tips from several rogues,” he said. “I keep my
head down, I don’t hurt anyone, I don’t look for trouble, and I go to school. I
swear.”
“Okay, I believe you,” I replied, smiling softly. “The secret about
controlling your powers is to focus on what you want from them.
Determination, Jake. You tell them what to do, not the other way around.
They’re a part of you. You’re not a part of them. If you set your mind on that,
you’ll always have a better grip.”
“Thanks,” he murmured, returning a faint smile.
I breathed out, partially relieved for having had this conversation, but
something still weighed on me.
I knew I had unfinished business back at the coven. Today’s events were
coming back to haunt me. Not just the guilt over what had happened to the
Cranstons, but also the heartache stemming from Wade’s anger. He had every
reason to be mad at me. After all, I’d been the one to push for Micah to stay
with his human foster parents. Those alarms and traps we’d set hadn’t
prevented the Ryders from killing them. Neither had Santana’s Orisha. I had
my own demons to wrestle now.
I rose to my feet and let out a long sigh. It was time to go back and face
the music. “Listen, Jake, I have to go, but I’ll be in touch. Here’s my
number,” I said, giving him one of my cards. “Call me if you need anything,
if you get into any kind of trouble… whatever. Just call me, okay?”
“Yeah, thanks,” he mumbled.
“I won’t tell the coven about you, but I need you to watch yourself and
take care of Mr. and Mrs. Smith, too, okay? They’re human. They don’t
know any better. And stay away from the Ryder twins, if, by any rotten
chance, they come around.”
“The Ryder twins,” he repeated after me, his voice faded.
My stomach hurt. It wasn’t hunger. It was stress, along with the dread of
losing another life today. “They’re bad people, Jake. I think they’re working
with Katherine Shipton.”
“Oh, your aunt.”
I groaned, rolling my eyes. “Yeah, crappy family. Not my fault,” I
replied. “Either way, if they come around… If anyone magical comes around,
claiming to be from the coven or the Mage Council or whatever, you call me
immediately. No matter what. Your life depends on it. And so do the
Smiths’.”
He nodded again.
“Thank you, Harley,” he said. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m not sure that’s such a good thing, given what’s been happening
lately,” I murmured, sighing. “Be good, Jake. Keep your nose clean.”
He smiled, and I gave him a forced one back, as he resumed work on his
pet feeder. I then went back inside, a weight still keeping my shoulders down.
Mrs. Smith was just about to pull the lasagna out of the oven.
“I have to skip dinner, I’m afraid,” I said to her. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, sweetie, that’s a shame!” she replied. “It’s going to be delicious. I
added fresh parsley from the garden.”
“I have to meet some friends tonight, and I completely forgot. Next time,
I promise!”
She moved around the counter island and pulled me in for a hug. “That’s
okay, Harley. I’m glad you’re coming by more often, and thank you for
spending time with Jacob.”
“It’s my pleasure,” I breathed, tears stinging my eyes as I reveled in her
warmth. “For what it’s worth, Jacob’s a good kid. He keeps his head down.
But if there’s ever anything wrong or if you’re worried about him, please call
me immediately. Okay?”
She smiled and nodded, then kissed my temple.
“I’ll see you soon, honey,” she said.

Once I left the Smiths’ house, my heart sank further. As soon as I detached
myself from their loving and jovial presence, reality came crashing down on
me completely. My phone beeped. I checked the message. It was from Astrid,
and it made me want to die right then and there. Two other magicals were
missing, and another couple of foster parents had been murdered, just like the
Cranstons.
Whatever the Ryder twins were up to, it was escalating, and I was afraid
we couldn’t keep up.
I headed to the nearest bus stop, a couple of blocks away. It was on a
street corner, dimly lit and empty. There were barely any souls outside after
dark. This was mostly a residential area. Anything that wasn’t directly
connected to the main boulevard looked practically abandoned after nine p.m.
I loved this place at night, and I’d often gone on walks throughout the
neighborhood before I moved out.
I reached the bus stop and checked the schedule. The next ride was
coming in fifteen minutes. I had time to kill, so I decided to text Wade, just to
see if his mood had improved.
On my way back. Need anything? HM. I always signed my texts like he
did, just to mess with him.
But his reply was swift and sharp, and it hurt me deeply.
No. I briefed Alton. We’ll talk in the morning. WC
Even his signature wasn’t enough to lift my spirits.
I sensed a foreign feeling creep into my consciousness, and I lowered my
phone, wondering where it was coming from. Concern… mixed with
affection. Intriguing and confusing, to say the least. I stepped away from the
bus stop shelter and moved toward the street corner, glancing around. There
wasn’t anyone out here. Streetlights flickered on along the sides of the street
as nightfall finally settled.
Then I caught movement to my right. I turned my head and spotted two
figures slowly moving toward me, from the other end of the alley leading to
the main bus route. But there weren’t any emotions coming from them.
That set off my alarms instantly.
Male and female.
They were dressed in black, wearing hoodies beneath their leather jackets.
Something glistened in their right hands. I noticed the Esprits before I could
see their faces. The alley was dimly lit.
My instincts kicked in.
I had a feeling I knew who they were. And it spelled massive trouble for
me.
The moment I could see their cold grins, however, I knew for sure. These
were the Ryder twins—wearing two of their known faces, with deep blue
eyes and pale blond hair. The vicious glow in their eyes was what truly gave
them away. They knew who I was. The fact that I couldn’t sense their
emotions was further cause for alarm. It was also setting up a strange pattern,
but I didn’t have time to think about that anymore.
“Merlin,” the girl said, her voice coarse like sandpaper and her tone
clipped as she and the brother kept walking toward me, seemingly calm and
relaxed. “I was wondering when we’d get a moment alone.”
 “I take it you’re Emily and Emmett Ryder,” I murmured, preparing
myself for the worst. My eyes darted about, checking every single escape
route and potential weapon I could use against them.
“Our reputation precedes us,” Emmett replied, grinning.
“No, but you keep leaving your cards everywhere. It’s a little desperate, if
you ask me. It’s like you’re begging for attention,” I said, my blood boiling. I
was finally coming face-to-face with two of the most vicious magicals I’d
ever dealt with.
Flashbacks of Susan and Larry’s lifeless bodies rattled my brain, setting
my skin on fire. I was itching for a fight. Judging by their sneers, so were
they.
“Well, we had to get your attention,” Emily remarked.
“Oh, you have more than that,” I answered, taking an attack stance.
Emily laughed, her Esprit bracelet lighting up orange. “You really think
you can take us on, noob?”
“Why don’t you try me, you monster!” I shouted, fury blazing through
my every nerve.
She threw a fast fireball at me.
I ducked. It missed me by an inch, tops, and I smelled burnt hair. I patted
the top of my head and checked my ponytail, just in case. All good. I think.
Emmett used Telekinesis on me before I could react. The invisible force
gripped me by the throat and threw me to one side.
I pushed a Telekinetic pulse out from my hand, just before Emmett’s
force could slam me into the bus stop. The counter-punch of my Telekinesis
helped break the hold he had on me, and I dropped on the ground, then shot
back up and released a flurry of fireballs.
Emmett did his best to dodge them, but one nipped him in the shoulder.
The flames burst bright and orange, before he dropped and rolled to put them
out. Emily, however, revealed herself to be a Herculean like Dylan, as she
darted left and right with lightning speed, then rammed into me.
The tackle knocked the air out of my lungs and I was thrown backward. I
landed painfully, with Emily straddling me. She tried to punch me, but the
sudden jolt of energy flowing through me kickstarted my adrenaline. I served
her an uppercut before she could hit me, then grabbed her by the throat with a
Telekinetic grip and threw her to the side.
Emmett muttered a spell.
 Knowing I only had a split second till whatever hex he’d cast would hit
me, I leapt up and ran toward the other side of the street, trying to put some
distance between myself and the twins. Emily got back on her feet, grunting
and cursing under her breath. She threw a massive ball of fire.
I used my Elemental ability and slapped the fire hydrant next to me to
summon its water. Thankfully, laws required that one of these babies be
mounted every five hundred feet along the road. It moaned and trembled
before a thick water jet broke out and shot upward. Keeping my focus, I
spread the water out in a fan just as the blaze was about to swallow me
whole. The fire sizzled and died out.
Emmett’s Telekinetic grip took hold of me again. I was nowhere near
strong or capable enough to handle both of them at the same time. Once
more, I was hurled into the air like a rag doll. I summoned the winds to break
my fall, but it didn’t do much as Emily slammed into me. I cried out in pain,
every inch of my body aching.
I rolled away, the asphalt scratching my face and hands as I tried to stop
and regain control of the situation. I wound up lying on my belly, taking deep
breaths and quickly assessing my physical state. Nothing felt exactly broken,
but something told me I was going to be hurting even more in the morning,
when the adrenaline was gone.
“Man, I was told I’d have to bring my A game with you,” Emmett
sneered. “From the looks of you, Merlin, that fancy bloodline of yours isn’t
worth much these days.”
I groaned, trying to push myself back up. “I don’t know much about my
bloodline, but I do know a pompous jerk when I see one!” I hissed, then
focused my Esprit on his head.
The Telekinetic punch was so concentrated and powerful that it knocked
him back, blood spraying out of his nose. He hadn’t seen that coming, and
neither had Emily, who stared at me in shock.
I didn’t give her a chance to hit back. I channeled all my anger into a
second Telekinetic punch—it smacked her hard in the chest. I heard her grunt
as she was flipped backward by the force.
They were both down. This was my chance to get out of here.
My knees were weak, and I felt bruised all over, but I had to move. I
growled as I staggered to my feet and hurried away.
Ten yards later, Emmett’s Telekinetic grip had me by the ankles. All of a
sudden, I was back down, flat on my face, getting dragged back to hell itself.
A massive bubble of blue energy shot out around us. I gasped at the sight
of it. It was a time-lapse spell. My heart skipped a beat as I glanced over my
shoulder, hoping to see Wade, but there was no one there.
Either way, good call, I guess. Can’t have humans watching us battle it
out.
The Ryders were shocked, though, looking up and scowling at the time
lapse. It was enough for me to realize that they hadn’t been the ones to cast it.
“What the—” Emmett tried to speak, but he was suddenly lifted and
rammed into the blue energy ceiling with enough force to make him yelp in
agony. He landed with a painful thud, spitting blood.
A shadow darted to my right. Emily’s eyes moved fast as she tried to spot
the assailant. Whoever this was, they were incredibly swift. Another
Telekinetic pulse came out—even more powerful than the one that had
broken Emmett. It hit Emily hard, throwing her head to the side.
She collapsed, moaning.
Before I could even think of my next step, I was pulled back up on my
feet and turned around. My so-called savior was clad in a black hood. I
couldn’t see the face, but a feeling of urgency seared through me.
“Hold on, this is going to hurt,” the stranger said with a feminine voice.
A woman.
She put an arm around my waist and pulled me close, holding me firmly
as she put her other hand out, the ring on her finger lighting up bright green.
I lost my breath as I watched the air tremble and rip open like a gash,
revealing the kind of pitch blackness that sent shivers down my spine.
“No! Stop them!” I heard Emmett cry out.
I didn’t get a chance to do anything, as the stranger pulled me into the
strange blackness. I may have screamed. I wasn’t sure at that point, as the
very fabric of the universe warped and warbled into a billion colors. It only
lasted for a second, before I found myself falling.
We both landed on the grass, from a significant height.
It was painful enough for me to employ some of my ear-burning curse
words, in a litany that could make the devil himself gasp with shock. I looked
up and saw the gash in the air disappear as the stranger got back on her feet
with a soft grunt. Only… I wasn’t in the Smiths’ neighborhood anymore.
“What in the ever-living—” I stopped myself by covering my mouth, and
sat up, taking in my surroundings.
We were in Waterfront Park.
“Sorry for the rough ride,” the stranger said. Her voice sounded awfully
familiar.
“What… What just happened?!” I croaked.
“You’ve never been through a wormhole before, huh?” she replied.
A what, now?
Her tone was amused, but her emotions revealed a sense of endearment.
Whoever she was, she meant well. I could feel it in my bones, along with the
brutal beating I’d just gotten from the Ryders.
“Who are you?” I asked, still panting. “I mean, don’t get me wrong,
thanks a bunch for saving my ass back there, but… who are you?”
She took her hood off, and my stomach dropped. I forgot how to breathe
altogether as I recognized the witch standing before me.
The long black hair had streaks of white in it, but it was hers, all right. I’d
seen it cascade down her shoulders like that, more than once. The sky looked
at me through her eyes. And a piece of me was embedded in her smile. I
knew that face.
Isadora Merlin.
 TWENTY-FOUR

Harley

or a moment, I thought I was stuck in a dream, and I wasn’t sure which

F kind.
Isadora Merlin, my father’s sister, was standing before me, clearly very
much alive. The years had been kind to her. Fine lines accentuated her
expressions, but her bright blue eyes were brimming with youth—the kind
that the soul carried throughout the years.
I sat there for a long moment, controlling my breathing to ease the pain of
a bruised rib. But my heart was pounding. I’d been carrying an image of her
in the back of my head for days, now, a snippet of her I’d seen in a distant
memory that had reemerged in my dreams.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she said, smiling.
“Am I not looking at one right now?” I breathed, my eyes wide and my
mind stunned.
She offered me her hand. I gripped it and, in an instant, felt a flurry of
emotions rush through me, much like a spring that had just broken through a
rock wall. There was concern and affection, warmth and… the sheer joy of
seeing me. I gasped, overwhelmed by the sensations.
“Your Empathy must be intense,” she replied. “Then again, I do wear my
heart on my sleeve.”
“How are you here? How did you find me? Where have you been?” I
bombarded her with just some of the questions I had.
 She chuckled, then helped me up. I groaned from the rib pain but
managed to stand on my own. The adrenaline was still pumping through my
limbs, but I was pretty sure I was going to suffer a lot more later. I’d been
slammed left and right back there, after all.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, frowning as she measured me from
head to toe.
“I’ll live. What was… Seriously, what did I just go through?”
“A wormhole. It’s one of my abilities. Extremely rare and highly sought
after by the darker elements of our magical society. I’m one of two who can
open such portals,” she explained. “There’s a membrane that permeates
everything, the same in which we build our covens. I am able to cut open
these little holes and slip through them. Space is relative to me.”
“So… We just traveled through a wormhole.”
“More like tumbled,” she replied, her lips stretching into a smile. There
was so much of her that reminded me of my father, I could almost feel my
heart tearing. “Harley, there isn’t much time. You need to jump in the first
cab and head straight for the coven. You are much safer there.”
“Yeah… No. Not until you tell me what the hell is going on,” I shot back.
“Have you been following me?”
She sighed. “I’ve been watching you for a while,” she said. “I’m sorry I
didn’t come to you sooner, but I’m a wanted magical, Harley, and not by the
covens. Dark forces are at work, and they’re after my Portal ability. I’m
extremely valuable to certain people, and my portals could lead to many
unnecessary deaths if I let them take me, which is why I’ve been under the
radar and presumed dead.”
I nodded slowly. I supposed I could understand the reasoning behind her
decision to vanish. It didn’t make me feel any better, but I could see how a
magical like her could be used by the likes of the Ryder twins—or, worse,
Katherine Shipton.
“How long have you been tailing me?” I asked.
“Since you came to the coven. The moment you were discovered I had
eyes on you. I have friends there and in many other places… quiet, discreet
people who know how to send me a message when my attention is required,”
she explained. “I’ve kept my distance for your own safety. We can’t be
together in the same place at once for too long, Harley. My very presence
puts you in even more danger. You’ve got your plate full enough as it is.”
 “Those were the Ryder twins back there. Do you know them?” I asked.
She nodded. “I’ve seen them before. They’ve never met me. They’ve
been looking for me, but I’m old and seasoned enough to steer clear of them.
They were after you, Harley. Katherine is like a cat, now, playing with her
food. You’re her dinner.”
Anger and grief blazed through me. Some of it was mine, but Isadora
shared my feelings. We’d both lost family because of that witch. But then it
hit me: Isadora just confirmed the connection we’d been suspecting already.
“So, the Ryder twins are working with Katherine Shipton,” I concluded.
“Yes. She’s the one who stopped them from showing up at their new
covens. She recruited them,” Isadora said. “She’s planning something, and
the Ryders have a role in it. So do the young magicals that were abducted.
Some joined her willingly.”
“Kenneth Willow,” I murmured.
“That’s right. She’s gathering an army of rogue or undiscovered
magicals. She’s reaching out to the new ones who have just moved to San
Diego, as well. She’s trying to get the Neutrals on her side, too. And the
Ryders are just some of her recruiters. She’s got spies infiltrating most
covens, including yours. Eyes and ears everywhere. I’ve been trying to find
out who’s working for her, but they’re all very good at covering their tracks,”
she replied.
“They’ve been leaving cards for us,” I said.
“I know. They’re a message to you, specifically, Harley. They want you
to know what they’re doing. They want you to know you can’t stop them. It’s
psychological warfare. They’re trying to get into your head and destroy your
morale. They’re doing it because they’re afraid of you. Katherine wants you
to suffer. She wants you dead. Not because you mean much to her—no one
was ever worth much in her life. You’re a problem she needs to get out of the
way.”
“But why? I don’t even know where she is!”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re smart and inquisitive. You’re determined and
ambitious. And, Harley, the power inside you… it scares her.”
I scoffed. “I’m suppressed.”
“I know, Harley. I’m the one who helped your father with the Dempsey
Suppressor.”
My blood ran cold. “Wait, what? You were in on that?! Why’d you let
him do that?!”
She sighed. “We had no choice at the time, Harley. You were like a little
nuclear reactor, incredibly easy to detect. Your abilities were already
manifesting. We had to do whatever we could to keep you safe and hidden.
Katherine was on the loose, your father was a wanted man… You weren’t
going to live if you were found at the time. I’m sorry,” she replied, then put
her hands on my shoulders. “I promise, I’ll come find you, and we’ll talk
about everything. I will answer all your questions in due time. Right now,
you need to go. The Ryders will be getting out of that time lapse in a few
minutes, and they’ll be looking for you. The one thing they’ve been unable to
do is get close enough to kill you. Tonight, they almost succeeded.”
I thought about it for a moment, trying to wrap my head around this new
and troubling development.
“When will I see you again?” I asked, afraid to let her go.
“I’m not sure, Harley. There’s something I need to take care of, first.
People to see. Some things to put in place,” she said.
“Did you know about Jacob and the Smiths?”
“I did, yes. Jacob is extremely rare and valuable, as well. He’s got the
street smarts he needs to keep a low profile. The Ryders don’t know about
him. They want you. You’re their next target.”
“How do you know all this?” I replied.
“I’ve been trailing this whole operation for years, now, Harley. As best as
I could, anyway. I don’t have all the facts yet. I knew it was only a matter of
time before Katherine would resurface again. Finch was just the beginning,”
she explained. “She’ll be testing you, poking and prodding until she gets a
chance to kill you. So, please, I may not have been around for most of your
life, and I will never forgive myself for having had to keep my distance,
but… Please, just listen to me on this. Go back to the coven and watch your
back.”
My throat tightened. “What about Jacob? I’m afraid to leave him with the
Smiths, especially after the Cranstons.”
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” she said, giving me a reassuring smile. “You
keep doing your job and helping the coven. You’ve got a good team working
with you. I think you’re all more than capable of taking the Ryders down. But
don’t do it alone. Don’t go anywhere alone, either. It’s for the best.”
“I… I don’t know what to say,” I breathed.
 A taxi pulled over just fifty yards away, on one of the roads that outlined
Waterfront Park. The driver honked twice. Isadora exhaled, seeming to
recognize the guy behind the wheel.
“That’s your ride, Harley. Go,” she said.
I frowned. “Huh? You already called me a cab?”
“He’s one of my go-to guys,” she replied. “His name is Dicky, and he’s
very efficient. He’ll give you his card, if you need to use his services in the
future.”
“Wait, is he human or magical?” I asked.
“Human.”
“And he knows about us?” I croaked, making her laugh.
“Relax, Harley. He’s good. Don’t worry about it. Just go, honey, please.”
I glanced over my shoulder, checking the car. The engine was on, and the
driver was gazing straight ahead, patiently waiting.
“What really happened to my mom and dad?” I asked Isadora, my voice
shaky. “I need to know.”
“Don’t believe everything you’ve read in the newspapers,” Isadora
replied bluntly. “I can’t tell you much right now, but I can point you in the
right direction. There’s a curse, an ancient spell called Sál Vinna. Look it up.
You’ll understand more once you read about it. Now, go!”
She stepped back, then put her hand out. Her ring lit up green once more
as she opened another portal—this time, the slit was longer and vertical. I had
a feeling the quality of the wormhole depended on how much time she had to
open one. Back by the bus stop, she’d only had a second to work with, before
the Ryder twins came after us.
“I’ll see you soon, I promise,” she said, and vanished into the wormhole.
The air rippled as the portal dissipated, leaving me all by myself on the
edge of Waterfront Park.
The taxi honked again.
It was time to go.
 TWENTY-FIVE

Harley

icky was surprisingly quiet. I figured it must’ve been one of the reasons
D Isadora kept him around. After everything I’d witnessed, I found it
difficult to think any human could really deal with the magical world. Sure,
some of the foster parents we’d met were aware that their kids were special,
but that didn’t mean they were anywhere near ready to accept the existence of
an entire secret society. Hell, the Cranstons had just been killed because they
were raising a magical son.
Yet as Dicky drove his cab down the streets of San Diego, he felt calm
and serene. He wasn’t terrified of me. He seemed wary, at most—probably
his survival instinct still adjusting to our existence, but his head was properly
screwed on his shoulders.
“So, you’ve known Isadora for a long time?” I asked, my voice dry and
raspy.
As I slumped in the backseat, I understood just how sore I was going to
be in the morning. It reminded me of the gargoyle incident, the pain
disturbingly similar—like being hit by a bus, repeatedly.
A thousand thoughts were shooting through my mind, and I figured I
could strike up a conversation with Dicky to find out more about this other
aunt of mine. There was so much I didn’t know, and so many mysteries she
could clear up if only I had more time with her.
“Uh-huh,” Dicky replied, keeping his eyes on the road.
 He was in his mid-forties, with a receding hairline and rebellious brown
curls at the back. He smelled of Old Spice—which was better than the
olfactory disaster that was his cab. Someone had recently eaten Indian in the
back.
“And, um, you know about magicals, from what she told me,” I said,
hoping I’d get him to say more.
“Uh-huh.”
A moment passed in awkward silence.
“You’re not going to tell me anything about what you’ve seen or heard
about Isadora, are you?” I asked.
“Nope.”
“All right…” I muttered, sinking farther into the backseat.
I knew a zipped mouth when I saw one, and I wasn’t good at drawing
blood from stone. Dicky was clearly under instructions: don’t tell the girl
anything, just drive her to the coven.
By the time we reached Fleet Science Center, nightfall stretched its starry
sky over the city in deep shades of indigo. There were barely any souls out—
a couple of late-night joggers doing their usual routes around the museum,
and the nighttime security guards.
“How much do I owe you?” I asked Dicky, who waved me away.
“It’s paid for. Don’t worry about it, kiddo.”
There was an affectionate familiarity in his voice. As if we’d met
before… or better yet, as if he knew me. “Have we met?” I asked, narrowing
my eyes as I tried to get a better look through the passenger window.
“Go on, go in,” he said. “It’s not safe out here.”
“You don’t seem scared,” I remarked.
“I’m not the one being hunted by Shapeshifters, tootsie-roll. Have a good
evening!”
He drove off, leaving me outside the Center with a baffled expression.
“What in the world is happening?” I breathed, as if hoping the universe
would answer.
Nothing made sense when taken apart. However, when I put it all
together, there seemed to be a narrative I hadn’t thought about before. Of
course, without a confirmation that the Ryders and Katherine Shipton were,
indeed, connected, I wouldn’t have been able to generate a clear picture of
what was going on.
 After failing to sabotage the Bestiary with Finch’s help, Katherine was
looking for new ways to screw with us. We’d captured Finch before he
released the heavyweight monsters. We’d only had a swarm of gargoyles to
deal with, which, in hindsight, seemed easier than, say, any of the Gorgon
sisters, Leviathan, or Echidna. The Bestiary was riddled with ill-intended
creatures of raw Chaos, and some had been loose for long enough to become
the stuff of human legends. Some, like Quetzalcoatl, had been worshiped as
gods. Others, like the changelings, had scared the daylights out of the Middle
Ages.
But we’d gotten that under control. The Bestiary was safe, and Finch was
in Purgatory.
Katherine had recruited the Ryders to help her as well, and they struck me
as much more evil and vicious than Finch. Heck, the Ryders made Finch
sound like an angry teenager. They’d been circling around the rogue magicals
in the city, grooming the parents or the kids… or both, in some cases, so they
could get them out of their homes.
They’d left cards for us to see, to taunt us.
Then, they’d killed the human parents and stolen the kids. Some, like
Kenneth Willow, had joined them willingly. Others, like Marjorie Phillips,
had run away from them. Either way, they seemed central to Katherine’s plot.
She was planning something against the covens, and she needed these kids
for some reason.
It hit me then that maybe we had overlooked something about the
children’s abilities. There had to be a method to this madness. A reason for
Katherine to want specific young magicals. She definitely got her intel from
inside our coven, and that further confirmed that we still had a spy in our
midst.
Jacob, for the time being, was safe. But for how long?
The Ryders had tailed me extremely close to the Smiths’ place. What
were the odds that they’d find them next and use them to get at me? I
couldn’t bear the thought of losing them or Jacob, so I decided to talk to
Alton and Wade about all this. They needed to know.
My stomach churned as I thought of Wade. I wondered whether he hated
me, and whether he would ever forgive me for my insistence on keeping the
magical kids with their parents. I was mad at myself, but, in retrospect, I
knew there wasn’t much else I could’ve done to prevent the tragedy. I had a
feeling that the Ryder twins would’ve found a way to get to the kids even if
we’d brought them to the coven.
Looking at the whole picture, the pattern of a well-designed plan came
fully to light in my mind. Katherine had calculated everything, down to the
last detail—including our movements, coven protocols, and reactions. They
knew what we were going to do and when. That mattered for
counterintelligence operations, which was our next step. We had to stop the
leaks from endangering other kids.
A twig broke as I walked toward the staff entrance of Fleet Science
Center, prompting me to shoot a glance to my left.
Standing by the water fountain in Balboa Park was Jacob, wearing a
concerned look on his face. I gasped, understanding that my evening had not
yet run out of surprises.
“Jake, what… what are you doing here?” I whispered, checking our
surroundings to make sure nobody saw us.
He motioned for me to follow him, then darted off behind a line of trees
on the edge of the park.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I cursed under my breath and ran after
him.
He waited for me beneath a sturdy oak tree, one of the park’s newest
additions, an import from a nearby nature reserve and part of the mayor’s
initiative to “green up this city.” Jacob was nervous, and he was giving me
the jitters.
“Are you okay?” he asked me, genuinely concerned.
While it warmed my heart to see and feel him worried about me, there
were still some gaps he needed to fill. I gave him a brief nod. “I’m fine,” I
said. “Why do you ask? And what are you doing here?”
“I saw what happened,” he replied, his voice low.
A couple of seconds passed before I registered that particular morsel of
information. “Wait. What? You were out by the bus stop?” I asked, and he
nodded, guilt adding a reddish pink to his cheeks. “You were following me,
weren’t you? You were following me at the Hamms’ place, too. What’s up
with you? Seriously!”
He sighed. “I just wanted to see what you were doing… what you’re
like,” he mumbled. “I’m good at hiding my tracks, in general, so I can just
look at people without them knowing I’m watching.”
 “Like a professional stalker.” I scoffed.
“Sort of.” He chuckled nervously. “I’m sorry. I was… I don’t know, I had
a bad feeling when I saw you leave earlier. I just wanted to make sure you got
home safe.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “And here I am, worrying about your safety and
wellbeing,” I said. Then I frowned. “So, you saw the Ryder twins attack me.”
The color drained from his face. Dread clutched my throat—all his.
“Those were the Ryders,” he gasped. It was my turn to nod as I carefully
analyzed his reaction. “I’d heard about them, but I’ve never met them.”
“What? You made it seem like you’d never heard of them before!” I
snapped.
Jacob shrugged. “It takes a while for me to trust people. I decide what
information I give, and whether it’s a risk for me. Right now, I’m taking a
chance on you, Harley.”
I stared at him for a long moment, not sure whether to stay angry or
accept his reply as a compliment. Finally, I breathed out and muttered,
“Thank you, I guess. Better late than never. So, about the Ryders. What have
you heard?” I pressed.
“The other unregistered rogues are terrified of the twins. Some are
considering joining the coven just to get away from them.”
“What about you?” I asked, making a mental note of his relationship with
unidentified magicals. It could come in handy later if I persuaded him to join
our coven. A boy with his knowledge was valuable and could be used to do
good—provided he was in the right hands. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell
Alton or Wade about him, because I knew that once word got out about
Jacob, the SDC might not be able to keep him. Strings could be pulled, and I
didn’t want Jacob to be taken away from me. Or the Smiths, for that matter.
He deserved a home and a family, dammit.
“I’m keeping a low profile, I told you,” he replied.
Well, it wasn’t too low of a profile, in my opinion. Isadora knew what he
was. That, too, could help us later, where Jacob’s protection was concerned.
“Jake, you saw what happened. You know what the twins are capable—”
“Which is why I didn’t come out to help you,” he cut me off, hurting
deeply. “I’m so sorry for that. I wanted to help you, I did, but I couldn’t let
them see me and… well, they’re way too powerful for me.”
I let out a heavy sigh. “I get it. You did the right thing. It’s better they
don’t know you, trust me. Is that why you came all the way here? Because
you wanted to—what, apologize for not getting involved in my encounter
with the Ryder twins? Do the Smiths know you’re out? Did you take a bus
here?”
He shook his head. “I snuck out the window and hailed a cab.”
“Hold on, that doesn’t make sense. How’d you know to come here?” I
asked. “I basically vanished into thin air back at the bus stop.”
Jacob pressed his lips in a thin line. “Isadora has a message for you,” he
said.
My knees were ready to give out. Yet another piece of the puzzle was
falling on top of me, and I had no idea where to place it in this enormous
mess. I ran a hand through my hair, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly
in an attempt to keep my cool.
“You know Isadora Merlin,” I said in a low tone.
“I didn’t know you were acquainted,” Jacob replied with a shrug.
“We have the same last name. You knew that. I told you tonight! Didn’t
the thought occur to you? How many Merlins can there be, in this day and
age, in the same city at the same time?!” I snapped. “Jeez, kid. Come on,
you’ve got to be more open with me here!”
“She helped me keep my head down, okay?” Jacob said, visibly
frustrated. “She taught me how to keep certain abilities under control. I owe
her a lot. She’s part of the reason why I’ve been off the coven’s radar for so
long, Harley. I only realized you were connected when you told me about
your family and what happened to them. But I also promised Isadora I’d keep
my mouth shut about her.”
“You were just sticking to your promise,” I replied with a sigh, and
resisted rolling my eyes. “Okay. I get it. So what did Isadora say? She
could’ve told me earlier, but heck, we’re here now, so, shoot!”
“She wants you to keep me a secret,” he said. “You have spies in the
coven. The moment I’m out, identified, and registered, I’m fair game, and not
just for Katherine Shipton. My abilities make me very… desired, I guess.”
“You’re better than a mountain of gold, yeah,” I retorted. “I know. Ugh.”
“She gave me a charm,” he added, holding up a small silver medallion.
“The moment I’m in trouble, I can let her know. You’ve seen how quick she
can get from A to B.”
I snorted. “Yeah. Got my first-hand experience of the wormhole, sure.”
 “Point is, she’s got her eyes on me,” he continued. “She needs you to
focus on catching the Ryders before they take other kids. She says they’re
key to preventing Katherine Shipton from doing something terrible. Though,
she hasn’t said what that is, exactly.”
“Ah, good to know she’s just as cryptic with you.” I shook my head in
frustration. “Fine, I’ll keep my mouth shut about you, Jake, but the moment I
get so much as a whiff that you’re not safe, I’m hauling your ass to the coven.
Is that clear?”
Jacob looked somewhat baffled. “Why do you care so much about what
happens to me? Is it because of this Shipton lady?”
My throat closed. Tears were threatening to rise. “I know what it’s like to
wander aimlessly through the foster system,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I
know what it’s like to be alone and not know if things are ever going to get
better, especially with those abilities. You don’t fit in anywhere, you can’t
trust anybody, and… I lived through all that, okay, Jake? I lived through all
that, and more. Finding the coven was incredibly confusing at first, but it
gave me a sense of purpose and direction I’d never thought possible. I just
want you to have a better shot at tackling this whole magical thing than me.
As much as I love the Smiths, I’m just worried they’re not enough for you. I
would’ve given anything to find the coven sooner, now that I think about it.
So, yeah, Jake, I care. I want you to be safe and happy. That’s all.”
I sensed him immediately warm up on the inside, a pang in my heart
signaling that I’d definitely flipped a switch inside this young warlock. My
statement had struck a chord, and I was glad for it.
“So keep your head down, going forward,” I added, trying to think of a
reasonable way to get the coven to help us without exposing Jacob. That was
the real challenge.
“You should be careful, too,” Jacob muttered. “If there are spies in the
coven, they’ll have their eyes on you. Whatever this whole thing is about, it’s
a problem for you, too.”
“Tell me about it.” I chuckled nervously, then gripped his shoulder. “Go
home, Jake. Keep that pendant on you at all times, and put my number on
speed dial. Be good, and we’ll get through this. Most importantly, don’t talk
to strangers.”
“Sure, Mom,” he responded with a childish pout, making me smile.
“Think of me as the annoying older sister, Jake. I promise to be that kind
of pain in your ass. Now, go!”
I watched him walk out of the park and head for the main road back into
town. He stayed in the shadows, light on his feet. My heart thudded as
everything began to sink in. Too many things were happening at once, and I
still couldn’t get Susan and Larry’s dead faces out of my head.
Despite the handful of answers I’d gotten, along with the incredible
surprise of Isadora still being alive, I had even more questions and very few
people whom I could trust to ask. Going over what had happened throughout
the day, I managed to identify the first item on my to-do list—that spell
Isadora had told me to research.
It was about my father.
 TWENTY-SIX

Harley

headed straight for the Forbidden Section, before anything else, positive I’d
I find something about Sál Vinna in one of those journals and spell boxes.
All the secret, sensitive, and powerful stuff was in there, and I doubted
Isadora would’ve made me research a hair growth spell or something equally
harmless. My incident with the Ryders could wait a couple of minutes before
I brought it to Wade and Alton. Hell, my bruises could wait, too! My father’s
life and demise had taken center stage since Isadora’s tip, and I had little
control over that. I needed to find out.
This had to be some of the heavyweight stuff that magicals went to jail
for, and it had to do with Hiram Merlin. I was determined to get that out of
the way quickly so I could move on and gather the courage to seek out Wade.
I needed to talk to him. Or maybe just listen to him yell “I told you so!” in
my face, over and over, until he got it out of his system. I just couldn’t bear
the thought of angry silence between us. It didn’t feel natural.
As soon as I touched the doorknob, preparing to whisper the opening
spell, Wade’s voice made me freeze.
“You’re back,” he announced, standing in the middle of the hallway a
few yards away from me.
I hadn’t seen or heard him, nor had I felt his emotions. Either he was
getting better at concealing himself around me, or I was too focused on the
spell to even notice him. His deep green eyes were dark, his expression firm,
and his jaw snapped shut. I could cut a pineapple with those cheekbones.
He was still wearing his dark gray suit, though he’d lost the tie and
released a couple of buttons on his white shirt. Despite his stern appearance,
he seemed weary. I didn’t want him to be angry—he didn’t want that, either.
I could feel it in the pit of my stomach. He just wanted to talk, and I was
terrible at apologizing. My heart fluttered nervously as I tried to think of a
decent answer. Nothing seemed right, though.
“Yeah. It’s been a long day,” I replied, almost whispering. “I’m… I’m
sorry I bailed on you earlier.”
He blinked twice, then glanced to his side. “You didn’t bail. I was
perfectly capable of taking care of the rest. You weren’t needed.”
“Yeah, well, still. I’m sorry, okay?”
My hands were shaking. He noticed, and a painful sensation settled in my
chest.
“What are you sorry about, exactly?” he asked. “I told you, you didn’t
bail. The job was practically done, and I briefed Alton on everything.”
“I’m… I’m sorry for insisting that Micah stay with his parents. I’m sorry
for thinking a couple of charms, traps, and an Orisha could stop the Ryders
from hurting the Cranstons. I’m sorry I let my past as a foster kid get in the
way of my rational thinking. It got Micah’s parents killed. I’m… I’m just
sorry,” I gasped, tears clouding my vision.
Wade didn’t say anything for a while, but the grief and discomfort were
absolutely there, burning inside him. I just couldn’t make out the rest of his
emotional makeup. Maybe I couldn’t focus because I was being eaten alive
by guilt.
“We all agreed to it,” he finally said, snapping me out of my misery. “I
had no right to be mad at you alone for this. We all agreed it was a good idea,
to smoke the Ryders out. Alton said yes. We all share the blame in what
happened to the Cranstons and the Devereauxes.”
I lost my breath for a second. “The Devereauxes?” I croaked,
remembering their name from Alton’s list. “You mean Ted and Lucinda
Devereaux. Louella was the suspected magical… They’re dead, too?”
“Yes. The Ryders hit them too. They killed the parents, but from what
Tatyana gathered at the crime scene, they didn’t get Louella. She ran away,”
Wade replied. “They might’ve caught up with her, but we don’t know for
sure.”
 “Oh, no.” I choked back a sob, covering my mouth with my hand.
The bodies kept piling up, and I didn’t know how to cope with that. I
wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to the concept of people being murdered. Wade
came closer, his brow furrowed with concern.
“We were too late to talk to them. Don’t blame yourself,” he said, his
voice lower than usual and peculiarly soothing. “The Ryders clearly have a
plan, and we’re one step behind them.”
“It’s still… so horrible,” I breathed.
“What happened to you? You look like a mess,” he said, clearly
concerned.
Where could I even start to explain everything that had happened to me
after he’d left me at St. Clair’s? I offered a weak smile, but somehow, the
words had trouble coming out. And he didn’t insist, as if he’d guessed my
ragged state of mind.
In fact, for a moment, I thought his arms would reach out and wrap
around me. I wouldn’t have said no to his embrace. Really, I needed to feel
his warmth. I couldn’t help but remember the time he’d taken me in his arms,
lifting me from the infirmary bed and gently settling me in the wheelchair,
shortly after I’d woken up from my gargoyle bonanza. My pulse raced as the
air seemed to thicken between us.
We were separated by only a few inches, but Wade didn’t seem like he
was going to do anything to curb my longing for his embrace. He was
conflicted, and I couldn’t spend any time trying to figure him out. I had too
much to deal with already.
“Bit of a long story,” I finally said. “I’m okay, though. Nothing broken.”
“Not sure I’m satisfied by that answer,” he replied, but let it pass. He
cleared his throat and nodded at the Forbidden Section’s doors. “What were
you doing here?”
“Um. There’s a spell I wanted to look up. I’m pretty sure it’s in there,” I
replied.
“What spell?”
“Sál Vinna,” I said.
He frowned. “It doesn’t sound familiar. But you don’t need to waste your
time in there trying to find it. Text it to Astrid. She recently connected
Smartie to the coven’s physical archive. She can fish the spell out for you.
Smartie can’t be hacked, and only she has access to it, so that took care of our
previous archive fears.”
“Oh. Thanks,” I murmured, and quickly proceeded to type a message for
her. A second after I hit send, I looked at Wade. “Wouldn’t Alton know it if I
told him about it?”
Wade shrugged. “I’m not sure. He’s not a walking encyclopedia. You
could try, but it’s a little late to knock on his door now. You should get some
sleep, too,” he said.
The clarity I’d lacked earlier about what I’d gone through this evening
had finally come back to me. I had Astrid on the spell, so I could focus on the
Ryder twins.
“I have to knock on his door anyway. I need to talk to you and Alton,” I
said. “Now.”
“Did something happen?” he asked, cocking his head to one side.
I breathed a sigh of relief, finally accepting that Wade hadn’t been angry
at me, specifically. He’d been furious with all of us, including himself,
regarding the Cranstons—and, as he’d just revealed, the Devereauxes. We
hadn’t been on the ball with the young magicals, and the Ryders had
practically stolen the game from under our noses.
“I met the Ryder twins,” I said.
Dread hit him like a cold wave.
He nodded once, then gripped my wrist and escorted me to Alton’s office.
It was close to nine p.m., and it wasn’t a surprise that Alton was still there,
skimming through a pile of old books.
“Wade, Harley, what are you two doing here?” he asked, raising his
eyebrows.
We reached his desk and sat in the two guest armchairs in front of it.
“Tell him,” Wade said to me.
I took a deep breath, carefully going through the string of weird events in
my head, to make sure I didn’t bring up Jacob. If Isadora was right and there
was a spy in our ranks, I had to be careful. At this point, I wasn’t worried
about Alton or Wade being the moles—I trusted them with my life. But for
all I knew, someone else could be eavesdropping. The coven wasn’t safe. For
the time being, I decided to keep Jacob to myself, just until I could find out
more about what was going on.
“After I separated from Wade, I took some time out to get my crap
together.” I sighed. “I suppose you’ve been told about everything that
happened today with the Cranstons and the others?”
Alton leaned back into his chair, curiosity blooming in his eyes. “I’ve
made sure we have eyes on each of the families on that list,” he replied.
“What’s wrong, Harley? You seem—” He paused and narrowed his eyes at
me. “Are those scratches?”
I touched my face and cringed as soon as I found the small cuts on my
temple, previously concealed by my hair. Wade’s hand shot out and caught
my chin, forcing me to look at him. He frowned as he brushed the hair aside
and discovered the scratches.
“You got hurt,” Wade murmured. His touch made my skin tingle.
Focus, Harley.
“It’s nothing serious. A couple of painkillers will take care of most of it.
I’ll sleep the rest off.” I pulled myself back and shifted my focus to Alton.
“So, as I was saying, after I was left on my own, I took some time to just mull
things over. I was about five or six blocks away from St. Clair’s Café, at the
bus stop, ready to come back here. The Ryder twins either found me or
followed me there. We… We had words.”
Alton’s forehead smoothed. I shook the shivers away and relaxed in the
armchair. My ribs were still sore, the pain pulsating through my chest.
“They attacked you,” Alton whispered.
“And then some!” I chuckled nervously. “They’re vicious, Alton. Literal
killing machines. Emily’s a Herculean with Telekinesis, and Emmett has
Fire. That’s on top of their Shapeshifting. Oh, and they’re pretty good with
what I assume were deadly curses. I dodged a few bullets back there.”
“But you escaped,” Wade replied. “How?”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence and for assuming they kicked my ass,”
I shot back, slightly irritated. “Granted, that assumption would be correct.
They beat me six ways from Sunday and were seconds away from killing me,
when I had some… unexpected help.”
I took another breath, waiting for the pain in my ribs to subside. My
hunched position wasn’t helping, so I slowly shifted my weight, leaning to
my right. I closed my eyes for a moment, thankful to breathe properly again.
“Well? What happened?” Alton blurted, clearly on the edge of his seat.
“Isadora Merlin happened,” I replied. “She showed up out of nowhere,
opened up a wormhole, and transported me to Waterfront Park.”
Both Alton and Wade were stunned.
 Alton was the first to speak, his eyes wide with shock. “Isadora’s alive.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said.
“And she’s a Portal Opener?” Wade added, staring at me in sheer
disbelief.
“Ahem,” I said, nodding. “One of two in existence, according to her.”
“Two?! They were supposed to be extinct. We thought the ability died
with her,” Alton replied.
“You assumed she was dead.” I sighed. “She’s not. And she saved my life
back there.”
“Did she tell you anything? Where has she been this whole time?” Wade
asked.
I raised a hand to stop them both from asking the same questions I’d
already tried to ask Isadora. My head was about to explode.
“She didn’t say much. But she did emphasize how dangerous it was for
her to be around me. She’s wanted by some pretty dark magicals, apparently.
Including Katherine Shipton, who, by the way, is definitely working with the
Ryder twins. She’s orchestrating this whole thing with the magical kids, and
she’s toying with us,” I said. “She’s doing it on purpose. Having the
Cranstons and the Devereauxes killed, stealing some of the kids and
recruiting the others. She’s planning something big and bad, Child of Chaos
stuff, but Isadora doesn’t know what, exactly. She’s looking into it.”
“You let her go?!” Wade said, mildly annoyed.
I rolled my eyes at him. “Seriously, Crowley? I just got my ass handed to
me by the Ryders. Do you really think I had any strength or skill to take on a
seasoned witch who can open friggin’ portals in the fabric of space?” I
snapped, raising my voice.
Wade went silent but didn’t take his eyes off me.
“Fair enough,” Alton cut in. “What else did she say?”
“She said I shouldn’t believe everything I’ve read in the newspaper
archives about my father, then gave me a spell to research. Sál Vinna,” I
replied.
Hope sprouted somewhere in the depths of my soul, and, for a split
second, I could’ve sworn it wasn’t just my feeling. Something told me that
both Wade and Alton were hoping that there would be more to Hiram and
Hester Merlin’s story than what they already knew.
“I asked Astrid to find me some information about it,” I added.
 “Good. Let me know what you uncover,” Alton replied. “It sounds
Icelandic in origin. And the Northerners are not known for their light and
positive spell-work. In the meantime, I’ll double security on the families on
our list. If Katherine is behind all this, we must expect the worst.”
“Okay… Listen, there’s one thing that’s been bugging me,” I said,
worried about the magical kids we could still bring back here for protection.
“Don’t you think we should bring the families and the kids in and keep them
safe here? I mean, haven’t we learned anything from the Cranstons?”
Alton pinched the bridge of his nose. “I want to, believe me. But like I
said to Wade earlier, I have direct orders from the Mage Council now to keep
them where they are and look out for the Ryders,” he said. “I had to confer
with them on the matter after we learned about what happened with Kenneth.
Humans nearly died because of magic. Special protocols require that I inform
the Mage Council about it. They were adamant that we leave the families
where they are and do our best to secure them remotely. They want the Ryder
twins caught at all costs.”
“And they want you to keep the kids and their parents in the crossfire,
even after all that’s happened? Seriously?” I asked, still alarmed by their
reasoning.
“It’s the best way to catch the Ryders, especially since they’re clearly
circling in. They won’t dare come after the coven again. We’ve strengthened
security here,” Alton said. “Listen, I don’t like it either. But this wasn’t my
call, and we can’t disobey them. If anyone else gets hurt, that blood is on
their hands.”
“Ugh! The Mage Council sucks!” I groaned with frustration, but then
tried to blow out a calming breath. There was clearly no point ramming my
head against this issue any longer. “Okay. So, we can’t do anything about the
families. What next, then?”
“We have APBs out on the missing kids,” Wade said. “We’ll monitor the
police comms and scan the city’s CCTV resources as well. We keep an eye
on the families and the remaining magicals. And we dig deeper into the
Ryders and Katherine Shipton. That’s all we can do at this point.”
“Well, that and look into Isadora Merlin. A Portal Opener is an absolute
gamechanger for us!” Alton replied. “She could be of incredible help. Can
you reach out to her, Harley?”
I shook my head. “No. She’ll find me when she deems it safe enough.
She’s very cautious, Alton.”
“When she does get in touch, let me know, okay?” Alton said.
The request made me nervous. “I will, but… what are you thinking?”
“I need to talk to her myself, Harley. No matter what,” he replied bluntly.
Whether it had anything to do with my parents or not, I couldn’t tell for
sure. But doubt was definitely creeping up on Alton. He was worried about
something. Unfortunately, I wasn’t a Telepath. To my surprise, I didn’t even
know such an ability existed until this mission.
I found it irritating how I wasn’t told a lot of pretty important things,
despite the training and magical courses. I was picking things up as I went,
and I didn’t like that. It felt as though I was being kept in the dark on
purpose.
 TWENTY-SEVEN

Tatyana

here wasn’t much for us to be happy about after the grim discoveries we’d
T made throughout the day. But when the infirmary called to tell us that
Dylan was awake, smiles bloomed on all our faces.
Santana, Raffe, Astrid, and I went to check on him in the evening after
the nurses and Krieger cleared him for visits. He was pale and sluggish, but
he was recovering nicely from the beastly curse. The moment he saw me
come in, however, Dylan’s brows drew into a dark frown and he looked
away.
“You shouldn’t be near me,” he mumbled.
“Oh, don’t give me that crap!” I said, smiling. I was determined not to let
him be consumed by guilt. “You’re functional again. That’s what matters.”
“I almost killed you!” Dylan insisted, shifting his gaze back to me.
A brief yet awkward silence followed as Raffe, Astrid, and Santana
exchanged glances.
“Dude, it happens to the best of us,” Astrid said. “You were just the one
to take the hit this time around. That’s all.”
“I’m sorry,” Dylan murmured, his eyes fixed on me.
I gave him a soft smile, my heart tingling with relief. Dylan was going to
be okay. He was strong and resilient, and the coven wouldn’t have been the
same without him.
We’d both come to San Diego around the same time. Though, we were
both so different. I came with hefty magical baggage, while Dylan had been
plucked out of the human world, after having slipped through the cracks of
the foster system. I was a relatively seasoned witch, while Dylan was still
coming into his own as a warlock. I was frosty and kept most people at arm’s
length. Dylan, despite his shyness, was warm and kind and open with
everyone who crossed his path. He was like daylight, and I was the darkness
of the night. Still, it was this exact contrast that made us work.
We got along better than most. And we never really had to say much for
one to understand how the other felt.
Which was why, despite his frowny face and pouted lips, I knew that,
deep down, Dylan was just happy to see me. I moved closer to his side, while
the others settled at the foot of his bed. There were dark rings under his eyes.
IV tubes went into his arms—next to us, bags of fluids and vitamins quietly
dripped into his veins, building him back up, one milliliter at a time.
“You have nothing to apologize for, Dylan,” I whispered. “There was
nothing you could’ve done to beat that curse. You were incredibly strong,
enough to hear me, just before I gave you the cure. I know you did your
best.”
“I could’ve killed you,” he replied. He sounded like he was in a lot of
emotional pain—perhaps more than the physical exertion provoked by the
curse itself, and it hurt me inside, too. “I was out of control.”
“That was the purpose of the curse, Dylan. To make you lose control,” I
said. “Enough with the self-flagellation, already!”
He chuckled, then grimaced from the physical discomfort.
“How are you feeling?” Raffe asked, keeping his arms crossed.
Dylan grinned. “I think I’m doing better than you!”
Indeed, Raffe wasn’t looking his best, but he was extremely good at
keeping his darker nature hidden. He had his own demons to deal with, and,
sometimes, it spilled out into the physical plane. Raffe’s eyes were almost
black, sheltered beneath black brows. The difference between a “Good Day
Raffe” and a “Bad Day Raffe” wasn’t easily noticeable, though. Those of us
who spent more time with him were able to tell.
“Do you need us to help you with anything?” Raffe replied, brushing
Dylan’s observation away. “Anything at all?”
“I’m good, thanks,” Dylan muttered. “Just sore and embarrassed, really.”
“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” I reiterated. “That was heavy-duty
dark magic that Kenneth Willow used on you.”
He sighed. “Any news on the jerk? Have you tracked him down yet?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. He’s in the wind.”
“I’ve got his photo and physical description in the system, statewide,”
Astrid replied. “We’ll know if he pops up anywhere on the grid. Until then,
we just keep our eyes open. There isn’t much else we can do.”
“Man, I can’t believe I got my ass kicked like that by a seventeen-year-
old,” Dylan grumbled, rubbing his face with his palms.
“You’re nineteen yourself. It’s not like the age gap really makes a
difference,” Astrid said, slightly amused.
“Normally, I’d agree with you, but I’m a Herculean. We’re supposed to
be more agile. You know, fast enough to not give anyone the opportunity to
take us down with a curse. Especially not a kid,” Dylan said, pursing his lips.
I covered his hand with mine, squeezing gently. He looked up at me, his
gaze softening on my face. “Kenneth had a morbid ace up his sleeve. Dark
curses don’t care how strong or fast you are, Dylan.”
He nodded, and my pulse quickened. Then, out of nowhere and in no way
commanded by my brain, my hand pulled back. My stomach hurt with
frustration, and a familiar, yet uncomfortable weight settled on my shoulders.
Every muscle in my body hurt, my joints bucking under the pressure.
That was Oberon’s doing. For some reason, he didn’t like me touching
Dylan, and it irritated me to the point where I mentally pummeled him,
throwing a flurry of Russian curse words at him. His chuckle echoed in my
ears, while Dylan stared at me, frowning.
Sorry, Taty… I forgot you were behind the wheel, Oberon said.
Well, that wasn’t something the likes of Oberon could easily forget, and it
was extremely annoying to experience—since the deal had been for me to
always be in control. I had to keep my guard up, it seemed. At the first sign
of relaxation or weakness, a spirit could slip into the front seat and bump me
to the back. I couldn’t let that happen.
“Are you okay?” Dylan asked me, his voice low.
“Yes. All good. Don’t worry about me. Focus on yourself,” I replied,
feeling the fake smile stretching my lips.
“Yeah, we need you back, buddy,” Astrid interjected. She gave me a
warning look, then groaned and moved her focus back to Dylan. “We’ve got
Garrett until you get better.”
 “Ugh! No! Why?” Dylan whined.
“Well, he’s very good at what he does,” I replied. “And he’s familiar with
our cases. I’ll take Garrett over Poe or Mont-Noir any time!”
“Wouldn’t you rather have me back, instead?” Dylan quipped.
“Absolutely!” I laughed. “Which is why you need to eat your veggies,
listen to Krieger, and get yourself back in shape as soon as possible. Garrett
may be good, but he’s still quite insufferable.”
Santana scoffed, crossing her arms. “Yeah, tell me about it.”
“Hey, you don’t have to work with him. Consider yourself lucky,” Astrid
replied, grinning.
“Fair enough. I only dated him for a few weeks. Ew…” Santana
grumbled.
Astrid’s phone beeped. “Oh, got a little bit of research work from
Harley,” she said. Her eyes nearly popped out of their orbits as she read
through the rest of the message. “Holy crap, she had a run-in with the Ryder
twins!”
Shivers ran down my spine, and dread gripped me as flashbacks of the
Devereaux crime scene came back to haunt me. The Ryders were absolutely
horrible magicals—the kind that even the worst of my ancient Vasilis family
looked down on. My great-great-grandparents were historically recognized
villains in their own right, responsible for the deaths of many, and even they
would’ve disapproved of the Ryders’ dirty methods.
“And she lived to tell the tale,” Raffe breathed. “I think our little Merlin is
not done surprising us.”
“Wait till they get that Dempsey Suppressor off her!” Santana said.
“Alton is sending an updated report shortly,” Astrid went on. “I’ve put
the spell Harley sent me through the system, but it’ll take a while before I get
some results back. In the meantime, we should all get some rest.”
We all nodded in agreement. I gave Dylan a weak smile. I wanted to tell
him, Raffe, Santana, and the rest of our team about Oberon’s presence, but I
knew they would overreact. On one hand, I appreciated their concern, since
they only wanted what was best for me. However, as a Kolduny, I had to
improve my ability to hold a spirit inside me and keep it under control. That
only came with practice, and Oberon was the perfect exercise. Plus, he’d
promised to help me. He knew I’d kick him to the curb if he didn’t come
through.
 I had Slavic blood running through my veins. I didn’t respond well to
waffling. My skin tingled—a silent nod from Oberon, telling me he’d gotten
my message.
No waffling. I promise, he whispered in the back of my head.
Then deliver. You promised you’d put me in touch with spirits who know
more about the Ryders, I replied in my mind.
I’m having a little trouble finding them, but I will. I swear, he said.
I instinctively rolled my eyes in response, prompting Dylan to narrow his
eyes at me.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
I shook my head. “All good. In fact, everything is much better now that
you’re awake,” I said, smiling.
I would tell him after my work with Oberon was done. Until then,
however, I had to juggle the outside world and the balance I was trying to
maintain on the inside. Carrying a spirit within me did take its toll on my
energy.
 TWENTY-EIGHT

Tatyana

e left Dylan to rest and went our separate ways for the rest of the night.
W The next couple of days passed in bone-crushing tension. We kept
an eye on the other magical families we’d discovered in San Diego. There
were charms in place and security magicals tailing each kid, twenty-four
hours a day.
There was no sign of the Ryder twins, though. After their attack on
Harley, they seemed to have simply vanished. We knew, however, that it was
only a matter of time before they’d pop up again. Their job wasn’t done.
There were still innocent magical kids out there, and, if Harley was right,
they were all a part of Katherine Shipton’s plan.
Of course, we didn’t know what that plan was, or when she or her
minions would strike again. There was no sign of Kenneth Willow or
Marjorie Phillips. Micah Cranston was still missing, too, and the magical
community of San Diego was on a general high alert. We were lucky to have
additional security forces from the Los Angeles Coven, by order of the
California Mage Council. They’d been sent over shortly after the gargoyle
incident, and there were plenty of them to also help us keep track of the
magical kids who had yet to move into the coven.
We didn’t like having them out there in the open, but we knew we
wouldn’t get a better chance to catch the Ryders without them.
Dylan was close to making a full recovery. I had a feeling he’d be out of
the infirmary by morning. Astrid was busy monitoring all channels for any
sign of the Ryders or the missing kids, while also waiting for her Smartie
system to return some information on Sál Vinna, the Icelandic spell Harley
had mentioned.
On top of it all, we were checking the archives and old CCTV footage
from the San Diego area, looking for images of Isadora Merlin. Alton had
asked us to look into her and find out where she’d been and what she’d been
up to. Needless to say, that was an incredibly difficult task, since Isadora
seemed to be quite the expert at hiding her tracks.
Much like Katherine Shipton.
On Wednesday night, I was still languishing in one of the archive rooms,
looking through a pile of journals and newspaper clippings, trying to find
something on the Ryder twins and Katherine Shipton. But something was off.
Entire pages were missing from some of the notebooks. Certain articles had
been torn from their slots.
“This isn’t right,” I murmured, flipping through a fifth journal.
I was the last one in the hall, except the nighttime clerk, of course, who
was huddled at her small desk all the way on the other side. I had enough
privacy to talk to Oberon without anyone thinking I’d lost my mind.
Somebody didn’t want you to dig up information on these people,
obviously, Oberon said, his voice echoing in my head.
“That would mean we’ve got Katherine’s people inside the coven,” I
replied, frowning. “Or maybe Finch cleaned these pages out during his two-
year tenure here.”
By that logic, Finch knows the Ryder twins. Oberon sighed.
“He’s untouchable while he’s in Purgatory. They won’t let anyone near
him.”
What are you looking for in particular?
I exhaled, pulled my hair into a loose bun, using one of the bands I
always carried around my wrist, and proceeded to check online maps, using
the few snippets of information I’d gathered so far.
“Possible hideouts, for the most part,” I murmured. “They’ve got to have
some kind of base of operations in town. Without a Portal Opener, they’re
dependent on the usual modes of transportation, and, based on how quickly
they get from one part of the city to another, they must be somewhere in San
Diego.”
 Ah… Finally! Oberon exclaimed. Close your eyes, darling. There is
someone here to see you!
I looked around, checking to see if anyone else had come into the hall.
Fortunately, it was still just me—well, us—and the clerk, who was gradually
dozing off in her seat. I closed my eyes, welcoming the darkness of the veil
as it unraveled around me.
“Did you find who you were looking for?” I asked Oberon.
“And then some!” he replied, his voice becoming clearer and sharper as I
descended into the spirit plane.
I looked down and noticed Oberon’s spiritual form visible over mine, like
an iridescent glaze of sorts. I hadn’t paid attention to myself back at the
Devereaux mansion, but I could definitely see how those spirits had been able
to spot him.
“This is still weird,” I said.
“Well, I don’t want you to feel suffocated, darling,” Oberon replied, and I
could feel him smiling. Needless to say, this partial separation between us,
even though we were still occupying the same space, made me feel less
anxious about his presence in me.
Above us, dozens of wisps hovered around the room—spirits of magicals
that had died in this interdimensional pocket, warlocks and witches whose
lives had either come to a natural end or had been cut short. No matter how
many times I saw them, it always felt eerie to watch.
One of them approached us. The closer it got, the better I could see it.
It was a girl. Medium height, slender, with long brown hair and hazy blue
eyes… semi-transparent, like the others, but somewhat more colorful, as if
her spirit was stronger. She wore a pair of jeans and a white flannel shirt.
There was a large bloodstain on her chest. I figured it was her cause of death.
“What are you doing here?” the girl asked, scowling at me.
“Do I know you?” I asked her, confused.
“I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to the arrogant dweeb you’ve got
inside you!” she retorted. I’d already forgotten that spirits could see Oberon
riding along in my meatsuit. “What are you doing here, Oberon? I thought I
told you years ago that this hall was off limits!”
“Helen, please don’t be such a grouch!” Oberon replied, chuckling. “You
can’t let a bad date define the rest of our relationship, darling. We could be
looking at an eternity together.”
 Oh, these two clearly had history, and it made me blush. This was getting
awkward, fast.
“I’d rather burn in hell forever,” Helen snapped.
“Then move on, sweet cheeks,” Oberon retorted.
“Hey, guys… still here,” I said, raising a hand. I smiled at Helen. “I’m
Tatyana. And sorry you have to deal with Oberon. Though I’m not sure what
happened between the two of you—”
“I’ll tell you what happened!” Helen hissed. “Oberon thinks that no
means yes. I had to kick him in the nuts, twice, to make him understand that,
in fact, no means no.”
Oberon’s embarrassment burned through me, pumping more heat into my
face. Clearly, he wasn’t proud of what he’d done.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I replied. “I had no idea Oberon was such a
prick. But he is helping me right now, Helen—and it’s extremely important.
Lives are at stake.”
She raised an eyebrow. “So, that’s how you called out to me, Oberon? By
hitching a ride inside a Ghost-Whisperer?”
“A Kolduny,” I muttered.
“Same thing. Different name,” Helen said, crossing her arms.
“Helen, please. You know I’ve kept my distance like you asked. It took
me forever to find you again, and trust me, it doesn’t give me any pleasure to
have to reach out to you. But we do need your help,” Oberon said.
Helen stared at me for a long moment, then let out a sigh of defeat. “Fine.
What do you want?”
“You knew the Ryder twins, didn’t you?” Oberon asked. “I know you
mentioned them a couple of times, since… you know, since you’ve been
around.”
I found myself intrigued by how even dead people tiptoed around their
condition. Death was never an easy word to work with, it seemed.
“Yeah, I knew them back in the Houston Coven, before I moved here,”
Helen replied. Only then did I finally identify her accent—that Texan drawl
that spoke of hot summers and spicy barbecues.
“You were in the same coven,” I said. “What can you tell me about
them?”
Helen put on a sad smile. “They were decent kids, you know?
Thoroughly misunderstood, from the beginning. They wanted to be good, but
the other magicals didn’t like them much,” she explained. “Some looked
down on foster kids in general. They were picked on a lot. I was one of the
few who knew about their Shapeshifting abilities. I caught them changing
into two of our preceptors at the time. They begged me not to tell anyone. I’m
not the kind of girl to gossip, so I kept my mouth shut.”
“What happened in Houston then? What got them kicked out?” I asked.
“They crossed a line,” she said. “To be honest, those bullies had it
coming. They’d been tormenting Emily and beating the daylights out of
Emmett on a weekly basis. The twins just had enough one day. They
snapped. They shifted and infiltrated the bullies’ group and set them up with
a very dangerous curse. They nearly killed three magicals.”
“Whoa,” I breathed.
“Like I said, those guys did deserve some punishment, but what the twins
delivered was far too extreme. Besides, the curse they used was forbidden,”
Helen replied. “There was an investigation, and a couple of weeks later the
Ryders left town. I never saw them again.”
What Helen had just told me wasn’t crucial information, but it did shed
some light on what might’ve triggered the Ryders to descend into such brutal
darkness. I was well aware that some people were just born with a
predilection for violence and evil, but there had to be turning points—
switches one could flip at various points in their lives. The Ryder twins were
victims of their circumstances, all right, but the choices that followed were
theirs and theirs alone.
“Did you ever see them in San Diego?” I asked.
Helen shook her head. “If I did, I wouldn’t have recognized them. By the
time I moved here, they’d already gone AWOL after their third strike in
Albuquerque. They would’ve shifted to stay under the radar. It’s one of the
reasons why magicals are wary of Shapeshifters. Most of them don’t mean
any harm, but not knowing who they really are or who they can turn into…
that doesn’t sit well with anyone. And the Ryders did plenty of damage
before falling off the edge of the Earth, if you know what I mean. They
certainly didn’t help diminish the stigma.”
A second spirit came closer, a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair
and brown eyes, stocky and still wearing his bathrobe. He’d died in it. Poor
thing. He stopped by my side, staring at a fixed point in the darkness,
specifically where my laptop was in the living plane.
 “What’s up, Martin?” Helen asked the spirit.
“I overheard you and couldn’t help but step in…” Martin replied. He bent
down to get a better look at my laptop’s screen, then remarked, “If that’s
where you’re looking for the Ryders, you’re wasting your time.”
“Huh? You know Emily and Emmett?” I asked.
“I sure do,” Martin grumbled. “I gave them shelter before I moved to the
coven. I’d only been in San Diego for a month at the time.”
“Oh, wow,” I gasped, exhilarated by the prospect of a new lead. “What
happened?”
“Nothing much,” he replied. “They were quiet and mostly out of the
house. Didn’t give me much trouble. They begged me not to tell anyone that
they were in town. They creeped me out, though. Honestly, they could be
really scary sometimes. Given that I’d opened my door to them, I didn’t want
to risk it, so I kept my mouth shut. After I got registered with the coven, I
snuck back into my own house while they were out, packed a bag, and
skedaddled out of there. I was safer here!”
“When was that?” I asked.
“About three years ago, give or take. I don’t keep track of time in death.
It’s useless.”
“And what happened to your house?” I replied.
“Oh, I sold it,” he said. “I called the cops first and told them I had
squatters in there. It was enough to send the Ryders away. Afterward, I got in
touch with a realtor and got rid of the place. It wasn’t safe anymore.”
This sounded more like the Ryders I knew. I took a deep breath, trying to
imagine them as they shared a house with Martin. I got goosebumps.
“You were saying something about locations, I think?” I asked, drawing
his focus back to my laptop and the notes I had up on the screen.
He nodded, chuckling. “They won’t be using an interdimensional pocket,
sweetheart. That takes Bestiary energy. The managing coven would be
immediately notified if they did. They’d need approval from the California
Mage Council for that.”
“So what should I be looking for?”
“Warehouses. Abandoned properties. That kind of stuff,” Martin replied.
“Judging by the location of all your new magicals and crime scenes, I’m
thinking they’d be holed up somewhere in Chula Vista, close to the water and
the freeway. Easy access into the city and close enough to the ocean for an
escape route. Based on the rumors that have been circulating through the
spirit world, those kids have built quite the criminal operation. I should know,
I was a prosecutor for the San Diego Coven for twenty years,” he added.
I gave Martin a grateful smile, my pulse quickening as new opportunities
emerged in my mind regarding the Ryders’ potential location. “You’re a
genius, Martin. Thank you.”
He laughed. “Yes. Gone too soon, I’m afraid!”
“How did you both die, if you don’t mind me asking?” I looked at him,
then at Helen.
Martin sighed. “Heart attack. I was just getting ready for a bath.”
“As evidenced by my shirt, I got stabbed,” Helen said.
“I’m sorry, for the both of you,” I replied. “Do you know who did it,
Helen?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said, scowling at me. “Absolutely. It was—”
Everything vanished, all of a sudden. I was back in the living plane. The
darkness and the spirits were gone. My laptop was right in front of me, and
Oberon’s spiritual weight was crushing me again. I panted from the effort as I
pushed back and took a deep breath, but I managed to overpower him.
“What the hell, Oberon?!” I croaked. Beads of sweat trickled down my
face.
We got everything we needed from those two, don’t worry, Oberon said,
once again echoing in the back of my head. Now I think you need to tell your
computer whiz kid about Chula Vista.
My chest tightened as I worried that he’d cut me out of the spirit plane on
purpose.
“What didn’t you want me to find out?” I asked, gritting my teeth. Anger
bubbled up in my throat. “I’m not stupid, Oberon!”
A few seconds ticked by in heavy silence. I thoroughly disliked it.
“I can always go back and look for Helen,” I said.
I’m to blame for what happened to her, Oberon said quietly. The
bitterness in his distant voice was obvious. He felt guilty. Helen and I got off
on the wrong foot. Bad date, like I said. But after that, we patched things up.
I introduced her to some of my friends. You know, she was new in the coven,
needed to form some social bonds and stuff. One of them… Well, one of them
killed her in a fit of rage. I didn’t know he had all that darkness inside him. I
actively encouraged her to go out with him, to stay with him, even when she
told me that she felt there was something off about him. We found her in her
room a few days later with a knife in her chest. I never forgave myself for
that. And neither did Helen.
The candor was refreshing. Though, truth be told, I wasn’t sure if that
was completely my own reaction, or if he was messing with my emotions.
Either way, there wasn’t much I could do for the time being. I figured I’d
have him around to help me deal with the Ryder twins, then eject his lying
ass with a little help from my favorite Santeria witch. I slowly relaxed,
allowing him to settle in my head again. His voice became a little clearer.
I just didn’t want you to know what a failure I was, as a man and as a
friend, he added. I’m sorry.
“It’s fine, Oberon. Just stop hijacking my body. It’s not just
uncomfortable, it’s scary. Stop doing that, okay? You pulled my hand away
from Dylan the other day, too. You have to hold back. This isn’t what we
agreed on.”
You’re right. Forgive me, Tatyana.
For a dead guy, he sure had his charm. It didn’t work on me, but I could
see others falling for it. There was no point in a conflict with the ghost that
had hijacked my body, just yet. “If you keep taking over like that, you’ll give
us away to Santana or Raffe. Those two won’t hesitate to tell Wade and Alton
about our agreement, and that will buy you a one-way exorcism back to the
spirit world. I’m trying to watch out for the both of us here.”
I appreciate that, Oberon said.
I could feel him watching as I wrote an email to Astrid, asking her to look
into the Chula Vista area for any warehouses or abandoned properties, based
on Martin’s assessments. My gut told me that we were one step closer to
finding and bagging the Ryders before they could do any more damage. Too
many people had suffered already.
The more time passed, despite Oberon’s outbursts, the more I knew I
needed his strength. After Harley’s account of her encounter with the Ryders,
it became clear that I required a spirit’s power to face off with those two.
Luckily, I already had a Herculean nesting within.
My heart felt heavy, though. The same intuition that pointed me toward
the Ryders was also warning me about Oberon. Something was off about the
way he’d tried to take over. I didn’t like that.
I reacted foolishly with Dylan, Oberon said, reading my mind. It’s been
so long since I’ve felt anyone’s touch, Tatyana. And, right now, I’m feeling
every fiber of your body. I can’t begin to describe what that’s like. I got
jealous. Forgive me.
He was tugging at my heartstrings with that statement, making my cheeks
flush.
“It’s okay,” I muttered, clicking the send button.
Let’s get you some fresh air, Oberon whispered. It’s gorgeous out there
by the dragon fountain, at this hour.
I couldn’t shake the uneasiness of his presence, but the end, to me,
justified the means. I took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. A walk
sounded nice.
 TWENTY-NINE

Harley

hile Astrid was busy digging up that Icelandic spell and looking for any
W sign of the missing magical kids or the Ryders, I had a small task to
cross off my list. There wasn’t much else I could do, since Jacob refused to
put me in touch with Isadora, and I couldn’t find any other useful information
on Katherine Shipton in the archives. Nothing I’d come across would help me
smoke the witch out.
Dinner with the brooding studs was as awkward as I’d expected it to be.
Wade, Garrett, and I sat in silence at one of the tables at Carluccio’s. I’d
ordered the ricotta cannelloni, Garrett had opted for pizza and fries, and
Wade had gone the extra mile of pretentiousness and went for the arugula
salad with parmesan shavings. Most of the food was just getting poked and
pushed around our plates as we all tried to restart the conversation.
Our previous attempt had died off when the plates were first brought to
the table. Though, the eerie silence had more to do with Wade’s rebuttal of
Garrett’s contributions to our current investigation than the food’s arrival. In
his opinion, Garrett was “a whole lot of talk and little to no action.”
“The pasta’s good,” I mumbled.
They both looked at me as if I’d just farted.
Maybe this was a bad idea, after all.
“Salad’s not half bad, either,” Wade conceded. His angst made my
stomach clench, my appetite dwindling with each minute that went by.
 Garrett chuckled. “Didn’t peg you for a salad type of guy.”
“We’re both different people now,” Wade retorted. “Well, I am, anyway.
You’re always different people.”
I got confused, fast, as I realized that I was sitting on a gunpowder keg
with these two, and that Wade had just lit the fuse. The boom was coming.
“What… Um, what are you talking about?” I asked, my voice barely
audible.
“You’re still hung up on that, huh?” Garrett said to Wade, virtually
ignoring me. “Here I am, trying to reestablish a communication channel, and
you’re stuck in the past. Really, Crowley? After all these years?”
Oh, I was definitely missing some crucial pieces of information here.
“It’s not something you easily forget,” Wade replied, glowering at
Garrett.
“Well, you haven’t made it easy,” Garrett answered.
I had a front seat view of their dashing profiles—each of them handsome
and gorgeous in his own way. Wade’s features were dark and sharp,
highlighted by his sea-green eyes, the black curls on top of his head, and the
smooth blade of his nose. In contrast, Garrett’s short dark hair, azure eyes,
and devastatingly cute dimples offered me another type of beautiful, the kind
that was accustomed to breaking hearts.
Yet both of them were incredibly dysfunctional, perfectly evidenced by
their fraught friendship. Something had definitely happened between them—
that much I knew. I had a feeling I was about to find out what, exactly, and I
was on the edge of my seat.
No way I’m finishing my cannelloni.
“You two need to bring me up to speed here if I’m to mediate anything,”
I interjected. “You promised.”
Garrett gave me a brief sideways glance, then smiled. It irritated Wade. It
was such a shame that I couldn’t feel Garrett’s emotions, too. I was willing to
bet they spoke volumes.
“As you probably know, Wade and I go way back,” Garrett said. “We
were best friends at one point. Our parents are still close. Our dads are on the
Texas Mage Council, after all. We were tight.”
“Yeah, I’m aware of that,” I replied. “So, who screwed things up?”
Wade and Garrett stared at each other, until Garrett laughed lightly,
shaking his head. “That would be me.” He chuckled and nodded at Wade.
“Go on. We had an agreement not to talk about it, but I’m dying to tell her
what got you all riled up. But you should do it. I want to hear your version of
events.”
I groaned with frustration as another minute passed. Wade’s anger and
shame were bubbling beneath the surface, poking me right in the head.
“Oh, come on,” I grumbled.
“Seven years ago,” Wade said, not taking his eyes off a slightly amused
Garrett. “You should’ve told me…”
“I kind of did,” Garrett replied, stifling his laughter.
“Garrett is a Shapeshifter,” Wade said in a low tone, his jaw locked. I
found myself staring at Garrett in pure disbelief. “I suppose you didn’t know
that,” he added, and I shook my head, unable to look away. “Yeah.
Shapeshifters tend to be secretive about it. I told you about that.”
I nodded. “Who else knows?”
“Just Wade, our closest family members, my previous coven director, and
Alton,” Garrett replied. “Well, Astrid and Tatyana recently found out. I told
them. Oh, and the other Shapeshifters in our coven. Alton introduced me to
them, though I kind of knew about most of them. We can sense one another
sometimes. It’s a bit hard to explain. Not that many people know, let’s leave
it at that.”
“We were best friends, and Garrett didn’t think I deserved to know the
proper way,” Wade continued. “You know the proper way, right? Where you
sit your best friend down, and you tell them you’re a Shapeshifter. No.
Garrett decided to shift into Melanie Williams…”
Garrett covered his mouth, struggling not to laugh out loud. He looked
like a boy who’d just put a whoopee cushion on the teacher’s chair and was
waiting for the poor guy to sit down.
“Melanie was his crush,” he said, grinning at Wade. “He was thirteen,
and Melanie was sixteen. She was tutoring him in Alchemy and Magical
Chemistry. Once a week, every Sunday evening.”
Wade exhaled sharply, doing a remarkable job of keeping his cool. He
was boiling inside. I was going to hear a teakettle whistle, soon enough.
“One Sunday evening, Melanie came over as usual,” Wade took over.
“I’d been working up the courage to ask her out for ice cream. She showed
up in a beautiful summer dress. I’ll never forget it. It had an orchid pattern on
one side. Her strawberry-blonde hair was loose and perfectly straight. And
she kept smiling at me. It took me an hour to finally pop the question. To my
shock, she said yes, then gave me a peck on the lips,” he added, then frowned
at me. “Just so you know, this information is strictly between the three of us.
Tell no one, or I will skin you alive.”
I held my breath, my eyes nearly jumping out.
“Okay,” I managed.
“It was my first kiss,” Wade said. That was such an endearing thing for
him to say, but I braced myself for the reveal. Deep down, I kind of already
suspected what was coming, so I focused on keeping a straight face instead.
“It meant the world to me. Remember, I was thirteen, and girls weren’t really
my field of expertise at the time.”
“When were they ever?” Garrett croaked, before pressing his lips into a
thin line. He was terrible at concealing his amusement.
“Shut up,” Wade snapped, then shifted his focus back to me. “Thing is,
that wasn’t Melanie who kissed me. I found out the hard way when, one
minute later, she shifted into Garrett. He was laughing like an idiot, and I felt
—”
A chortle escaped my throat. I instantly covered my mouth with both
hands. I felt terrible for him. It must’ve been a horrendously jarring
experience. But, at the same time, being on the outside and looking in, I had
to admit—it was hilarious.
Wade’s icy glare made me swallow my laughter altogether.
“Come on, buddy. Tell her everything,” Garrett prompted.
Wade’s glare remained on me for another handful of seconds, before he
swallowed hard and continued, “I had a bad reaction when I understood that
Garrett was a Shapeshifter. I admit that I said things I wasn’t proud of,
though he certainly could have found a better way of breaking the news to
me.” His eyes snapped back to Garrett. “Regardless, it drove a wedge
between us, and we’ve picked on each other repeatedly ever since.”
“Basically, he never missed an opportunity to fry me like Southern
chicken, and I kept shifting into his girlfriends,” Garrett said. “We were both
kids at the time, but we managed to carry the flame well into adulthood, as
you can see. Crowley’s ego is the size of the damn Bestiary, and I’m not one
to say sorry more than once. So, there you have it, Merlin. The scoop.”
A minute went by in awkward silence. I tried to measure Wade and
Garrett against each other. Garrett had screwed up with the Melanie
Shapeshifting thing. Wade had said some hurtful things. Then they just kept
going after each other, until it became their second nature to sort of hate each
other. I guessed I could see that happening.
I sighed. Boys.
“Well, I… I’m sorry that happened to you, Wade,” I murmured. His eyes
still felt like they were drilling holes into my skull. “But you are both
responsible for this mess you two are in, friendship-wise,” I added, looking at
Garrett.
“I said I was sorry! But he never apologized for the bigoted things he said
to me,” Garrett replied.
“I was angry and humiliated!” Wade spat. “I needed time to cool off, but
you didn’t give it to me. Instead, you just kept shifting into even more people
I liked! I felt I could never trust you again.”
I guessed I understood where he was coming from, and all of a sudden,
this wasn’t as funny as I’d initially perceived it. I had to put myself in the
shoes of a thirteen-year-old boy to get that. Then, a different thought
wandered into my consciousness and got stuck in the middle of my mental
corkboard of facts and musings about the Ryders.
“Plus, I was hurt that I had told you everything about myself, even things
I didn’t tell my parents,” Wade added. “And there you were, keeping a
massive secret like that. We’d promised each other to never keep secrets. You
knew for more than two years at the time that you were a Shapeshifter, yet
you chose to keep it from me. Not only that, but you decided to reveal it
through a, might I add, very cruel prank. And saying sorry meant nothing
when you kept impersonating the girls I was dating.”
Garrett chuckled softly. I felt the urge to smack him—that was mostly
Wade, but I had an itch of my own, too.
“And you two seriously never talked about this?” I asked.
“I guess we were too busy being angry at one another,” Garrett muttered,
crossing his arms.
“What the hell did you expect?” Wade asked. “You messed with my head
in ways that would send normal kids straight into therapy!”
“But you were never a normal kid. I thought you could take it. Besides,
how many times did I have to draw my eyebrows on with a damn pencil
because you burnt them off, you vengeful jackass?”
“I was your friend, Garrett. Your friend. I deserved better,” Wade said.
 I lost my focus for a moment, as the thought I’d just had was coming
back with a vengeance, sending a wave of alarm through my body.
“Hold on,” I cut in. “Pause the bromance for a second. Garrett, you’re a
Shapeshifter.”
“Stating the obvious,” he replied.
I looked at Wade. “I can’t feel him. Just like I couldn’t feel Finch. Who’s
also a Shapeshifter,” I said. “Riddle me this. Is O’Halloran a Shapeshifter,
too?”
Wade straightened his back. He could clearly see where I was going with
this. He nodded, and I broke into a cold sweat. “Very few people in the coven
know, but yes. He’s a Shapeshifter.”
“I can’t feel him, either,” I breathed, the realization smacking me over the
back of my head. “Preceptor Bellmore?”
“Yup,” Garrett said. Wade seemed equally shocked by this revelation.
Garrett smirked. “You didn’t know, huh, Crowley? Well, it doesn’t surprise
me. We tend to keep a tight ship. We even have a support group,” he added,
then looked at me. “I told you. There’s a stigma. This general consensus that
we can’t be trusted. The likes of Emily and Emmett Ryder aren’t helping.
Ever since it became public knowledge the other day, it’s gotten even tougher
for us. Bad rep’s a doozy.”
“Imogene Whitehall… I can’t feel her, either,” I said.
“That, I don’t know, but I’d be inclined to say yes, since there’s clearly a
pattern here,” Garrett replied.
“You can’t feel Shapeshifters as an Empath,” Wade concluded. “That’s…
interesting, to say the least.”
“You can detect us, when others can’t,” Garrett added, his eyes widening
as it sank in. “Oh, damn.”
“Yeah,” I murmured, taking it all in.
For some reason, my instincts tugged my mind back to Jacob in that
moment. Given his abilities, the Ryders would’ve stopped at nothing to get to
him. I figured I could check up on him a bit more often, just to make sure he
was okay. After all, those Shapeshifters could literally be anyone.
“We both blew this, didn’t we?” Wade asked Garrett. “Our friendship, I
mean.”
“I guess. Never thought I’d say it out loud,” Garrett replied.
“Yeah, me neither,” Wade mumbled.
 They kept talking, somewhere in the background of my consciousness,
probably addressing the Shapeshifter thing, but I was busy texting Jacob.
He didn’t text back, so I tried calling instead. Five rings later, it went to
voicemail. I called again. Five rings. Voicemail. It didn’t feel right.
My instinct was now telling me to go check on him, and I never ignored
it. I was incredibly uneasy about him and the Smiths in general, with the
Ryders prowling.
What if they’re already there, watching somewhere? Waiting to snatch
him? They kill human parents. The Smiths are sitting ducks.
My stomach churned, and I rose to my feet, surprising both Wade and
Garrett.
“Sorry, I have to go,” I said.
“What’s wrong?” Wade asked, visibly concerned.
“Nothing. I think. There’s something I need to check,” I replied, then put
my hands on his and Garrett’s shoulders. “You two need to get over this
animosity between you. Sure, Garrett withheld something important from you
and chose the wrong way to tell you about it, then went and did it again and
again, like the idiot that he clearly is,” I added, scowling at him, then shifted
my focus back to Wade. “But you clearly didn’t give him a chance to
properly explain his poor choice of prank, either. You said unforgivable
things, and you never apologized. Instead, you indulged his grudge and made
it worse, until your friendship was clinically dead. You were both dumb and
proud kids. But you’re grownups now. So start acting like it. The past is the
past, and you can’t change it. Let it go, already.”
I left them there, gawking at me, and hurried out of the restaurant. That
was all the time and energy I was going to put into a broken friendship.
I had work to do.
My Empath ability allowed me to detect Shapeshifters. That was
incredibly important, because it could help me identify the Ryders, too, going
forward.
First and foremost, however, I needed to make sure Jacob was okay. I
couldn’t let anything happen to my Smiths, and I certainly couldn’t let those
Shapeshifting bastards take Jacob away from us.
As I rushed out the door, I barely even heard Wade’s rushed reminder
that I wasn’t advised to go anywhere on my own, thanks to my brush with the
Ryder twins. I couldn’t let him or anyone else from the coven find out about
Jacob.
And I didn’t need a babysitter. Not when I knew that Isadora Merlin had
an eye on me.
 THIRTY

Harley

icky was a godsend for me, and I owed Isadora a bottle of something
D good for bringing him into my life. I had his card, and ten minutes after
making the call, Dicky showed up outside Fleet Science Center.
“Hey, Dicky,” I said, as I climbed into the backseat.
He watched me in the rearview mirror and gave me a friendly nod.
“Where to, Miss Merlin?”
“Forty-ninth and Heller, please.”
“Ah, Jake’s new place,” Dicky replied.
Of course he knew Jacob, since they were both tied to Isadora somehow.
There was still a lot I didn’t know about her and her connections, but I had to
admit, I was a little more at ease knowing there were eyes on Jacob at all
times—or, so I hoped.
Dicky was an excellent driver, too. I wished I had his reflexes behind the
wheel as we darted through the city and made our way to the Smiths’ place.
I tried calling Jacob again, but still no damn answer, just that automatic
voicemail.
The lights were out when we got there. Everybody was probably asleep
already, since it was past ten p.m. and they all had an early start in the
morning. I probably shouldn’t have been surprised they didn’t pick up the
phone.
The neighborhood was equally quiet and dark, which was one of my
favorite aspects of living in the area. I was a bit of an old soul, and my eyes
got droopy by eleven p.m. I’d certainly enjoyed the tranquility during my last
two years as a ward of the state.
I was still wound up tight, though, worried that something might’ve
happened to Jacob and the Smiths—or that something was about to happen.
The Ryders were out here, on the loose and pretending to be other people.
The potential danger was all too close to home.
Dicky pulled up outside the Smiths’ house and turned the engine off.
“You know, I checked on him this morning. Everything was okay,” he
said calmly, just as I opened the car door. It didn’t mean Jacob was okay
now.
I waited for a second before replying, genuinely befuddled by the man.
“Out of curiosity, how are you so cool and totally not freaked out about us?”
I asked.
Dicky chuckled. “I get where you’re coming from, but you should
know… Not everybody would flip out if they found out about the existence
of magicals. Sure, there would be an adjustment period. Some extremists here
and there. But the people, Miss Merlin, the people are inherently good and
understanding. It’s the government you want to be afraid of.”
“Fair enough. How’d you get involved, then?” I asked. Dicky was chattier
than the night before—perhaps he was warming up to me—and I wanted to
take advantage of it.
“Isadora was in trouble. I helped her. I begged her not to wipe my
memories. I proved myself useful. We’ve been working together ever since,”
Dicky replied. “I love driving, I’ve got no kids to worry about, and I want to
help her. It’s a no-brainer for me.”
“How long have you been helping her?”
“I lost track. Maybe twenty years.”
I nodded, then got out of the car. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Take your time. I’m here.”
I couldn’t help but smile as I snuck around the house. It was good to
know that there were people like Dicky out there, who did the job and didn’t
ask questions. Most importantly, it made me feel as though I wasn’t really
alone in the world—granted, I had the coven, but I lacked the family
connection to them. Isadora’s reemergence, along with Dicky, an
impressively chill human, somehow made everything better. I had a hard time
explaining why, even to myself. It just felt right.
During my two years at the Smiths’, I’d learned to expertly climb in and
out of my first-floor bedroom. I used to go out a lot, at night, to try and better
understand my abilities. I needed a more secluded green space to do that,
where I didn’t have to explain why an oak tree had suddenly popped out of
nowhere, for example. I didn’t have full control over my Earth Elemental
ability then, and frankly, I was still getting the hang of it now.
I climbed the rugged masonry siding of the house, pulled myself up, and
made my way across the slanted slate roof, careful not to make any sound.
Jacob’s room (previously mine), was dark and seemingly quiet. I moved
closer to the window and peered inside.
I could see him sleeping, sprawled across the double bed. His emotions
were soft and fluid, like everyone’s while in a dream state. I got a sense of
longing and fear, but also happiness and relief. The mixture was something I,
too, had experienced at his age. It came with the territory as a foster kid.
Heck, I still felt that way sometimes. The life spent hauling a black bag from
one home to another tended to leave a mark on us. We never outran that kind
of loneliness, no matter how good the foster family was. We’d always feel
unwanted, mainly because our own parents couldn’t or didn’t want to raise
us.
Pleased and incredibly relieved to see that he was okay, I sent him
another text, reminding him of our six p.m. meeting the next day. We’d
agreed to hang out and hash a few things out about where he came from and
what he knew about Isadora. Or, at least, what he could tell me about her. I
was dying to find out more about this aunt, since the other one had turned out
to be a raging psychopath.
I saw the phone light up on his bedside table, but he didn’t react. He was
going to wake up to it in the morning, along with the previous text, six
missed calls, and two voicemails.
My fear subsided, at least temporarily, as I’d seen he was okay with my
own eyes. The fact that I could feel his emotions was also downright
soothing, given what I’d just learned back at the restaurant.
I climbed off the roof and checked the backyard. It didn’t take long for
me to find the protective charms. Isadora had most likely left them. She’d
hidden one in every potted plant, and she’d painted small symbols on the
corners of the house, too. I went around the property and checked the
decorative ferns by the front door. She’d left tiny leather pouches in there as
well.
I slipped back in Dicky’s cab and asked him to take me back to the coven.
The ride back was quiet. Not because I didn’t have more questions for
him. I totally did. But I was too busy racking my brains and trying to
remember everyone whose emotions I’d been unable to sense. The
conclusion was the same. They all had to be Shapeshifters. There was just no
other reasonable explanation.
Jacob could sense magicals, but he wouldn’t have been able to tell me
what kind of magicals they were. This was as close as I was going to get to a
“natural” magical detection method—at least until Krieger finished his
prototype, based on Adley’s research.

Dicky dropped me off in the parking lot outside Fleet Science Center and
drove off into the night. I watched the red taillights shrink in the distance, lost
in the late-night traffic leading back into the city—a river of twinkling
crimson eyes.
As soon as I turned around to go in, I yelped and leapt back a couple of
yards, startled by the tall, dark figure standing between two cars. It took me a
second to realize it was Wade.
“Whoa! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!” I snapped, catching
my ragged breath.
My heart had nearly jumped out through my throat. Wade didn’t say
anything, keeping his hands behind his back. Only then did I notice that one
of the cars he was standing between was his Jeep, the other covered by a
black tarp.
“I was waiting for you to come back,” Wade finally replied.
“You could’ve texted,” I said.
“Where’s the fun in that, when I get to scare the daylights out of you?” he
retorted, slightly amused. My heart was still thumping—but this time, it was
because of Wade. He was nervous… excited, even.
“Ah. So, you are a sadist. Just like I’ve been saying,” I retorted.
He gave me a half-smile, then let out a deep sigh. “I wanted to thank you
for tonight,” he said. “It was eye-opening, to say the least.”
“Don’t mention it,” I replied. “It’s not like I did much. Someone just had
to sit you and Garrett down for an hour.”
“Well, you were the first to see past his… difficult nature. Others usually
tend to walk away when Garrett lets his inner jerk out.”
“Which is every five minutes. Yup. I get it.” I chuckled.
“Point is, thank you. I mean it, Harley,” he said. “You made an effort, and
you helped me see things from the outside. Garrett and I aren’t exactly on
speaking terms yet, but I think we’re getting there. At least we got the bulk of
our discord out of the way.”
“About that. I’m sorry,” I replied. “I get that what he did was terrible. It’s
actually kind of funny, but—” I giggled, then stopped myself when I noticed
his sullen expression. “Terrible. Just a terrible gesture, on his part,” I said,
putting on a serious face, even though I was laughing on the inside. “It’s in
the past, though. He said he was sorry. It’s time to move on.”
“I agree.”
Silence fell between us for a while. He was working up the courage to say
something else, I could feel it. A minute went by as I waited patiently, until
my gaze settled absently on the covered car. As soon as he saw me looking at
it, he was plugged back in.
“I wanted to… um, I wanted to do something special,” he said. “As a…
Well, as a ‘Welcome to the San Diego Coven’ kind of… gift.”
I raised an eyebrow at him.
He lowered his head, then pulled the cover off the car in one, swift move.
I squealed with joy as soon as I saw her. My Daisy. My Daisy! My
beloved ’67 Ford Mustang was whole again. She’d been given a full
makeover, painted in a luscious, shimmering black with sterling detail work.
There was no sign of Murray’s fiendish aggression anywhere. My baby
looked brand new!
My eyes were filled with tears as I covered my mouth and kept staring at
Daisy.
“You were so broken up about this car, I figured it would make you
happy to be able to drive it again,” Wade added. Warmth filled me up, and I
wasn’t sure if that was me or him. “I found a good mechanic. We had to do a
lot of digging online to find some of the parts, but…” He tossed me the keys,
complete with a small porcelain globe keychain. “We found them all. Your
car is fully functional again.”
“Holy moly,” I croaked, staring at the keys, then back at Daisy. I walked
around her a couple of times, running my fingers against her smooth lines.
“Your mechanic did an incredible job.”
“He’s actually a specialist in vintage cars. Anything before the seventies
is his area of expertise,” Wade replied.
I dashed forward and threw myself in his arms. I held him tight, resting
my head on his shoulder. Wade responded, and I felt his embrace tighten
around my waist. His heart was on a rampage, as was mine. Touching him
like this had an incredible effect on me.
“Thank you, Wade. I… I don’t know what… or how to repay you,” I
said.
“You don’t have to. You deserve it.”
His voice was low and smooth, like balm for my rickety little soul.
A twinkle caught my eye as I relished the feel of him against me. My
Esprit had lit up—each of the gemstones sparkling in a way that made me
smile. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was just my sheer happiness,
manifesting through raw Chaos. It certainly felt like that. After all, the Esprit
was supposed to be an extension of my soul, and my soul was way up there,
thrilled and brimming with joy.
“Thank you,” I whispered again.
Feeling Wade without touching him suddenly felt bland. I could get used
to letting him hold me like this. My senses were on fire, each sensation
amplified. I had a hard time letting go.
I moved to gently pull myself back, but he firmly kept me in place,
making my heart skip a beat. My breath left me, lost in his embrace. He
didn’t want to let go…
“I’m hoping this will make you stay,” Wade said, his lips dangerously
close to my ear. His breath brushed against it, making my skin tingle all over.
“Stay?” I asked.
“With us, here, in the San Diego Coven.”
“Pledge my allegiance, you mean,” I replied.
He pulled his head back to look me in the eyes. That was such a
dangerous thing for him to do, since I instantly melted inside those deep
green pools.
“The coven needs you, Harley. It’s not so much about your abilities as it
is about your character and strength. We could use people like you in the long
run,” he said.
 “Well, once we get this Suppressor off, surely my abilities will count,
too,” I replied, grinning.
Wade frowned, then gently let go. For a moment, I felt cold. Oh, how
quickly I’d adjusted to his embrace.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked. “It might put your life in
danger. That thing was made to stay there. Forever.”
I shook my head. “I can’t live a life of Mediocrity when I have so much
potential bubbling beneath the surface,” I said. “I’d rather risk it and get it out
of me than settle with limits. I can’t even consider that.”
He nodded, processing my response. Adrenaline was still pumping
through me, the result of his touch. The effect that Wade had on me was
undeniable at this point. But what really got me curious was the effect that I
had on him. How much of what I was feeling was mine, and how much was
his?
“Do you want to get behind the wheel?” he asked, his lips stretching into
a satisfied smile.
He was clearly content with himself—and for good reason. Despite our
head-butting and his sometimes-insufferable attitude, Wade meant well. He’d
made that much clear with Daisy, though it came as quite a surprise after he’d
told me to get over her, that she was just a pile of metal. An object of no
significance.
Well, it turned out he did, in fact, understand what Daisy meant to me.
I nodded enthusiastically, then got in the driver’s seat. I breathed in
deeply. The scent of leather and pine flooded my brain. I looked at him
standing by the car door and let out a devilish cackle. With a trembling hand,
I put the keys in the ignition and twisted them.
“She’s alive!” I exclaimed, sounding like Dr. Frankenstein, as Daisy’s
engine roared to life. “Good grief, I missed your purrs, baby! Momma loves
the sound of your voice! Yes, she does!” I addressed Daisy as if she were a
golden retriever—such a good girl.
Wade chuckled, rejoicing at the sight of me as I wiggled in my seat.
“This is amazing,” I said to him. “Thank you, Wade. I will never forget
this.”
“Oh, I don’t plan on letting you forget,” he replied with a smile.
His phone rang. He checked the screen, his brow furrowed. “Santana,” he
muttered, then answered the call. “Yeah… What?!”
 The color drained from his face as he hung up and looked at me.
“What?” I asked.
“We’re needed in the dragon garden. Something’s wrong with Tatyana,”
he said.
He rushed inside the center through the service door. I quickly took my
keys out and locked my beloved Daisy, then ran in after him. I cared about
my teammates, and the thought of any of them getting hurt made me feel
worse than my car getting smashed by a gargoyle.
In hindsight, Wade did have a point. The car could be replaced. One of
us, however… never.
 THIRTY-ONE

Harley

don’t get why everyone is so fussed about this,” Tatyana said, her voice
“I emerging from the garden inside the coven.
Wade and I arrived just in time to find her standing by the dragon
fountain, keeping her distance from Santana, Raffe, and Astrid, who looked
on edge. They were all worried and scared for Tatyana, but none of them
dared to approach her.
“What’s going on here?” Wade asked.
Santana exhaled. “I told you! She’s possessed!”
Astrid was frantically looking for something on her Smartie tablet,
flipping through folders and files with shaky fingers, while Raffe kept his
dark blue-gray eyes on Tatyana. She looked fine to me, until I got a whiff of
her emotions. Most of them were doubled in intensity, and not in a way that
felt natural. I could feel two people in her body, for sure.
“Oh, damn,” I said. “She’s right. There’s someone in there.”
“How did that happen?” Wade replied, equally outraged and confused as
he glared at Tatyana. “I thought we talked about this! You know what
happens when you let a spirit in for too long!”
“I’ve got this under control!” Tatyana fired back. “Oberon is helping me,
okay? You guys are blowing this out of proportion. Take a chill pill!”
“Yeah, no!” Santana snapped. “Not taking a chill pill! Not after the last
time you got your skinny ass overthrown by a spirit! You almost killed
Preceptor Redmont, remember?!”
“Ooooh, that bad, huh?” I asked, pursing my lips.
“Yup!” Wade said, his Esprit rings lighting up white. He was getting
ready to intervene. “Tatyana is a phenomenal Kolduny, or, better said, Ghost-
Whisperer, but she’s yet to learn to fully control her body while a foreign
spirit is in there. That takes time and practice, and it needs to be done in a
controlled environment. Not behind our backs!” he added, raising his voice at
the end.
“She used Oberon Marx’s spirit to save Dylan during the Kenneth Willow
incident,” Santana replied. “But the wonder jock is still hitching a ride, and
I’m not sure Tatyana had much of a say in it. Right now, I’m not even sure
that’s Tatyana we’re talking to.”
“Of course it’s me,” Tatyana exclaimed, laughing nervously. I couldn’t
feel her usual cool and curiosity. There was anger and longing—the toxic
kind that burned holes through my stomach. This all felt different.
I put my hand out, the white pearl on my Esprit lighting up like a
miniature star. I’d recently learned that if I aimed my Esprit at someone,
while focusing on my Empathy, I could dig deeper and get an even better
read on a person. I hadn’t used it often because my instinct was good enough
on its own for most circumstances, and it took a toll on my energy—but right
now it was worth it, and I was able to instantly identify two independent
strands of emotions.
One was strained and fearful, desperate to get back to the surface. The
other was furious and missing someone… I could almost see her face before
me. Long, flowing hair. Wild green eyes. A smile that made my heart flutter.
I gasped, realizing that I’d tapped into a string of emotions that carried
powerful images with them. That was something I’d never seen or
experienced before. It scared and enticed me, all at once. It also confirmed a
most dreadful fact.
“Tatyana’s not in control anymore,” I said.
Wade noticed my Esprit and the look on my face and frowned. “You can
feel Oberon?”
“Oh, yeah. Absolutely. He’s behind the wheel,” I replied.
“Tatyana, you have to push him out!” Santana shouted. “Push the bastard
out! He’s controlling you!”
Tatyana crossed her arms. “You’re way too loud, you know that?” she
replied dryly. “I told you to chill out. I’ve got this under control.”
“Oberon Marx. You don’t belong here,” Wade hissed. “Leave now or
you’ll regret it.”
“What part of ‘I’ve got this under control’ didn’t you understand?”
Tatyana spat.
“I have a hard time believing that,” Raffe said. Rage was boiling inside
him, tainted with malice and a thirst for blood… violence. At that point, I
wasn’t sure whether I should be more scared of him than of a possessed
Tatyana. “Unless you’re speaking as Oberon, in which case, yes, you have
control. Over a body that’s not yours. Release her!”
“Don’t you have anything better to do than butt into my business?”
Tatyana asked, her Esprit bracelet twinkling blue.
“That’s it. I’m pulling your ghostly ass out of there!” Santana said,
darting toward her.
Tatyana used her Telekinesis to swat Santana away like a fly. She gripped
Raffe by his throat, trying to suffocate him. Wade cursed under his breath and
launched a fireball at her—he didn’t aim to hurt her. The purpose was to
distract her.
It worked. Tatyana let go of Raffe, dodged the blaze, and jumped back a
couple of steps. She grinned, her eyes glimmering yellow. That wasn’t a good
sign, since it probably meant that the spirit was sinking his teeth into her
flesh, determined to never let go.
I took a step forward, ready to use my Telekinesis on her, but Wade
motioned for me to stand back.
“Hold on,” he said. “Don’t. There’s a mighty Herculean in there. Force
clearly isn’t an option here. It’ll take more than a tackle to stop him.”
“We can’t just let him—”
“Just listen to me, for once, and wait!” Wade cut me off.
“Well, at least you kids aren’t as stupid as I thought,” Tatyana announced,
her voice doubled—both female and male, as if she and Oberon were
speaking at the same time. It was freaky, to say the least.
“Let go of her, Oberon,” Wade warned. “You know there’s a soul in there
already. And you know what happens when you possess someone in the long
term, right?”
“It doesn’t matter!” Tatyana-Oberon snarled. “I have a body now, and I’ll
use it to do what I have to do. Once I get my own body back, this one can
burn for all I care!”
Santana managed to get up, panting and holding her side. “You’re loco if
you think I’m going to let you destroy my friend!”
She charged Tatyana—this time, however, her Orishas came out to help.
A dozen bluish wisps of raw energy swirled around Santana, before
dissolving into her body and lighting her up from the inside. Glowing and
seething with anger, Santana rammed into Tatyana.
Tatyana grabbed Santana by the throat, delivered a series of crippling
punches into her ribcage, and tossed her aside. Santana rolled on the ground,
limp. Raffe leapt to his feet and let out a bloodcurdling roar. I’d never heard
or seen him like this. Judging by the looks on Astrid’s and Wade’s faces,
however, they had, and it seemed to spell serious trouble for all of us.
“Raffe, stand down!” Wade commanded.
Raffe shot him a glance over the shoulder. Only then did I spot the
change—the fiery red in his eyes, as if volcanoes were erupting in there.
Raffe bared his teeth, seemingly feral and raring to tear into Tatyana. He
panted, his chest swelling with every breath. The malice and viciousness I’d
sensed coming out of him earlier was now blaring at full volume, as if his
otherwise calm and composed nature had been literally trampled, making
way for… the beast.
“Raffe! I said stand down!” Wade raised his voice.
“Raffe, don’t… You’ll kill her,” Santana croaked, propping herself up on
one side. Blood was trickling from the corner of her mouth.
The sight of her seemed to be enough to make Raffe’s inner storm
subside. Tatyana-Oberon grinned, watching as Raffe exhaled heavily, before
rushing to help Santana.
“You’re in over your heads,” Tatyana-Oberon said. Then she darted
toward Wade, but his instincts were fast, and he managed to beat her back
with a bright blaze. She stilled several feet away from him and carefully eyed
each of us, probably looking for the weakest spot. Santana was off limits, it
seemed, since Tatyana-Oberon gave Raffe a nervous grin. She preferred not
to cross him.
“And you’re about to get your ass thrown back into the veil!” Astrid
shouted. She looked at Wade. “Use the Krinkman-Sadler exorcism. This area
is secured for that.”
“What’s that?” I asked, moving slowly to the side as I looked for attack
angles. I wanted to have a shot of my own at taking Tatyana down,
immobilizing her without hurting her.
A split second later, Wade released another fireball at Tatyana-Oberon.
She dodged it, but it exploded just above her—a nifty trick I’d seen him use
before. It forced her down on her belly, coughing and wheezing from the
sudden burst of heat she’d inhaled. It hurt me to see her like this, but we had
to stall her as much as possible until we figured out what to do.
“I had to double check the coven’s blueprints to make sure,” Astrid said.
“The Krinkman-Sadler exorcism is a difficult thing to do since it requires a
ton of Dark energy. There are parts of the coven where the walls are imbued
with Light energy, and parts where it’s Dark. This garden is Dark, and Wade
will need some of that to perform the exorcism.”
“I’m confused. Are we talking about Darkness and Light? As in the
Children of Chaos? The kind of energy that’s supposed to run through us,
naturally?” I asked.
“Well, you’re behind on your theory, it seems,” Tatyana-Oberon sneered
at me, then got up and stepped forward, assuming an attack stance. The spirit
was taunting me, banking on anticipation to make me nervous and cripple my
concentration. How the hell am I the weak spot?
“Yes. I’m not Dark by nature, I’m Light,” Wade explained. “So, I need
extra Darkness energy to perform the Krinkman-Sadler exorcism.”
He threw out a trio of exploding fireballs this time, forcing Tatyana-
Oberon to drop and roll in order to avoid another throat-burn.
“Which is a Dark ritual,” Astrid added. “Raffe’s Dark, but his is not the
kind of energy you want to let out for this, trust me.”
“Why not?” I replied.
“I’ll explain another time! Just stand your ground and keep your eyes on
Tatyana!” Wade said. “We need to find a way to restrain her. My fire won’t
stall her forever.”
Tatyana-Oberon laughed. “Good luck with that.” She raised her hands
and pushed out a Telekinetic barrier so powerful it felt like a tidal wave,
throwing us all backward. I wound up rolling over the garden path stones,
then lying on my back, the air knocked out of my lungs.
Wade grunted as he tried to get himself back up, but Tatyana-Oberon
wasn’t done. Her Telekinesis was amplified by that of the spirit, making it
twice as powerful and potentially deadly. She sent out another pulse that
pushed us all back down. It felt as though she had her boot pressed against
the back of my head, stuffing my face against a patch of hard ground and
grass.
I cursed under my breath, struggling to release myself.
“Lordy, you kids are stupidly easy to overpower,” Tatyana-Oberon said
in a double voice.
“Tatyana…” Dylan’s voice emerged from the other side of the garden.
I managed to look ahead, spotting Dylan as he staggered toward us. He
was wearing his infirmary garb—the open-back gown. Had I not been under
the pressure of a ghost’s Telekinesis, I probably would’ve thrown out a
backdraft joke at Dylan’s expense.
He saw us, then frowned, setting his sights on Tatyana-Oberon, since she
was the only one standing.
Surprisingly, she stilled at the sight of him.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
Tatyana’s emotions flared through me. She was trying to reach out to him
from the depths of her consciousness, where Oberon had stashed her.
“Astrid left me one of her tablets, to patch into CCTV and check out the
place if I’m bored with streaming movies,” Dylan said, frowning. “What’s
going on with you?”
“She’s possessed,” Santana groaned.
Dylan’s shoulders dropped. His concern and fear rammed into me. But it
was quickly drowned out by determination. Dylan wasn’t one to wallow in
the dark stuff.
“Why would you let that happen?” Dylan asked Tatyana, his voice husky.
“I was trying to help. I needed Oberon’s strength and power,” Tatyana
said, having somehow caught the mic for a second. “But he’s not letting me
back in—” She paused, then returned to her creepy double voice. “Now,
now! Where were we? Ah, yes. Kill you all, then go be with my beloved
Katherine.”
“Tatyana?” Dylan breathed, visibly confused.
“Wait, Katherine?!” I yelled in alarm.
“I need her. I have to be with her,” Tatyana-Oberon replied. She grinned
and raised a hand toward Dylan, while she kept the other focused on us.
“Katherine Shipton?!” I gasped.
She glowered at me, then smiled. “Ever since I heard she was back, I’ve
been looking for a way to find her.”
As I absorbed the shock, I realized that it sort of made sense. Everything
bad that happened in the coven was always somehow related to friggin’
Katherine Shipton.
“You met her,” I said, stalling. Now I needed to focus on giving Dylan a
window to take her down.
“Met her?” Tatyana-Oberon laughed. “I was with her. I loved her! I still
love her. Hell, my love for her is what killed me.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“That’s none of your concern,” Tatyana-Oberon replied, the grief oozing
out of the hijacking spirit. The bitterness and guilt, the pain and the longing…
It felt like poison, tainting my blood.”
That was Dylan’s shot, and he took it. “You’re not taking her away from
me!” Dylan shouted, sprinting forward and tackling her like the pro footballer
that he was. They both landed with a thud and viciously wrestled, rolling and
tumbling through the grass.
Punches were thrown. Some missed, some nailed the ribs and the sides.
Tatyana-Oberon swerved around and caught Dylan in a chokehold. Now
free of her insanely powerful Telekinesis, I was able to use my own. I
launched a targeted pulse, hitting her right in the forehead. It threw her head
back, and she loosened her hold on Dylan, who then took control of the
situation.
Wade reached them just as Dylan straddled Tatyana, forcing her hands
behind her back. Even with Oberon’s spirit strengthening her, she couldn’t do
much from that position.
“Let me go, you son of a—”
“Tatyana!” Dylan shouted, cutting her off. “Throw him out! Come back
to me, please! Throw the bastard out!”
“I’m sorry, Tatyana’s not available at the moment.” Tatyana-Oberon
chortled. “Please try again la—” She stilled, her yellowish eyes wide with
shock. “No… No, no, no!”
She went into a seizure, shaking uncontrollably. Dylan held her down,
and Wade checked her vitals. We all gathered around, watching helplessly as
Tatyana fought Oberon for control of her body.
“Come on, Tatyana, you can do it,” I whispered.
“Kick his ass, chica!” Santana snapped.
 “Please, Tatyana. Please, fight him. Come back to us… To me,” Dylan
breathed, tearing up as he kept a tight grip on her.
Tatyana roared from what felt like incredibly intense emotional pain. I
clutched my chest, shocked by how horrible it felt for her. Wade gave me a
concerned glance. I nodded reassuringly in return. I didn’t want anyone to get
distracted by my Empathy. Tatyana’s wellbeing mattered the most. Even as I
dropped to one knee, subdued by the pain, I held on to that conviction.
“Come on, Tatyana! Do it!” I cried out, tears streaming down my cheeks,
as every muscle in my body seemed to tear from my bones.
Tatyana screamed, the veins in her temples throbbing as she delivered a
final push and sucked in a breath. A wisp of white smoke puffed out of her
body and dissipated. I could almost hear Oberon’s wails as he vanished into
the invisible veil of the spirit world.
I pointed my Esprit hand at her, the pearl lighting up white again. I could
feel her—ashamed, exhausted, and angry. “She’s back,” I said, sitting down
with a heavy breath.
Dylan got off Tatyana and helped her up into a sitting position. She was
covered in a sheet of sweat, panting and sobbing at the same time. Dylan put
his arms around her and pressed his lips against her temple.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You did it. It’s okay… It’s over.”
“No, not yet,” Tatyana choked out. She reached into her boot and
retrieved a small pocket knife. She flipped it open and hissed from the pain as
she carved a small rune symbol into her left forearm. I was the only one
shocked by what I was watching, it seemed.
“What the hell?!” I blurted.
“It’s a banishing sigil. It keeps the last spirit to have entered the body
from ever coming back,” Wade explained, then took out a handkerchief—
because that’s the kind of guy he was, all suited up and always carrying a
monogramed handkerchief around—and handed it to Tatyana, who tied it
around her bleeding forearm.
“Thanks, Wade,” she sighed, then gave us all an apologetic smile. “I’m
so, so sorry.”
“Hey, it’s okay. What matters is that you’re safe now,” Santana replied.
“It could’ve been a lot worse.”
“Hold on, you literally carve runes into your skin to stop the likes of
Oberon from possessing you again?” I asked, still wrapping my head around
that unpleasant little nugget.
Tatyana nodded, then lifted her shirt to show me five other scars on her
left hip—five other runes, for five other spirits that had taken over her body
and refused to let go. I’d known she had a history with rogue spirits, but I
hadn’t known the details or the repercussions.
“It’s not my first rodeo,” she said. “I was stupid this time. Given what the
Ryders are doing, I thought I could use someone like Oberon…”
Her voice trailed off as she passed out.
“I’m taking her to the infirmary,” Dylan said, immediately scooping her
up in his arms and racing toward the building.
Santana, Raffe, and Astrid followed. They all needed some light medical
attention. Judging by the scratches and bruises on my arms, I could’ve used a
couple of Band-Aids too. I was already partially purple here and there from
the beating I’d gotten from the evil twins—a few additional grazes were
practically nothing.
I now understood why Tatyana’s ability was so dangerous. It could easily
kill anyone around her, not to mention Tatyana herself. What was Oberon
thinking? He’d sounded so obsessed, so desperate to get to Katherine
Shipton. He didn’t care who he hurt or what he had to do. He would’ve
stopped at nothing to find his way back to her.
It scared me to think of the kind of power that Katherine Shipton could
have on a man, to cause him to frantically search for her, even in death.
 THIRTY-TWO

Tatyana

y head hurt as if it had been split in half like a watermelon. My eyes

M peeled open, instantly squinting to filter the blast of white light. It took
me a couple of seconds to figure out that I was in the infirmary.
My mouth and throat were dry. I licked my lips, then looked down. I was
in bed, still in my clothes. And Dylan was sleeping next to me, half of him in
a chair and the other half leaning into my bed, his head resting against my
hip.
I raised my arm slowly and saw the rune I’d carved into my skin. A
heaviness weighed down on my shoulders as I realized that I hadn’t dreamed
any of it. At some point, Oberon had taken over my body, without me even
realizing. He’d probably noticed I could sense his spiritual pressure when he
got behind the wheel and figured out a way to trick me.
I didn’t even realize he’d hijacked me until I saw myself casting
Telekinetic attacks against my friends out by the dragon fountain. Shame set
my face on fire. I couldn’t be in here for another second. I needed to crawl
into a dark space somewhere and wait the embarrassment out.
Dylan felt me stir and put his arm out, pinning me down.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he grumbled, then raised his head to look
at me.
Our eyes met, and I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. He gave me a
soft smile but didn’t say anything for a while. I felt so bad, so foolish… I
would’ve loved it if the earth could’ve just opened up and swallowed me
whole to spare me the misery. I’d been duped by a ghost.
“Don’t feel bad about it,” Dylan said, as if reading my mind. “You did
what you thought was best. Besides, this wasn’t my first ghostly adventure.
Remember?”
How could I forget? Dylan had barely marked his first week in the coven
when the spirit of a former criminal warlock had hijacked me and nearly
killed Preceptor Redmont. Apparently, the scholar of International Magical
Cultures had made some enemies down in the basement prison some time
ago, after testifying against several murderous rogues—including the one
who’d snuck into my body.
Sometimes, if I wasn’t careful, I couldn’t even see a spirit coming.
They’d wait around, quiet and patient, until they felt a temporary weakness in
my spiritual defenses. It was going to take a lot more time and practice for me
to be able to keep all the spirits at bay, as well as to control them while they
were riding my meatsuit.
Dylan had joined Santana, Raffe, and Wade in taking me down and
helping me exorcise the malevolent spirit. He’d actually found it…
fascinating. That wasn’t a word I’d heard before, when describing a
Kolduny’s ability to let spirits in.
“I was so stupid,” I said. “I believed Oberon. I thought he really wanted
to help. I figured all he was getting out of this was the opportunity to feel
everything again inside a body. What an idiot I was.”
Dylan squeezed my hand gently. The tingling sensation of his touch
spread through my whole arm, then traveled all the way to my heart, where it
settled and emitted a series of heatwaves. I definitely had feelings for Dylan,
and I didn’t know what to do with them. I was a liability to anyone who got
too close to me, as evidenced by the Oberon incident. I’d hurt my friends. I
would’ve hurt Dylan, too, if I hadn’t found the strength to return to the
surface.
I got away easy this time, but what about the next? I could never forgive
myself if something happened to Dylan. He’d come quite late into the
magical world. I didn’t want to ruin the experience for him, or worse, kill
him. I just… I couldn’t.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Astrid said as she came in, accompanied
by Harley, Wade, Santana, and Raffe. They were all pretty roughed up, but
nothing that couldn’t be fixed with some ice or concealer. Again, guilt
gnawed at my stomach. “Oberon played you like a fiddle, but I figured out
why and what happened to him,” she added, taking out her Smartie tablet as
she came around to my right side of the bed.
“What do you mean?” I asked, confused. “I heard him talking about
Katherine Shipton, but I don’t know anything about that. He locked me out
completely when he took over. I couldn’t even sense his intentions anymore.”
“I’ve done some research. Put two and two together. Plus, the
‘homework’ that Harley gave me the other day came in super handy,” she
replied.
“Wait,” I said, frowning. “How long have I been out?”
“Oh, about ten hours,” Harley answered, grinning. “They’re serving
breakfast downstairs. How are you feeling?”
“Like crap,” I breathed.
She chuckled. “Figures. You’ll be okay, though. Krieger checked your
vitals and everything. Your body is fine. I guess it’s just your ego that’s
bruised.”
“And my ribs,” Santana muttered.
“I’m so sorry—”
“Chica, enough! Don’t worry about it!” Santana stopped me, then nodded
at Astrid. “Go on, genius. Tell her what you found out!”
Astrid handed me the tablet so I could see the files she’d pulled up. A
mixture of documents and images were scattered across the screen—crime
scene photos, autopsy snapshots, and investigative reports. I recognized
Oberon in some of the images. Specifically, his dead body.
“So, here’s what I got so far, and I didn’t realize I had it until I read
Oberon Marx’s autopsy report,” Astrid said. “The Icelandic spell that Harley
wanted me to research, Sál Vinna… it’s very old, extremely dark and evil.
Obviously forbidden. We don’t even have any references about it in the
coven. I had to go into the nationwide database and dig really, really deep.
It’s a powerful, perverted mental control spell. It feels so natural, but so
strong that the victim won’t know he’s under it until it’s too late, and he’s
lost control.”
“Is that what happened to Oberon?” I asked, trying to make a connection.
“Sál Vinna implants the thought of someone so deep in your mind that it
feels like you’ve always thought about that person,” Astrid replied. “It is
stronger than any form of hypnosis or mind control, and it’s very dangerous
because it’s known to be unbreakable and incurable. Once you get it, that’s it.
You’re done. So, that’s the curse. Now, as you can see, I pulled up everything
we had on Oberon. He died here in the coven. Fatal head trauma, but the
circumstances of his death weren’t clear. I only know that it was ruled an
accident. He bled out.”
“He said that his love for Katherine Shipton killed him,” I said, even as I
remembered his bloody shirt.
Astrid nodded, before pointing at another file on the tablet, complete with
grainy footage of a woman with red hair. Harley crossed her arms, visibly
angered and concerned.
“I gave Smartie all of Katherine Shipton’s details, including a last official
photo of her. I had the system search through the CCTV archives and pulled
this little gem up,” Astrid continued. “She wasn’t affiliated with the coven or
registered here, but she matches Katherine Shipton’s facial features—
otherwise Smartie wouldn’t have pointed her out. Thing is, this footage is
from a period of three months preceding Oberon’s death. So, naturally I
figured that, based on what Oberon told us, Katherine Shipton was definitely
here at some point, and had something to do with his death. It seemed pretty
obvious.”
She tapped on the tablet screen again and zoomed in on an autopsy photo
of Oberon Marx. I was looking at a blackish purple puncture wound behind
his ear, surrounded by a small rune symbol of Celtic origin, burned into his
skin.
“Then this came up and I had a connect-the-dots moment!” Astrid went
on. “The Sál Vinna works as a liquid spell. A mixture is concocted, then
injected into the victim—hypodermic needles are the bomb. But it needs to
be sealed into the victim’s body, so the rune is added to keep it tight and evil.
From there on, it’s good riddance for the poor fella. And this is proof that
Oberon Marx was under the Sál Vinna. The mortician at the time didn’t spot
it because he already had cause of death. His skull had been crushed on the
other side. Whether Oberon fell or Katherine bashed his head in, though, we
don’t know. Results were inconclusive.”
I held my breath for a moment, following Astrid’s line of reasoning, then
looked up at Harley. “Why did you want Astrid to look into Sál Vinna?” I
asked her.
 “Isadora told me about it. She said not to believe everything I read about
my dad, and to look into that spell,” she replied, her voice uneven.
We were both thinking the same thing at that point. I could see it on her
face. “You think your father was under the influence of Sál Vinna when he…
did what he did?”
“We’re considering the possibility, yes,” Wade said.
“We definitely think that Oberon was cursed with Sál Vinna by Katherine
and got himself killed with it. He couldn’t move on as a spirit, and he took
the curse with him,” Astrid continued. “From the moment you let him in, he
had a plan to get back to Katherine. His spirit is still obsessed with her.”
“The point is,” Dylan said, “this wasn’t your fault, Tatyana. Oberon knew
exactly what he was doing. He wasn’t going to leave your body even if you
told him no. He was going to fight you for it. Nothing was going to stand
between him and Katherine.”
“Though, he probably had no idea where to even begin looking for her,”
Santana said.
“And even if he were to find her, chances are that Katherine would’ve
chopped his head off. Well, your head. Sorry,” Harley replied. “You dodged
a bullet with that guy.”
“We do appreciate the fact that you saw this as an opportunity to help our
team,” Wade said to me, then squeezed my shoulder. “You had good
intentions.”
“Shoddy execution.” I scoffed.
“All Oberon’s fault.” Harley sighed. She looked at Wade. “If my father
was under Sál Vinna, too, that might explain a few things, including Finch’s
account of my father getting back together with Katherine, then killing my
mom and the other magicals.”
“There should be mortuary records available,” Astrid said. “Photos, for
sure. They wouldn’t have had to do an autopsy on Hiram Merlin, since they
knew exactly what killed him—they did.”
“Would they be in the New York Coven?” Harley asked.
Wade nodded. “Probably. But not available to the magical public.”
“Let me check,” Astrid said. She took the tablet back and did her magic
through the inter-coven electronic database. She pouted as the results came
back. “There are no electronic copies. Which is kind of weird.”
“How’d you get access?” Wade asked, clearly surprised.
 Astrid gave him a playful smile. “I’ve got higher clearance than you, it
seems,” she replied, chuckling.
“So, what, there are only hard copies?” Harley cut back in.
Astrid nodded. “The covens were supposed to have digitized everything
over the past ten years,” she said. “Including all the data they had from
judgments, executions, investigations, autopsies, and so on. This is a bit odd,
if you ask me.”
“I may have to make my way up to New York to check the archives
myself,” Harley concluded. “I’m sure Alton will sign off on that. I have to
find out whether my father was under Sál Vinna. If he was, then he was
definitely innocent. Like he said…”
Santana cried out in pain, dropping to her knees. Bright blue-and-green
Orishas shot out from inside her, chaotically darting through the infirmary.
“What the… What’s happening?” Harley gasped.
Raffe helped Santana up. She was trembling from head to toe. I froze. I
knew exactly what all this meant.
“The charms,” Santana panted. “They all went off at the same time. Every
single one I put in. Something happened to the kids… the families…
something bad.”
Harley turned white as a sheet of paper. “The Ryder twins made their
move.”
 THIRTY-THREE

Harley

othing could keep Tatyana in bed at that point. We all rushed into
N Astrid’s computer room, a place I rarely visited but always found myself
in awe of. An entire wall was covered by giant screens, connected to the
central AI node, which, in turn, was powered by a dozen processing units.
Astrid connected her tablet to the node directly through a slim cable and
proceeded to pull up the information she’d gathered so far, as well as live
CCTV footage from different parts of the city. Wade got on the phone with
the magical security command center and had them dispatch more people to
each of the houses we’d been to.
Santana was breathing heavily and sweating, her Orishas nervously
buzzing around the room, while Dylan held Tatyana close, with one arm
snaked around her waist.
“They’re sending people to each magical location,” Wade said, once he
got off the phone. “I told them to expect the worst.”
“We can’t cover them all ourselves,” Santana replied. “We can’t do
anything there, now. We need to find the Ryders. If the kids are gone, we
know they’ll be with them.”
“The Ryders wouldn’t be able to pull off a mass kidnapping by
themselves, though. They must have some help,” Raffe said, frowning.
“Where can we start looking for them?” I asked, fear clutching and
crushing my heart. “Where could they possibly be hiding?”
 Tatyana gasped. “Oh. I think I know,” she said. “I was looking into
something in the archives last night, just before Oberon kicked me out. I met
a guy, a spirit, who’d once helped the Ryders out some years back. He
regretted that because they ended up squatting in his house. Anyway, he said
that based on what I was looking for and what he knew about the Ryders,
they’d likely be shacked up in a warehouse or abandoned property.”
“Yeah, they wouldn’t open up a rogue interdimensional pocket,” Wade
agreed. “That requires Bestiary energy, and we’d be immediately notified.”
“Exactly. So, he suggested we look into the Chula Vista area,” Tatyana
replied. “It’s got easy access to both the highway and the ocean, and it has
good links into the city and the neighborhoods where our magical watchlist
resides.”
Astrid nodded as she typed the data into the system. After a few minutes
of searching, she pulled up three possible locations: two warehouses and an
abandoned residential property, all within reasonable distance of the freeway.
“This is what Smartie came up with,” she said. “I added Chula Vista into
the parameters we’ve already gathered, starting with the gargoyle incidents
and everyone involved.”
“Okay, so, how do these three places fit in?” I asked, frowning as I stared
at the screen.
Astrid opened the detail files for each property, then exhaled as she
pointed at a warehouse on the water’s edge. “That right there. I think that’s
it.”
“What makes you say tha—oh…” I mumbled, noticing the detail lines.
My blood ran cold.
“Look who rented it for the past couple of years paid up in advance,”
Astrid said.
“Finch Anker,” I read out loud. “Holy. Crap.”
A minute passed in dreadful silence as we all made the connection. We
already knew the Ryders worked with Katherine Shipton, but we weren’t sure
of the extent of her network, barring what Isadora had told me about her spies
being everywhere. Seeing Finch pop up again further enforced my original
assessments: they were all connected, and they all had different plans to carry
out, independent of each other. I hadn’t voiced this before, nor was I ready to
do it now. Everything we had was still circumstantial.
I had a feeling the contents of that warehouse might shed some light—not
to mention the Ryders, whom I was dying to take down in shackles.
“Okay. Let’s gear up, then,” Wade said. “Security is looking into the
magicals and their families. We need to get these bastards.”

Twenty minutes later, I had Garrett, Dylan, and Tatyana in my Daisy, driving
fast behind Wade’s Jeep. Santana, Astrid, and Raffe were with him.
“Thanks for taking me along for the ride,” Garrett said from the passenger
seat.
Blood rushed through my veins with enough force to power an entire city.
The adrenaline had me plugged in, my gaze darting all over the place as I
tried to focus exclusively on the road. My stomach was churning, a thousand
thoughts booming through my head at once.
“We need the extra pair of magical hands,” I replied, gripping the wheel
to the point where my knuckles turned white.
“Harley, what about Isadora?” Tatyana asked me. I’d already told them
about her in the morning. “Do you have any way of getting in touch with
her?”
I shook my head. “I tried. She’ll be the one to reach out to me, and I don’t
know what the hell she’s doing right now,” I said. “I wouldn’t count on her if
I were you. There’s still so much about her that we don’t know.”
“But she did help you,” Garrett chimed in. “I doubt she’s a baddie in this
picture.”
“I didn’t say she’s bad. I just don’t think she’s reliable. She should’ve
come to me by now,” I replied. “She’s on the run, anyway. Everybody wants
her for what she can do, for what she knows.”
“Ugh, right. Portal Opener.” Tatyana sighed. “That’s a tough act to
follow.”
“Maybe something happened to her,” Dylan said.
We reached Chula Vista, the sun rising over the ocean and a multitude of
storage facilities lining that portion of the shore. Wade sped up, prompting
me to slam the accelerator to keep up. We both stopped with a spine-tingling
screech outside the warehouse in question.
I took a moment to quickly glance around. It looked abandoned—one
large unit with black walls and a metallic roof, flanked by other similar
boxes. There weren’t any cars around, or any sign of people in the area. The
place looked downright deserted. Behind it, a narrow, overgrown road
connected the storage facility to the main access route we’d come down from.
A wavy strip of wilderness and sand stretched beyond it, leading to the ocean.
We climbed out of the car, reuniting with Wade and the others. The look
on his face told me he didn’t have good news from the security units he’d
sent out.
“Four parents dead, three in critical condition. All the kids missing,” he
said, his voice low.
It felt like a punch in the gut. “They took them,” I replied, swallowing
back tears. “What about the eyes we had on them?”
“All dead,” Wade said.
I had to take a deep breath to stop the crippling fear from taking over. We
were dealing with coldblooded magical killers. The lives of twelve innocent
children were now at risk, including Micah, Min-Ho, Marjorie, Mina,
Samson, Louella, and the others. Then again, we didn’t know whether any of
them, besides Kenneth Willow, had willingly joined forces with the Ryders.
They were recruiting, after all.
“Okay. How do we do this?” I asked, trying to stay focused on the
mission.
“Astrid, stay back here,” Wade replied. “Be ready to call for backup,” he
added, putting on his Bluetooth earpiece. “The rest of us will circle the
warehouse, check for signs of life, then go in through the front door. We’re
already here. If they’re inside, they know we’re coming at this point. Stay on
your toes.”
We all nodded and split up into two groups. Wade took me, Santana, and
Raffe, while Garrett took Tatyana and Dylan. We headed for the east side,
and Garrett handled the west. We moved quietly along the walls, listening
carefully for any kind of movement or voices, but we didn’t hear anything.
There was nothing but silence.
My stomach was tied up in knots, the anticipation causing beads of sweat
to trickle down my temples. We met back in front of the storage unit and
exchanged curious glances.
“A little too quiet for my taste,” Garrett whispered.
Wade gave him a brief nod. Something was definitely better between
these two. Mainly, I wasn’t getting bad vibes from Wade anymore.
Raffe looked at the extremely wide and tall metal roll-up door, then
crouched and checked its lock. Garrett joined him, taking out a slim leather
pouch. He produced a steel rod with bent ends, which he used to pick the
lock.
I raised an eyebrow. “Really, Garrett?”
“What? I’m keeping my career options open, in case this warlock thing
doesn’t pan out,” he shot back with a devilish grin, then took the lock off and
got up.
Raffe pulled the door up, leaving a two-and-a-half-yard height of space
for us to walk through.
It was dark inside. Wade found the light switch to his right and pressed it.
As soon as the overhead neon strips flickered on, I knew we’d come upon
a treasure trove of disturbing yet crucial information. There were dozens of
wooden crates and storage boxes, each with an individual lock. We spread
out to check everything. In the middle was a large table, with piles of books
and manuscripts, rogue sheets of paper, and notepads with frantic scribbles.
One quick look, and I realized I was looking at spells and curse alterations.
“They’re using stolen magic,” Wade said, his brow furrowed as he
checked the papers. “They got some of these from our coven. I’m guessing
the rest came from other covens. They’re modifying and adjusting their
recipes and chants.”
“And they have plenty of supplies to go with them,” Santana said,
watching as Garrett picked the lock on one of the crates and revealed its
contents. It was filled with bottles and jars, strange powders and herbs. The
smell alone was enough to make me quiver. “This is all Dark stuff. Like, evil.
The predecessor of evil, actually.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“At first glance? This is ancient mojo,” Garrett explained. “Think two to
three thousand years back. It’s the kind of stuff that should’ve been lost in the
annals of history. Egyptian, Greek, Celtic… dealer’s choice. It’s raw and
difficult to work with.”
“Which would explain these alterations,” Wade concluded, pointing at the
notes. “They’re refurbishing the classics.”
“Guys. Look at this,” Dylan said, stopping by the eastern wall.
We all joined him, to find a giant corkboard mounted on it. Red string
and colored pins had been used to connect various locations and notes. There
were printed photos all over it. I held my breath as I recognized all the kids
we’d been looking for. Micah Cranston, Marjorie Phillips, Mina Travis, Min-
Ho Lee, Samson Prescott, Kenneth Willow, and a few others. Their snapshots
were all marked. There was a tick next to Micah, Mina, Min-Ho, Samson,
and four more kids under the age of twelve. Marjorie’s head was circled in
red. Louella Devereaux was crossed out, as were her parents.
Then, I noticed the other photos—all the parents. Half of them were
crossed out, like the Devereauxes. I was paralyzed by the conclusion. “They
crossed out the dead people… The ones they killed,” I whispered.
Kenneth Willow and three other teenagers were separated from the
cluster, with little hearts drawn in red around their faces. I assumed that was
psycho Emily Ryder’s way of pointing out that they’d gotten these kids on
their side. It made me sick to my stomach.
“Look here.” Tatyana pointed at several Post-It notes. “These are all
details of their abilities.”
“Who’s this?” Raffe asked, narrowing his eyes at another photo mounted
on the other side of the board. There were several red strings connected to it.
I moved over to get a better look, and instantly froze. I recognized the
light brown skin, the deep-set eyes, and crow-black hair, and around it all
was a very angry circle. Crippling fear took over.
They know about Jacob.
 THIRTY-FOUR

Harley

was unable to think. My brain was frozen, each synapse glitching with
I dread like nothing I’d ever experienced before. I’d been scared out of my
mind in the past, but not like this. I’d let Isadora and her cabbie/little helper
Dicky keep an eye on Jacob. I’d been comfortable with that idea, thinking
that the Ryders didn’t know about him.
But they did.
They were just saving the best for last. Based on how they’d marked all
the other people, it did seem like they’d yet to catch him. But that hardly
made me feel any better.
I couldn’t keep this to myself anymore. I had to tell Wade and the others.
However, I’d been hiding this from them for a while, now. Gah, they’re
going to be so, so mad.
“Are you okay?” Wade asked me, noticing my expression.
I couldn’t take my eyes off Jacob’s photo, partially because I was about
to tell Wade about him, and I was fearful of looking him in the eyes as I did
it.
“Um, no,” I said, my voice breaking.
“Call a support unit over here,” Garrett told Santana, somewhere in the
background of my unraveling horror picture show. “We need all this bagged
up and taken back to the coven.”
She did as asked, moving away from the corkboard to make the phone
call.
“What’s wrong?” Wade pressed. I could feel his eyes on me. My skin
burned.
“There’s something I didn’t tell you,” I said.
The silence that followed confirmed what I’d been fearful of. Wade was
about to get really, really mad.
“Harley. What’s going on? Do you know him?” Wade asked, pointing a
finger at Jacob. “If we’re to compare what we know with the markings on
this board, they’ve yet to catch him.”
“His name is Jacob. Jacob Morales,” I said. “He’s sixteen. A foster kid
and a magical, like me.”
“How do you know him?” Raffe asked. “He’s not on our list.”
“He wouldn’t be. He’s kept to himself, stayed under the radar, learned a
few tricks to control his abilities along the way,” I explained. “He’s afraid of
discovery… of the covens.”
“That doesn’t answer Raffe’s question,” Wade said sharply. “How do you
know him?”
“The Smiths took him in a few weeks back. My Smiths.” I sighed.
“And you didn’t tell us. You didn’t notify the coven, Alton… anyone,”
Wade concluded.
I shook my head slowly. “He begged me not to. Isadora asked me to keep
him hidden—”
“Isadora freaking Merlin?! You’re taking orders from her now?” Wade
exploded. “What the hell were you thinking, Harley?!”
“I didn’t see a Ryders card in the house! Isadora has been keeping an eye
on him. She rigged the house with charms and stuff! The Ryders were
targeting the people on our list!” I replied, raising my voice. “Isadora said
there were spies in the coven. That I couldn’t bring Jacob in because it was
too dangerous for him!”
“Why? All the kids would’ve been safer in the coven! Whatever charms
Isadora rigged your house with are worthless; we’ve seen that already!”
Wade shouted. “Had we brought them all in, none of them would be missing!
Their parents would still be alive! And we’ll all have that cross to bear,
forever. What makes Jacob so special that you couldn’t tell the coven about
him? That you couldn’t even tell me about him?”
A second went by as I chose my words carefully. “He can feel other
magicals,” I finally said. “He’s a living, breathing magical detector.”
Everyone was stunned, their jaws dropping and their eyes growing wider.
Shock crashed into me as they all wrapped their heads around this revelation.
It didn’t take long for Tatyana to figure out why I’d kept Jacob hidden.
“He’d be an invaluable asset,” she said. “The covens would be fighting
each other to get their hands on him. The rogues, too. Oh, not to mention
Katherine Shipton and… the Ryders.”
“I didn’t know they had their sights set on Jacob,” I replied, nodding at
the photo. “If I’d known, I would’ve dragged his ass into the coven myself,
whether he liked it or not. That would’ve been the lesser evil, all things
considered. I thought no one knew about him, and that he could go on like
that, at least for a little while. At least until we caught the Ryders and
Katherine Shipton. I… I was wrong.”
Wade scoffed. He was fuming. “You were more than wrong. You put his
life in danger. The Smiths’, too!”
“I know!” I cried out, tearing up. “Now, I know.”
With trembling hands, I took my phone number and speed-dialed Jacob.
“What are you doing?” Wade asked.
“Trying to call him,” I whispered. “No answer…”
Despair was taking over, cutting off my breath and making my entire
body shake. Tatyana put a hand on my back in an attempt to make me feel
better. It didn’t do much, but it did keep me focused long enough for me to
try calling the Smiths next. Still, no one was picking up.
“It’s just voicemail,” I said, looking at Wade. “They’re not answering my
calls. They always answer my calls.”
“I don’t get something,” Garrett said. “If the Ryders knew about Jacob,
why didn’t they leave a card? They must’ve known about your connection to
the Smiths. They wouldn’t have passed on the opportunity to taunt you… and
us.”
“I don’t think they knew where to find him,” I said.
“But they did,” Wade replied, pulling the photo from its pin and showing
it to me. “Look at the background.”
He was right. That photo had been taken outside the Smiths’ house. I
recognized the brickwork, the porch lighting. Oh God.
“Now I’m confused,” I breathed.
“If they knew and kept it from us, they probably meant business,” Garrett
suggested. “At least, that’s how I’m seeing it. Maybe they wanted to make
sure they got to him without your interference.”
Yet another horrible thought crossed my mind as I took a step back and
looked at the entire board again. “Or, maybe they somehow knew we were
coming. Maybe they knew I was only going to see this here, too late for me
to do anything. If we’re here, they’ll have sent their underlings over there.”
I heard a swoosh. My head snapped to the right, and I saw the flash of
enormous fireballs.
“Watch out!” I yelled, dropping to the ground.
The whole crew ducked the attack.
Four young magicals stood in the wide doorway, their Esprits lit up and
vicious grins slitting their faces. I recognized them all from the photos on the
corkboard—Kenneth Willow, Anna Phelps, Evie Ramirez, and David
Brooks. All magicals, all ticked as willing participants.
Behind them, Astrid was on the ground. For their sake, I hoped she was
just knocked out. My heart shrank painfully in my chest as I shot back to my
feet.
“Fancy running into all of you here.” Kenneth sneered. “I’m kidding. We
knew you were going to pay us a visit. This place is rigged to the ground.”
“Where are they?” I asked, gritting my teeth.
“I was wondering how long it would take you to find this place, though.
We’ve been waiting for you for what feels like forever now,” he replied, the
pin on his bow twinkling red. “Where’s who?”
“You’ve picked the wrong moment to play dumb,” Garrett said, taking a
step forward. I had to admit, I appreciated his bravery and rational thinking.
Despite his thorns, Garrett was a valuable magical.
“Oh, you’re looking for the kids!” Kenneth chuckled. “Sorry, can’t help
you. But they’re being well looked after, don’t worry.”
“Let me guess, Emily and Emmett Ryder have them,” I said.
Kenneth grinned, then gave me a wink. “Bingo!”
“Where’s Jacob?” I asked. It felt like a long shot, but I had to try.
“The wonder kid? Why? You want him? You’re a little too late for that,
cupcake, since you’re here, instead of watching over him. He’s being dealt
with,” Kenneth answered.
Garrett took another step forward, then gave Wade a brief nod over the
shoulder. Wade took a deep breath and shifted his weight onto his left leg. He
was about to attack.
“I’ve got a hot date tonight with a gorgeous pair of Puerto Rican twins. I
don’t want to be late for that, so why don’t you just cut to the chase? What do
you want?” Garrett asked.
“The Diaz sisters?” Santana replied, raising an eyebrow.
This was a deliberate exchange. It slightly confused the four hostiles.
Garrett smiled at Santana.
“Yup. You have no idea how hard I worked to get them both to say yes,”
he said. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting four psycho brats ruin this for
me.”
He didn’t wait for a response, and just darted forward. His Esprit watch
glistened a pale shade of blue, as the ocean rumbled by the shore—loud
enough for all of us to hear it. Garrett rammed into Kenneth and took him
down. At the same time, thick and flexible columns of ocean water shot
through the storage unit, extending like endless arms directly from the shore.
Each crashed into the other three magicals. It was incredible to watch, given
their arched stretch and the amount of water and raw force that each carried
with it.
That was all we needed to get on the offensive. Santana released her
Orishas and tackled Anna. The little sprites smacked her with high speed and
precision, hard enough to daze her and prevent her from casting any spells.
Wade and Raffe ganged up on Evie, who had a serious Fire game going.
She was quick in her releases, but both Wade and Raffe were too fast and
seasoned to let themselves get torched by fireballs. Wade shot out a
Telekinetic barrier that hit Evie right in the solar plexus, knocking the air out
of her lungs. She fell backward, and Raffe pinned a special charm into her
hand. It threw out a string of pure energy, which then tied itself around her
wrists.
The coven called it an Atomic Cuff, not only because of its composition,
but also because of its properties. Any attempt to tamper with that string of
pure energy would cause an explosion and potentially blow off Evie’s hands.
She stilled and cursed under her breath, realizing there wasn’t much she
could do at that point. She was done for.
Tatyana and I set our sights on David Brooks, the fourth evil minion
recruit. He wasn’t older than seventeen, and he was tall and wiry. His Esprit,
a silver bracelet, shone white as he put his hand out to launch a Telekinetic
attack.
I used my own Telekinesis to put out a shield, leaving room for Tatyana
to dash to our right, then circle around and come at him. David turned around
to stop her—that was my shot to take him down. Using my mental lasso
technique, I focused on the back of his neck. My hand moved as I launched
the “rope,” caught him, then jerked it back. It pulled him down, and he fell
backward.
Just as Tatyana was about to pin the Atomic Cuff on him, he kicked her
in the stomach. He whispered a curse and threw out a bright red pulse. It hit
both Tatyana and me with its short-range radius, and it felt like hot knives
piercing my skin. I gasped from the pain, rolling on the ground in a desperate
attempt to stop it from burning me alive—at least, that’s how it felt, since I
couldn’t see any flames.
I reached a hand out, the sapphire on my Esprit lighting up blue. The
ocean rumbled, not far away, and, a couple of seconds later, I managed to
draw enough water out to splash all over me. By the time I got back up,
David had vanished.
Tatyana was on the ground, writhing in agony. Whatever curse that was,
it could be counteracted with water. I pulled another stream of water from the
ocean and used it to hose Tatyana down.
She instantly relaxed, smiling as the water cooled her down.
“That’s the Ardenti Pellis curse,” she breathed. I helped her up. “How’d
you know to stop it? I’m screwed without a Water ability like yours.”
“I didn’t know. My skin was on fire, and I thought water would stop it,” I
replied.
She chuckled. “Smart girl.”
We both heard Garrett cry out in pain. Kenneth had just taken him down
with what looked like Telekinesis. Garrett was on his back, and Kenneth was
chanting something that filled Tatyana with dread—it nearly froze the blood
in my veins.
“Oh, no,” Tatyana murmured. “The beastly curse again. Son of a—”
I sent out a Telekinetic pulse of my own, enough to knock him to the side
and interrupt his chanting. Garrett scrambled backward, desperate to get away
from him. Tatyana ran toward Kenneth, taking out another Atomic Cuff to
immobilize him before he could do any more damage.
Kenneth sprang to his feet, then laughed as he moved back. His grin
faded when he saw Anna get immobilized by Wade and Raffe. Two down,
and only Kenneth left in the storage unit. I stepped toward him, my fingers
wiggling as I produced two fireballs with both hands.
He saw me, then snorted. “Good luck finding your Indian boy.”
I threw both fireballs at once, with such rage and energy that they
continued to swell as they hurled toward him. “He’s Native American, you
tool!” I grunted.
Kenneth put a Telekinetic shield out, blocking my hits—however, the
blow was powerful enough to push him back by a couple of feet. I kept firing,
pummeling him and his shield. Kenneth bared his teeth at me like a furious
animal.
“Hera, dóse mou tin anása sou,” he barked, then bit into his palm and
pressed it against the invisible shield he’d been holding up against my fire
attacks.
The moment his blood touched the shield, a powerful energy pulse was
released—much stronger than the flash of red that had made my skin feel like
it was burning. It knocked everybody back like the shockwave of a controlled
explosion.
I wound up tumbling across the ground, thrown backward like a test
dummy.
Once I came to a scratchy halt, I looked up. Kenneth had vanished.
“Ugh, he used Hera’s Breath, a Greek attack spell. I hate Greek magic!”
Tatyana groaned.
Evie and Anna were down, bound with the Atomic Cuffs. Wade and
Raffe were the first to get up and run out, searching for Kenneth and David,
but, judging by the frustration oozing out of them as they came back, both
were long gone.
Tatyana helped me up, while Santana and Garrett shook the scuffle
bruises off and proceeded to pull Evie and Anna up. Dylan was already by
Astrid’s side—she was starting to come to. My relief was short-lived, though.
“They might have Jacob already,” I said.
“Then we’ll have to find them and get him back,” Wade replied, his brow
furrowed.
Therein lay the challenge, the source of my increasing despair. Where
was Jacob? Were the Smiths okay? Where did we even begin to look for the
kids?
 THIRTY-FIVE

Harley

ith our Bluetooth earpieces on and connected to our internal comms

W network, we jumped back in our cars, leaving the newly arrived team of
security magicals to take care of Anna and Evie and to collect all the
evidence we’d gathered from inside the storage facility.
I drove behind Wade’s Jeep as he took sharp turns, left and right through
the city, making our way toward the Smiths’ house. Something was wrong
over there. I could feel it in my bones. I didn’t say anything for a while,
instead listening to Garrett, Santana, and Raffe as they talked to Wade,
Tatyana, Dylan, and Astrid about these new developments.
“We’re going to the Smiths’ place first,” Wade replied through the
earpiece. “If there’s nothing there, we’ll have to lean on Evie and Anna.”
“Thinking of employing unorthodox interrogation methods?” Garrett
chuckled.
“Whatever it takes,” Wade replied.
I blinked several times to stop my tears from flowing. I felt horrible, on
top of the physical pain. A few more tumbles like the one in the storage unit,
and I was going to finally break some ribs.
“Harley, we’ll find him,” Santana said, noticing my angst. “Don’t worry.
We’ll get Jacob back.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Wade retorted.
That felt like a punch in the gut. “You know what, Wade? I’m sorry,
okay?” I snapped. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you or anyone else about Jacob. I
am! But I’m not going to apologize for what made me keep quiet! I believed
Isadora when she said there are spies in the coven. Finch was a prime
example, and we all know he couldn’t be the only one. After all, how did the
Ryders know to chase down our magical kids, from our list? They got that
information from inside the coven, for sure. So, yeah, I was wrong to not tell
you about it, but, come on. Look at the state of our so-called society! We’re
busy gathering points and following the rules, while Katherine Shipton gets
Tweedledee and Tweedledum to do her dirty work for her, kidnapping
magicals they can’t recruit and killing their parents!”
“You didn’t trust me, Harley!” Wade shot back. “You should’ve at least
trusted me!”
“I made a mistake, okay? I trusted Isadora. She’s family. That means
something to me,” I replied. “And you know what? I’m starting to think she
was right. If I’d brought Jacob in, he would’ve been fair game for a lot of
people. Given his abilities, Alton would never let him go. Jacob would never
get a chance at a normal life, if he wants one, not even as a Neutral. They’d
keep him on lockdown simply because of how many rogues like Katherine &
co. would kill to get their claws on him!”
I took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly as I gathered my thoughts.
“This entire mission has been difficult, from the very beginning. We
chose to leave the kids with their families, thinking the alarm charms would
help. The Ryders were one step ahead of us on that—they probably had
inside help for that, too. Our collective choices have led to the deaths of
innocent people. But in hindsight, now that we have clear evidence of spies in
our coven, do you really think any of the new magicals would be 100 percent
safe with us?” I added.
A minute passed in awkward silence.
“You know, she has a point, Wade,” Santana said. “Someone’s been
helping the Ryders from inside. They supplied them with the list and details
for each of those kids. They gave them forbidden spells and curses. Some of
the stuff in the storage unit is some pretty hardcore magic, from our archives.
If we brought Jacob in, he would’ve been a sitting duck for whoever’s
working with the Ryders. It wouldn’t take much to make someone disappear.
I mean, come on, let’s face it, even with additional security and whatever,
nothing’s really impenetrable in our world. Magicals always find a way in.
Or out.”
“We would’ve at least kept the boy in a secure location,” Wade replied. “I
would’ve had him stay with Tobe, for example. Who in their right mind
would so much as try to do something to the Beast Master, huh?”
“Finch pretended to be Tobe and got him arrested for a couple of hours,”
I pointed out. “Enough for him to set all the gargoyles loose at once.”
“That’s a completely different thing, and you know it! I’m not—”
“Enough!” Garrett shouted, cutting Wade off. “Enough with the
bickering, okay? Jeez! First of all, you’re both right. Harley should’ve told
you, Wade, but, at the same time, she was wise to keep her trap shut, since I
don’t think you would’ve kept it to yourself. I know you better than you
think. You would’ve told Alton eventually. Having a natural magical detector
in our possession is like having the power of a dang god. I’m well aware of
how important Jacob is. Now, let that go, already. This isn’t the first time any
of us made poor choices, nor the last!” He paused and threw me a sideways
grin. “Harley, don’t take Wade’s words to heart. If he’s this angry and hung
up on the issue, it’s because he likes you and you hurt his feelings.”
“Wait, what? Garrett, shut the—”
Garrett chuckled as he interrupted Wade again. “Give it a rest, Crowley.
You’re mad because you care.”
“I agree with Garrett on this one,” Santana chimed in from the backseat.
“He gets intense when he’s emotionally invested.”
Even so, it still hurt me deeply. I couldn’t stand the thought of Wade
being angry with me, though I knew I’d brought it on myself. I was already
going through sheer emotional torture as I prayed to find Jacob at the Smiths’
place, alive and in one piece. Feeling Wade’s wrath and disappointment on
top of that was too much.
I decided, then and there, to put all those thoughts aside, choosing to
focus exclusively on Jacob and the Ryders. I was ready to haul those twins to
hell if they so much as touched a hair on the kid’s or the Smiths’ heads.
Good people didn’t deserve to get dragged into this mess.
 THIRTY-SIX

Tatyana

was in the front passenger seat, with a full view of a grumpy Wade.
I If not for the dreadful situation at hand, I would’ve found this situation
amusing. We all knew he had a soft spot for Harley, and that her choice to
withhold knowledge of Jacob from the coven had hit him hard. However, I
also agreed with Garrett—which was quite astonishing, considering that, up
until a few days ago, I would’ve rather chewed glass than work with him.
Wade turned his Bluetooth earpiece off, prompting us to do the same. We
were just a couple of blocks away from the Smiths’ place now, and the
tension was high, keeping my pulse racing.
“You know Harley had good intentions, right?” I asked him.
He exhaled sharply. “It doesn’t excuse her actions.”
Astrid reached out from the backseat and smacked him on the shoulder.
“Wade Crowley!” she said, sounding like a very angry mom. “After
everything we’ve all been through, and especially Harley, you choose to be a
jerk! Enough with the drama, already! Either tone it down or ask the girl out
on a date. This is getting ridiculous.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Wade asked, visibly annoyed.
“Puh-lease! You know damn well what I’m talking about,” Astrid replied,
leaning back into her seat.
“You’re wrong,” Wade insisted. “This isn’t about me lashing out due to
some… unresolved feelings or whatever. This is about trust. Which she
broke. I trusted her. She made a mistake, and she needs to stew in it, at least
for a little while.”
“Oh. So, it’s not enough that she’s got this horrible family history to deal
with, along with these missing kids. You want to pile on this crap and make it
worse. Got it,” Astrid said. “I thought you were more mature than this.”
“She needs to understand that there are consequences to her actions,”
Wade replied, gritting his teeth.
“Harley is already going through hell right now, not knowing what
happened to Jacob and her foster parents—if they’re even okay!” Astrid said,
holding her ground. “Wade, I get why this whole thing about Jacob upset
you, but you have to move past it, and quickly. We don’t have time for
grudges. Not now. Not with everything that’s on the line here.”
Dylan cleared his throat. “You should also try to understand Harley’s
point of view. I totally get why she’d be reluctant to bring Jacob in. The
entire magical world would pounce on the poor boy.”
“As for your feelings regarding Harley, pardon me, but the jury is still out
on that one,” I chimed in.
Wade sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Why are you all ganging up
on me?”
Astrid giggled. “You deserve it. Now, let the attitude go, and be a good
friend to the Merlin girl if you want her to stay.”
Our fleeting moment was already over as we pulled up outside the
Smiths’ house. Something was definitely off, starting with the exterior aspect
of the property. Runes had been spray-painted across the brick walls, and the
front door was open.
As we tumbled out of the car, the silence pouring out of the house was
downright deafening. I dry-swallowed, hoping to get rid of the lump in my
throat. Wade motioned for us to turn our Bluetooth pieces back on.
“This isn’t good,” Astrid whispered.
“Stay in the car,” Wade replied. “You’re banged up enough as it is. Call
for any available magical security units, too. See who’s closest to our
location.”
Astrid nodded, then unlocked the screen on her tablet and got back inside
the Jeep, while Wade, Dylan, and I moved closer to each other, unable to take
our eyes off the Smiths’ house. Harley’s Mustang reached us, and she pulled
up behind Wade’s Jeep.
 Something was awfully wrong with this picture, and, judging by the look
on Harley’s face, she knew it, too.
 THIRTY-SEVEN

Harley

ear curled up in the pit of my stomach, scratching at my insides.

F We regrouped just outside the Smiths’ house, all of us confused by the
symbols painted on its exterior walls. The open door wasn’t a good sign,
either.
“What are those runes?” Tatyana asked. “I don’t recognize any of them.”
“Me neither,” Wade said, frowning.
Garrett breathed out. “They can’t be good.” Then he looked at me.
“Unless your Auntie Isadora painted them? I’m guessing she’s much more
versed in magic than we are, given her years of experience.”
I shook my head. “I doubt it. She had small runes painted in the corners.
These… These give me a bad vibe.”
I checked my phone. No messages. No missed calls. I tried calling Jacob
again. Still no answer.
“Chances are there may be hostiles inside,” Wade said. “We should learn
from what we’ve seen so far. It could be a trap.”
“Okay, so, how do we do this? We have to get Jacob and the Smiths to
safety,” I answered.
He looked at me, and I was instantly filled with his fear and
determination—equal quantities, rippling through me like a bad fever. We
were all scared, but we had to keep moving. If dark forces were at work here,
we had to stop them. There was no other choice.
 “You and I go through the back,” Wade said. “The rest of the team takes
the front. If anyone’s waiting in there and they’re not friendly, it’ll be up to
you and me to take them down. Can I count on you, Harley?”
“You know damn well that’s a yes,” I said.
“Good,” he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching. I figured that was
our way of making peace. It gave me a sense of direction. “Earpieces on.”
We split up. Garrett led Santana, Raffe, Tatyana, and Dylan in through
the front door, while Wade and I snuck through the back. The large spray-
painted symbols weren’t the only new additions to the Smiths’ house. The
backyard was riddled with animal bones, positioned in the shape of a symbol
—a circle surrounding a triangle, with a small green fire burning in the
middle.
“That’s weird. What’s that?” I asked, keeping my voice down.
“It’s a Gaelic Battery,” he replied, then walked toward it. “Astrid,
whoever you’ve got coming from security, tell them to be on high alert.
Hostiles have been draining energy from nearby residents using a Gaelic
Battery.”
“Roger that,” Astrid replied, her voice audible in our open channel.
“What does it do?” I whispered.
Wade kicked some of the bones away with his shoes. The green fire in the
middle began to shrink, releasing white sparks. “It hijacks the energy
produced by humans within a three-mile radius,” he whispered. “Whoever is
around it gets tapped into. Magicals can use their energy to increase the
power of their spells,” he added, then stomped the fire out completely.
Suddenly, I felt like I could breathe a little easier. “Did the battery tap
into us, too?”
“For a couple of minutes, yes,” he replied. “Garrett? What’s it looking
like in there?”
There was no answer from Garrett. Wade took a deep breath, his Esprit
rings glowing white.
He mumbled a spell under his breath, closing his eyes in the process. A
bright blue pulse shot out of him, flitting through the air. The sound reminded
me of a swarm of birds flying at once. I instantly recognized the magic at
work here—a time lapse. It spread outward and settled in the shape of a giant
globe that swallowed the entire property. But it didn’t last. It crackled and
flashed white before it vanished into thin air.
 “What the…” I said.
“It’s not working,” Wade concluded. “I can’t put out a time lapse. I think
it may have something to do with those symbols,” he said, nodding at the
house. “Garrett? Santana? Anyone?”
Still, no one replied. That made me feel uneasy. But I couldn’t stay out
here for another second. If something was going down inside, I had to be
there. Wade seemed to read my mind. He joined me as we slipped through
the kitchen’s back door. Thankfully, the sliding mechanism was quiet. I was
careful to close the door behind me. If any hostile thought of escaping, I
certainly wasn’t going to make it easy on them.
Everything looked fine in the kitchen. Nothing out of place. No sign of
struggle. But the air felt thick and heavy. Fear rumbled through me… It
wasn’t mine, though.
I looked at Wade, and he brought his index finger up to his lips. We were
going to do this quietly. We made our way through the narrow hallway
leading into the living room on the right and the den on the left, which the
Smiths had recently converted into a game and reading room.
I saw Garrett and the others slowly advancing through the front corridor.
We were all going to meet in the middle, where the two double archways
awaited, on both sides. As parts of the living room came into view, my heart
skipped a beat. I moved to get there faster, but Wade put his arm out and held
me back. I gave him a questioning glance, to which he responded with a
sullen glare. His nerves were stretched to their limits, but I could feel his
anticipation. He’d noticed something that drove him to keep me from going
farther.
We both heard the muffled gasps. Just as Garrett and the others stopped
in front of the living room, I craned my neck and froze, identifying the
sources of the noise. Mr. and Mrs. Smith were tied up in a couple of
armchairs, facing the archway entrance. They didn’t look injured, externally.
But they were terrified. Their feelings suddenly exploded through me, dread
crystallizing in my veins.
“What the—” Garrett was the first to react to the sight of the Smiths in
their chairs. He and Tatyana rushed to release them, when a familiar voice cut
through from the den.
“Don’t move, Shifty,” a male said.
Everybody froze, then slowly turned their heads to look behind them.
Wade shifted us both to the right wall of the corridor. We had enough of a
view from that angle to see… Emily and Emmett, the latter holding a long
knife up to Jacob’s throat.
Horror crippled me almost entirely as I tried to make sense of what I was
seeing.
“Let me guess,” Tatyana said, then pointed at the girl first. “You’re
Emily.” She shifted her gaze and index finger to the guy next. “And you’re
Emmett. Together, you’re the infamous Ryder twins.”
Emmett grinned. “I love hearing that. I guess our marketing game is on
point.”
“Don’t kid yourself. Those crappy business cards were an absolute waste
of paper,” Santana retorted. One by one, a dozen bright green Orishas shot
out of her.
“Ah, ah, ah!” Emily warned her, pressing the blade against Jacob’s throat.
“Don’t do something stupid, unless you want me to redecorate this den in
fresh red.”
The fear I’d been sensing earlier was Jacob’s and the Smiths’, but it had
already morphed into paralyzing dread—the kind that shut an entire system
down. Mrs. Smith was crying, tears streaming down her cheeks. Mr. Smith
was trying to say something, but the tape on his mouth turned his words into
muffled noises. My heart broke to see them like this, and the horror they were
experiencing almost paralyzed me. Despair smashed into me repeatedly, like
debilitating waves that cut my breath off.
I got them in this mess. I’m getting them out.
Garrett gave us a discreet sideways glance. It was his way of telling us to
stay back. Wade’s scenario had come true, and I had to learn to trust his
judgment better.
“What are you two scabs doing here?” Garrett asked the twins.
“Isn’t it obvious? We were planning a surprise party for you all!” Emily
giggled.
“Yeah, bad idea. Security magicals are on their way as we speak,”
Santana replied, her Orishas orbiting nervously around her. I could almost
feel their frustration. We would’ve loved nothing more than to tear into the
Ryders, right then and there. But they’d prepared their playing field—a little
too well, in fact.
Emmett chuckled. “We know. But you’re still screwed. We rigged this
entire place to blow up into tiny little pieces. The moment you went past
those lovely runes outside, you triggered the whole spell. If anyone else sets
foot through the door, poof!”
“That’s a bit suicidal,” Santana said.
Emily shrugged. “You continue to underestimate us.”
A couple of seconds went by as I thought about possible courses of
action. With the Smiths’ and Jacob’s lives hanging in the balance, there
wasn’t much we could do. The Ryders had us right where they wanted us.
“I take it your real goal was to get the kid,” Garrett said, nodding at a
perplexed and terrified Jacob.
“Obviously!” Emily exclaimed. “Jakey here is a gamechanger for what
we’ve got planned!”
“Why? What makes him so special?” Garrett asked.
Emmett laughed. “Oh, man, you people really suck at your jobs, you
know that? Don’t tell me you’re not aware of Jake’s abilities!”
“Enlighten me,” Garrett said, remarkably calm, despite the twinkle in his
Esprit wristwatch.
“Nah. I’m not wasting my time with a coven drone,” Emmett replied.
“Get me Harley. She’s the one I want to talk to.”
“Emmett, honey, someone broke the battery out back,” Emily said. I
assumed she’d finally sensed the dimming in her power levels.
Emmett narrowed his eyes at Garrett. “You found our little gadget
already?”
“Mm-hm,” Garrett replied. He had no idea what Emmett was talking
about, but he played along nonetheless.
“That’s cool. We’ve got enough to turn you all to dust, anyway,” Emmett
said. “This day will go down in history, I tell ya!”
“Oh, yeah. Katie’s going to be so proud of us!” Emily chimed in like the
little psychopath that she was. “We really brought our A game to this crappy
town!”
Referring to the queen of evil as “Katie” sounded odd and downright
mismatched, and definitely too cute for the monster that Katherine Shipton
really was. But, then again, none of her followers seemed anywhere near the
“normal” bar, so I pushed the thought aside.
Garrett groaned, rolling his eyes. “Ugh. Don’t tell me you’re shilling for
Katherine Shipton. That’s just pathetic.”
 “Why? She’s only the most powerful Dark witch of the century. Soon,
she’ll become a Child of Chaos,” Emmett spat. “She’ll command Chaos
itself. She’ll decide who deserves the power, and she’ll reward those loyal to
her. We’d be idiots not to join her, given what she’s got planned for you and
your stupid, bureaucratic nightmares posing as covens!”
“What has she got planned, exactly?” Tatyana replied. “Get two more
suckers to kill innocent people, since Finch got caught?”
Emmett laughed again. His guffaw gave me actual goosebumps. “Again
with the idiotic assumptions. Shut your trap, Tatyana, and get me Harley. I’ve
got a message for her,” he spat. “Harley! I know you’re here, honey! You’re
too weak to stay away from an obvious trap! Come on! Join us!”
Wade gripped my wrist, shaking his head at me.
“Okay, let’s up the stakes a little bit,” Emily said. She raised her voice,
calling out to me. “Harley, if you don’t get your ass in here in the next ten
seconds, I’m going to fillet Mrs. Smith like a fish! Your choice, sweetheart.”
I pulled my hand away from Wade and motioned for him to stay back,
then advanced through the hallway slowly enough for the Ryders to see me
coming. They both grinned, eyeing me like I was their Sunday dinner.
“There you are!” Emmett exclaimed. “Harley Merlin. The rising star of
the San Diego Coven. The lost child of America’s most powerful magical
bloodlines. The kid with the grit!”
He and Emily suddenly shifted before my very eyes, their bones cracking
and skin rippling as they turned into Mr. and Mrs. Smith—the real ones were
still gagged and terrified in their chairs. It was a punch in the gut, but I didn’t
want to show them that, so I forced myself to keep a straight face. Laughing,
Emmett and Emily reverted to their original forms. This was miles beyond
creepy.
“I’m sorry, is this supposed to be psychological torture, or are you trying
to kiss my ass?” I asked, putting my hands up. I briefly glanced at the Smiths,
who were stunned to see me here, unable to understand anything that was
going on. I mouthed an “I’m sorry,” at them, then shifted my focus back to
the Ryders and Jacob. “Hey, Jake. Sorry I’m a little late.”
“Uh, it’s okay,” Jacob said, his voice trembling.
“Yeah, we’ve been waiting for you!” Emily cut in.
“I take it the whole storage unit scene was set up to keep us busy while
you slathered your filthy magic all over the Smiths’ house and took them
hostage?” I asked, my tone clipped. “You must’ve somehow had us followed
to time this so well.”
“You’re not as dumb as I thought you were,” Emily replied dryly. I didn’t
need to feel her to know that she and her brother absolutely hated my guts. It
was written on their fake faces. “But you’re almost half-right. We didn’t have
to follow you anywhere. We knew it would only be a matter of time before
you found the warehouse, so we had our loyal apprentices rig the daylights
out of it. Once we knew you were there, we could come here and set up this
fabulous ensemble.”
“How about you tell us what’s with this whole Child of Chaos crap,
instead of droning on and on like two wannabe megalomaniacs? What’s the
deal with the kids? Is Katherine building an army?” I asked. “Or a
kindergarten?”
Emmett sighed. “You’d love to know more, wouldn’t you? Sorry, toots,
you don’t tell us what to do. You don’t make the rules. We do!”
“Okay. Cool. So, what now? I’m here,” I replied. “At least let the Smiths
go. They’ve got nothing to do with this.”
Emily laughed. She was making it very hard for me not to hurl a heavy
object at her. “Harley! The Smiths have everything to do with this!” she said.
“Who do you think made sure that they took Jakey here in?!”
Oh, no…
“You knew Jake was here from the very beginning,” I murmured, the
whole picture looking a lot clearer. I broke into a cold sweat. Jacob had no
idea. He was so confused, the poor thing.
“Yes!” Emily said. “We made sure Jakey came here after we found him
in the foster system, because we needed him out here for you to find him
next. Katie thought of it. Personally, I loved the idea. Emmett wasn’t entirely
on board at first, but when he saw you fawning over this new little brother,
even he had to agree that Katie is a damn genius.”
“Katherine wanted me to meet Jacob here, for you to then take him
away,” I concluded, the full extent of Katherine Shipton’s viciousness slowly
dawning on me.
Emily nodded enthusiastically. “And we got the Smiths as a bonus!”
“No, they have nothing to do with this! They didn’t… They don’t know
anything!” I shot back.
“Like we care about that,” Emmett said. “Honey, this is all about you.
Well, granted, it’s also about this precious little kid here, but it’s mostly
about you and how you’re about to watch the people you love die… in
agony,” he added, then looked at his sister. “Care to do the honors?”
“Absolutely,” Emily replied with a grin.
She pushed Jacob to the side as Emmett took her place in keeping him
still with a knife against his throat. She then used her blade to carve a
Chinese symbol into the palm of her hand, whispering a spell in Mandarin.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice hoarse.
“Oh, you’ll love this part.” Emmett snickered.
“Crap,” Garrett muttered.
“Crap, what?” I asked, shooting him a glance over my shoulder.
“Death by a Thousand Cuts,” he said, his eyes bugging. “She’s casting
Death by a Thousand Cuts.”
It didn’t take long for me to remember the curse. I’d read about it during
International Magical Cultures classes. It was a horrid thing to put someone
through. I moved to stop Emily, but Emmett threateningly cleared his throat,
reminding me that he still had Jacob.
Emily finished the incantation and slapped the carved palm against her
chest. A red pulse shot out of her, before vanishing into thin air. Silence
settled for about a second, until Mrs. Smith’s muffled scream made my blood
curdle.
One by one, deep cuts were showing on her legs, the blood seeping
through the beige fabric of her pants. This was a literal disaster unfolding, as
the ancient Chinese curse was extremely literal. The victim suffered a
thousand cuts, bleeding out in the end. Time was running out for Mrs. Smith,
and I felt excruciatingly helpless.
 THIRTY-EIGHT

Harley

very thirty seconds brought with them a new cut, the curse working its
E way up to Mrs. Smith’s knees. She struggled against her restraints, her
screams muffled by the gag. I had to do something. I couldn’t let this go on.
“What do you want?!” I shouted at the Ryders.
“Take off your Esprit and toss it to the side,” Emily commanded.
That wasn’t a good idea. I’d grown accustomed to using my powers with
it. It had become a part of me, and without it, I didn’t have the same strength
and precision.
“Do it now, or I’ll have the hubby join in on the fun!” Emily added,
gritting her teeth.
The last thing I wanted was for the same to happen to Mr. Smith. He was
already crying out against his gag, tearing up as he watched his wife suffer. I
took my Esprit off and tossed it on the floor. My brain was working fast,
looking for ways out of this mess.
“What do you want?” I asked again.
“Why, for you to suffer, of course!” Emily answered. “We’ve been at this
for a long time, pumpkin. It’s good to see it all finally come to fruition!”
“A new age is coming, Harley Merlin,” Emmett hissed. “Katie will
ascend as a Child of Chaos. She’ll lead us into the future if we help her, and
here we are, doing just that!”
“Again with that bucket of crazy,” I snapped. “You’ve been
impersonating social workers and coven representatives, recruiting young
blood—and when that didn’t work as well as you’d hoped, you started
kidnapping them and killing their parents. Some of the kids, like Marjorie
Phillips, ran off before you could get your claws on them, huh?”
Emily and Emmett didn’t say anything, but they both looked annoyed. I
figured it was my chance to rile them up some more. Wade was still in the
house, looking for a smart entry angle. I just had to play my cards right and
take these two monsters down. The Ryders were worse than any of the
creatures held in the Bestiary. At least those were mindless creatures of pure,
toxic Chaos. Most couldn’t control what they were. Emily and Emmett, on
the other hand, were perfectly aware of what they were doing. To me, that
was unforgivable.
“Let me guess. Your boss, Katherine Shipton, has had you do her dirty
work for quite some time, right? You, Finch, and who knows what other
suckers she got to,” I continued. “But, you see, you underestimated the San
Diego Coven, and, most importantly, you underestimated me. We caught
some of your kids. They’ll rat you all out sooner or later. The coven knows
we’re here. They know you’re here, too,” I said, pointing at my earpiece.
Emily sneered. “I told you. Anyone sets foot in here, and you’re all blown
to bits.”
“You won’t be able to hold them off forever. You know that, right? By
the way, where’s Katherine? Why isn’t she here, huh?” I asked, then
chuckled. “You’re cannon fodder, you dweebs. Whatever she wants to get
out of this whole thing, she failed. And you’re the ones taking the fall for it.”
“And that is where you’re wrong. Katie has new recruits now. She’s
spreading the word and setting the stage, Harley. We all have our part to
play,” Emily retorted.
“Besides, we already have what we came for,” Emmett said, nodding at
Jacob, then at the Smiths. “We’ve got this little tyke here, and your beloved
foster parents—again, Katie’s idea, by the way. The downside is that we
couldn’t get to Jakey ourselves, once he joined the Smiths.”
“Why not? You’re Shapeshifters. You could be anyone you want,” I fired
back.
Emmett scoffed. “He’s a Sensate, you idiot! Besides, you kept popping
up like a persistent zit by the time Katie gave us the green light to go after
him.”
 I glanced back at Mrs. Smith, the pain suddenly unbearable. It burned
through me, almost melting my skin off. Her agonized expression sent chills
down my spine as the cuts grew increasingly worse. We had to stop this.
Now.
“Why not just compel him? Why all the elaborate theatrics?” Garrett
asked, pretending to play along.
Emmett groaned. “It turns out Jakey here is immune to every mind
control spell possible. It’s in his genes. Chaos designed him to be the perfect
tool. We needed him to get emotionally attached to someone so he could
lower his guard.”
“Then along came Harley Merlin, with her ethics and feels and all that
garbage. And it worked,” Emily said, grinning.
“What does Katherine plan to do with him?” I asked, my blood boiling.
Emmett nudged Jacob. “Show her, Jakey. Show her why you’re so
precious.”
Jacob sighed, then slowly put his hand out to the side, his eyes fixed on
mine.
“Careful, though!” Emily warned him. “Don’t do anything stupid!”
Jacob began to tremble. The air moaned and rippled by his hand, before a
bright blue gash tore through the very fabric of our reality. I was breathless.
“You’re a Portal Opener, too,” I gasped.
How the heck did he have so many rare abilities? What was so special
about him?
I wasn’t going to get answers to those questions anytime soon. Saving
him and Mrs. Smith was a priority, and I had to figure out a way to get to
them before it was too late.
“This boy is truly precious!” Emily exclaimed, while Jacob closed the
wormhole, his hands shaking. “The moment he started talking to magical
rogues, we had a line on him. Took us a while to find him, though. The little
scab sure knows how to hide!”
“And all these machinations so you could grab him and hurt me,” I
concluded, then looked at Jacob, the obvious idea hitting me. “How well can
you control your wormholes?” I asked him.
Jacob’s brow furrowed. “I’m still getting the hang of the destinations, but
there are a few places I’ve been to, repeatedly.” Somewhere in the back of his
head, I hoped the same idea was shaping up.
 Though the Ryder twins weren’t going to make it that easy.
“You’re not going anywhere anymore unless we tell you to,” Emily
retorted, narrowing her eyes at me. “Katie wants you to feel loss and guilt,
helplessness and despair. We’re here to make sure that happens.”
“Katie underestimates me,” I spat, my fists balled at my sides. “Besides,
she’s nineteen years too late to this party,” I added, pointing a thumb at
myself. “Jake, remember that brief talk we had last Sunday, about control and
determination?” I asked. Jacob nodded quickly. “I need you to apply what I
said to everything you do. It’s universally true.”
“What is this? Pep talk crap hour?” Emily snorted.
Just then, Wade emerged from the wall between the bathroom and the
den. The Ryders had warded the outer walls, but they hadn’t thought to do
the same to the interior. Then again, they didn’t know exactly what Wade
was capable of, where magic spells were concerned. In this case, I, too, was
astonished.
Emily and Emmett didn’t see or hear him come in behind them. I nodded
at Jacob. He was quick to understand what he had to do, and he discreetly
wiggled his fingers and opened up another wormhole—this time behind the
Ryders and Wade. They didn’t even know what was coming.
“The Death by a Thousand Cuts curse starts with a hex bag,” Garrett
hissed behind me. “Take these bastards away, and we’ll handle things here.
Mrs. Smith has a few minutes before the cuts get closer to deadly.”
“Please hurry!” I gasped, trying so hard not to tear up from the Smiths’
emotions, and Mrs. Smith’s increasingly desperate screams.
The Ryders seemed confused. “What? No one’s going anywhere—”
Emmett said, but got cut off when Wade slipped an arm around his neck and
jerked him backward.
I dashed forward and tackled Emily. We fell through the wormhole. I
heard Jacob cry out. I landed on top of Emily, on a patch of grass. She
punched me in the ribs and pushed me aside.
I quickly glanced around and recognized our new location. Waterfront
Park.
Then a punch rammed into the back of my head, and everything went
white.
 THIRTY-NINE

Tatyana

ind the hex bags!” Garrett shouted, anxiously looking around the living
“F room.
The curse was still cutting away at Mrs. Smith, moving past her knees
now. Her pants were drenched in blood. Dylan, Santana, and I turned the
entire room upside down, tossing pillows away from the sofas, checking
every nook and cranny in search of two small leather pouches.
Garrett whispered a spell in Mrs. Smith’s ear, making her pass out. He
gave Mr. Smith an apologetic smile as he untied him. “Sorry, sir, I had to do
something to ease her pain until we break the curse,” he told him.
“What the hell is happening here? Who are you people? What… What’s
happening to my wife?!” Mr. Smith stammered as soon as Garrett took the
gag off.
Garrett pressed two fingers against his forehead, knocking him out as
well. “Not a good time to explain all this,” he replied, settling Mr. Smith on
the floor.
“I can’t find the damn things anywhere!” Santana gasped, then rushed
into the den.
Dylan made his way into the kitchen. I could hear dishes and pots being
moved, the clanking noises adding to my anxiety. Every second that went by
brought more deep flesh cuts to Mrs. Smith’s legs. Garrett grabbed one of the
woolen throws from the sofa and ripped it into several pieces, using them to
apply pressure on her calf wounds.
“If we don’t find those hex bags soon, she’s going to bleed out,” Garrett
said to me.
“Santana! Anything?” I called out.
“Dammit! No!” she shouted as she came out of the den. She raced up the
stairs. Based on the noises coming from above, she was tossing and trashing
everything, in a frantic search for the hex bags.
My heart was pumping, worried sick, not only about Mrs. Smith, but also
about Harley, Wade, and Jacob. They had two raging psychopaths to deal
with.
Santana came back downstairs, cursing in Spanish.
She plopped herself down in the middle of the living room, crossing her
legs. “I couldn’t find anything. My Orishas can give it a try.”
She closed her eyes, took three deep breaths, and exhaled. Green sprite
lights came out of her. I counted twelve as they shot out and buzzed through
the room. They quickly spread out, swooshing anxiously and bursting
through the walls.
If anything of Chaotic origin could find an expertly hidden hex bag, it
was an Orisha. With twelve of them, I hoped that we stood a chance.
I settled by Mrs. Smith’s side, joining Garrett in tending to her wounds,
as more opened along her hips and across her stomach. Blood was beginning
to pool beneath her, drenching the carpet. I swallowed back tears as I
desperately thought of other ways to stop her from dying. I had to dig deep
into my arsenal of dark magic to stop the curse from killing her.
I uttered a string of old Russian spells to slow everything down in Mrs.
Smith. It bought her a handful of precious seconds, but we needed to find
those hex bags.
 FORTY

Harley

t took me a couple of seconds to regain my eyesight.

I The image before me became disturbingly clear when I saw Emily
tackling Jacob, shoving his head into the ground. Wade shot to his feet and
pushed out a time-lapse bubble with a fifty-yard radius, the air glimmering
blue all around us.
Emmett took him on, using a combination of Telekinesis and physical
attacks, but Wade stood his ground, employing his own exquisite skills.
Wade’s military-type training was obvious, compared to Emmett’s raw and
inconsequential moves. My warlock launched fireballs in quick succession,
following up on each round with a Telekinetic pulse. Still, Emmett was
ferocious and fast, pushing Wade into some spine-tingling brushes with
death.
I, on the other hand, felt only half-functional without my Esprit. But I had
to try something. I ran toward Emily, who was still straddling Jacob. She put
her hand out and launched fireballs at me. I dodged them all like an athlete,
suddenly aware of how much Nomura’s Esprit-less training had actually
helped me.
She tried to hold on to Jacob and stop him from getting away through
another wormhole. Unfettered by her attacks, I used my Telekinesis to grab
her by the throat, then tackled her. We quickly became a mass of two bodies,
squirming and wrestling each other, and I delivered punches wherever I
could.
She wasn’t easy to take down, though. I’d seen what she and her brother
were capable of, back by the bus stop. But it wasn’t just my life hanging in
the balance anymore. I pummeled her in the ribs, then slapped the ground
around us, prompting it to shiver and crack. The earth opened up and began
to swallow her.
“Ex Parte Titan!” Emily chanted, and rammed her fist into my chest.
The blow was so hard, it threw me backward. The air left my lungs as I
landed on the soft ground, ten yards away from her. My limbs were made of
jelly, but my consciousness refused to let go. I had too many people to save,
including myself.
“There’s… no way… in hell… I’m letting Katherine freakin’ Shipton
take me down,” I groaned, rolling on one side in an attempt to catch my
breath. My whole torso was throbbing, and it felt like Emily had finally
broken something in me.
She stalked toward me. I caught a glimpse of Wade delivering a
devastating blaze to Emmett, who ducked and whispered a curse. Whatever it
was, it had an immediate effect on Wade, gripping him like paralysis and
forcing him down on one knee.
My pulse was racing as I suddenly found myself in a vulnerable position.
Not just about to get killed by Emily Ryder, but also about to watch the
single most important man in my life get destroyed… I couldn’t envision
such an ending. My brain did not compute.
So, as Emily towered over me and took another knife out, grinning with
the anticipation of slitting my throat, like she’d done to the Cranstons and the
Devereauxes, I took a deep breath. It hurt like a thousand knives being driven
through me all at once, but I had to do this. I instantly relaxed, and I put my
arms out, my fingertips tingling. The winds were coming. They’d answered
my call.
It had been impossible to maneuver my Air ability without an Esprit. The
few times I’d succeeded, I was holding on for dear life. This was my Hail
Mary, it seemed.
“Time to go bye-bye, Merlin bitch!” she said, baring her teeth at me like
an animal. Emily raised the knife in the air, then came down fast and hard.
Just before the tip of the blade reached my chest, a powerful gust of air
knocked her to the side. The impact was so powerful that I heard her bones
break, just before she was thrown on the ground and rolled to a stop. Lying
on her belly, Emily Ryder’s left leg and arm were bent at unnatural angles.
She screamed in agony.
It wasn’t over yet. I rushed to her side and tore a piece of my shirt off,
which I stuffed in her mouth. I was in a lot of pain, barely able to even sit up
straight, but I’d managed to take one of the psycho-bundle twins down.
“Can’t have you casting curses and crap,” I grumbled, then produced my
own set of Atomic Cuffs from my back pocket. “This is going to hurt, and I
am so not sorry about that.”
I pulled her broken arm down. The bone cracked. She howled until she
passed out, while I put the cuffs on, relishing the sight of the bright energy
string surrounding her wrists.
“Yeah, I don’t know any anesthesia spells or whatever,” I added, my tone
flat and anything but sympathetic. I knew she couldn’t hear me anymore, but
it felt good to say this stuff out loud. “You’ll just have to suffer. Hopefully
forever.”
I then looked up. Wade had finally taken down Emmett, who was lying in
the grass, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His face was pretty
roughed up, his eyes swollen and quickly turning purple—and Wade didn’t
look much better, but at least he had control. Wade was on top of him,
fumbling through his pockets for a pair of Atomic Cuffs.
Jacob had managed to get back up in a sitting position. He let out a tired
groan and glanced around, before breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of
Emily on the ground. He then looked to his side, where Wade and Emmett
were.
Dread punched a hole through my very soul, quickly followed by Jacob’s
scream.
“Watch out!”
I followed his horrified gaze and saw Emmett’s lips moving, just as Wade
put the first cuff on. An invisible pulse pushed Wade back. Emmett managed
to get up, something glimmering in his hand. A blade.
Oh, no.
“Wade!” I cried out, snapping my hand out.
I shot a Telekinetic pulse, but I was a split second too late. Emmett threw
the knife into Wade’s back, just as my pulse smacked him right in the head.
“WADE!” I screamed, struggling to get back up.
 But my knees were weak. I couldn’t stand for long. I dropped back down,
limp.
Wade stilled, the knife in his back. He stared at me for a couple of
seconds. A look of shock was imprinted on his face, breaking my heart into
tiny, painful little shards that slashed everything through me.
“Wade!” I gasped, tears glazing my eyes.
Emmett stood up, snarling and cursing, and tried to finish the job.
“No! You’ve done enough!” Jacob shouted and put his hands out. He
roared from the strain he put on himself as he opened up a wormhole right in
the middle of Emmett’s stomach.
I froze, unable to look away.
The wormhole’s edges glowed bright red, but inside there was nothing
but darkness. Emmett was stunned, his eyes bulging. The small portal then
vanished, leaving behind a gaping hole, a few inches in diameter. I could see
the rest of Waterfront Park through it. Emmett collapsed, the life dimming
from his perplexed face. He gave his last breath in the grass.
Jacob sobbed, lowering his head. He brought a trembling hand up, then
pulled a small medallion from beneath his shirt and bit into it. His grief and
guilt were almost too much to handle.
“Jake, don’t move. Stay there,” I said, my voice weak and shaky.
I managed to get up again, this time a little more confident about my legs,
and staggered over to Wade. I fell to my knees and helped him turn onto one
side. He groaned from the pain.
“Wade,” I croaked. “Hold on, okay? We’re going to get you patched up.”
“Ugh. I doubt it. But thanks for trying…” he replied, panting.
I took my jacket off and bundled it against his wound, making sure the
knife stayed in. Even so, blood was pouring out at an alarming speed. I
applied additional pressure, making him gasp. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
“What the hell are you sorry for?” Wade shot back, turning his head to
look at me. He looked worryingly pale already.
“I-I haven’t learned any healing spells,” I said, my lower lip trembling.
“I’m pretty sure you and the kid just saved my life,” he replied, struggling
to keep his breathing measured and failing miserably. “If I were you, I’d take
that as a win.”
“We’ll get you the help you need, I promise,” I said, caressing the side of
his face. Golden warmth filled me as our eyes met.
 A moment went by in silence.
“I doubt he hit any vital organs; otherwise, I’d be dead already. You
should really brush up on your anatomy knowledge, Merlin,” he retorted, his
tone clipped.
I breathed a sigh of relief, internally thrilled to see him still alive, kicking
and just as obnoxious as before. I had a feeling that he was the kind of guy
who’d go out flipping everybody off as he gave his last breath. Judging by
the fire burning in the pit of my stomach, Wade Crowley had no intention of
letting go just yet.
“Bleeding out, yet still an arrogant jerk. Impressive,” I muttered. “I left
the knife in, so I do know something.”
He chuckled, then grimaced from the pain. “Your sassiness might’ve
rubbed off on me.”
I laughed despite the tears rolling down my cheeks. “Glad to see I’m an
influence, at least.”
The air rippled in front of us. A wormhole opened, tall and vertical, its
edges glowing green. My eyes immediately snapped to Jacob.
“Is this you?” I asked him.
The boy shook his head, but he didn’t seem surprised. He knew who this
was.
And so did I.
Isadora Merlin stepped through the portal, her eyes wide as she drank the
whole scene in. She gave Wade and me a quick nod, then rushed over to
Jacob and helped him up.
“You bit into the charm,” she said to him. “I couldn’t find you before.
The alarms went off, but I couldn’t go inside the house. I saw the runes on
the walls. I knew they’d rigged the place to explode. And I didn’t want to risk
teleporting myself in there, either. I knew the Ryders might be waiting for
me, prepared to trap me. Two captured Portal Openers would’ve been worse
for everyone.”
“I didn’t get a chance to call you before we got here,” Jacob replied. “The
Ryders. They were holding the Smiths hostage, waiting for Harley.”
“Oh no, honey, I’m so sorry,” Isadora murmured. “I tried to find another
way in, but, in the meantime, the house was surrounded by security
magicals.”
“You’re Isadora Merlin,” Wade said, staring at her.
 “And you’re wounded,” she replied, coming back to us. “This will stop
you from bleeding out, until they get you to the infirmary.”
Isadora took a small coin from her pocket; it was encrusted with a variety
of symbols on both sides. She pressed it against her lips, whispered a spell
into it, and put it in Wade’s hand.
“Hold it tight,” she added.
He did as asked, closing his fist around it. He then stiffened, looking like
a living statue.
“Wade? Wade, are you okay? Wade!” I gasped, suddenly alarmed and
terrified of losing him. I had no idea what that coin did, and I had never seen
someone paralyzed like this before.
“It’s a Time Stopper,” Isadora explained. “It’ll keep the bleeding in limbo
until you take the coin out of his hand. It’s the only way he’ll survive this.”
“He said he didn’t think any vital organs were hit,” I murmured, looking
down at him.
“Yes, well, I’ve seen enough people get stabbed to know that his pallor is
indicative of massive hemorrhaging,” Isadora replied, then looked at Jacob.
“Are you okay?”
Jacob shook his head slowly. “I had to… I had no other choice.”
Isadora frowned at me, confused. “What’s he talking about? He’s clearly
in shock.”
I pointed at Emmett’s lifeless body. Isadora glanced over her shoulder,
noticing him and the gaping hole in his stomach.
“I had to,” Jacob repeated, his voice barely audible.
Isadora got up and gripped his shoulders firmly. “Jake. It’s okay. You’re
safe now. It’s over, honey.”
“It’s not over,” Jacob replied. He fumbled through his pants pockets and
handed me two small leather satchels. I didn’t recognize the symbols painted
on them, but I already knew what they were. “They had me hold on to them,”
he went on. “I’m sorry, Harley… I really am…”
“Oh God!” I breathed, forgetting all about Jacob’s guilt. “We need to get
back to the house!”
Isadora sighed. “Death of a Thousand Cuts,” she replied, recognizing the
hex bags in my hand. “The Ryders’ doing?”
“Yes! Please, take us back. Now!”
I was terrified that we were already too late. Garrett had said Mrs. Smith
had only had a few minutes as it was. How long have we been out here?
Thank God Isadora got a move on. She put her hand out and opened
another wormhole to our right.
“Take Wade with you,” she ordered. “I’ll send word for the coven’s
security magicals to come pick the Ryders up. I’ll take Jacob away.”
“Oh, wait. But—”
“You know he’s not safe in the coven yet,” she cut me off. “He’ll be with
me. A Portal Opener and a Magical Detector like him will pit magicals
against each other. Katherine won’t stop until she gets him. I’ve eluded her
for all these years, Harley. Jacob’s better off with me. I wanted him to be able
to have a normal life, but his abilities are too rare and too precious for him to
stay out in the open.”
I exhaled, not having the time to argue. “Okay. And when will I see you
again?” I asked. “You can’t go disappearing on me again. And Alton
Waterhouse really wants to talk to you!”
“Soon. I promise. And don’t worry about Alton. I’ll deal with him when
the time is right,” she replied, then she and Jacob helped me up.
They lifted Wade off the ground as well. I put my arms around him,
holding him tight as Isadora used her Telekinesis to pick us both up and toss
us through the wormhole. I wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth, or if I was
ever going to see her again. My instinct told me yes, but the pragmatic side of
me wasn’t yet convinced. But she did have a point. Jacob was safer with her
for now.
In the meantime, however, I still had a life to save.
I landed on my back with a thud, back in the Smiths’ living room. Wade
was on top of me, horribly heavy and still.
“What the—” Garrett blurted when he saw us.
“Time Stopper. He’s got a Time Stopper on him. Get him off me!” I cried
out.
Garrett and Tatyana immediately came by my side and pushed Wade off,
and I jerked to my feet. Santana’s Orishas were shooting across the ceiling,
sparkling green as they seemed to notice me—and cuts were working their
way up Mrs. Smith’s torso, her shirt now also drenched in blood. Her
complete silence made me fear the worst had already happened.
My heart in my throat, I tossed the hex bags in the air.
The Orishas darted toward them all at once. The impact caused a small
explosion as the contents of the small satchels were obliterated.
 FORTY-ONE

Tatyana

t took me a while to figure out how this all ended.

I After Harley finally halted the Death by a Thousand Cuts, Garrett ran
into the bathroom and came back with a couple of wet towels, which he used
to tend to Mrs. Smith’s cuts. She was out cold, as was her husband. But she
was still alive, much to Harley’s relief.
“Why didn’t this place blow up?” I asked, slightly hazy due to the sudden
turns and twists of what could’ve been our demise. “The runes. They were
rigged to set this place alight,” I added, looking at Harley. “How did you get
back here without setting them off?”
Harley sighed, the corner of her mouth twisting. “Emily said this house
would blow up if anyone set foot through the door. Pretty sure we came in
through a wormhole.”
“Wormhole trumps door. Nice loophole!” Santana said, then put her
hands out, her twelve Orishas buzzing around her, brimming with energy.
“Come on, ladies, you know what to do! Let’s take those runes down!”
The Orishas spread out through the walls of the house. A minute later,
twenty security magicals spilled in, their Esprits glowing as they joined us on
the scene.
Harley was lying on her side next to a frozen Wade. Astrid came in,
joining Dylan as they both kneeled before Harley and Wade.
“I heard most of what happened through my earpiece,” Astrid said,
pointing at her Bluetooth device. “Had we not left the channel on, I wouldn’t
have known to stop the security magicals from going in.”
“Yeah, the Ryders rigged the place up real nice,” Garrett replied.
Two nurses entered to check on the wounded. They had Wade lifted by
security magicals and carried outside, where the coven ambulance was
waiting.
“Is he going to be okay?” Harley asked anxiously.
“He’s on a Time Stopper. It pretty much saved his life,” one of the nurses
replied. “Doctor Krieger will look after him, don’t worry.”
“What about them?” Harley sighed, looking at Mr. and Mrs. Smith.
The nurse checked them both carefully, frowning as she assessed Mrs.
Smith’s cuts. “She’ll live,” she said. “The husband is just knocked out.”
Harley nodded slowly. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure. What do you need? You don’t look so well yourself,” the nurse
murmured.
“I’ll be fine. Can you just… Can you just wipe their memories clean of
everything that happened from before they decided to foster Jacob? That’s
about three or four weeks.” Harley exhaled again, cringing from the pain.
I almost felt it too, in the pit of my stomach. I could only imagine what
she was going through. She would never have wanted such a solution to be
applied to the Smiths, since it went against her general viewpoints of mind
control. But this was a tough call, and she had made it.
“We’ll do that. We’ll do a whole cleanup operation here,” Garrett said to
her. “Don’t worry about it. It’ll look like a botched home invasion. We’ll
have the Smiths unconscious and call the cops as soon as we get rid of every
trace of magic in this place, including ourselves.”
“Harley, what happened? Where’d you go? Where are the Ryders?
Jacob?” I asked her.
She took a few moments to respond. She described the entire series of
events that led to her return through a wormhole, along with a paralyzed
Wade. Jacob Morales was in the wind, as was Isadora Merlin—but to be
honest, I was okay with that. They both seemed too valuable to be held down
by any coven, and with Katherine Shipton still out there, I had a feeling they
were better off hiding somewhere, as far away from us and Harley as
possible.
Emmett Ryder was dead. His sister, Emily, was immobilized and
disabled, somewhere in Waterfront Park.
Astrid checked her tablet for recent communications.
“There’s a team headed out there as we speak. The time-lapse bubble is
still on,” she said.
One of the nurses came back to look at Harley’s wounds. She’d broken a
couple of ribs, and she was covered in cuts and bruises. The Ryders were
extremely vicious magicals, but, even without her Esprit, Harley had
managed to pull through.
I had a feeling that the Dempsey Suppressor she had inside her wasn’t
doing its job as well as it should’ve. It took an impressive amount of Chaos
mojo for a magical to survive and even neutralize a hostile as powerful as
Emily Ryder.
“The Ryders were one step ahead of us this whole time,” Garrett
concluded as he picked Harley’s Esprit up from the floor and gave it back to
her.
She gave him a weak and thankful smile, then put the ring-bracelet back
on, its gemstones glistening in different colors as contact was reestablished
with Harley’s Chaos. There were still a lot of unanswered questions, but one
thing was clear to me: there was a vast conspiracy at work here, and it didn’t
involve just the Ryders and Finch. Katherine had loyalists implanted
throughout the magical world, and she was planning something of
devastating proportions.
The magical kids on our list were still missing, including Micah Cranston.
She probably had them. I wondered if we’d at all hindered her plans by
taking out the Ryders and making sure she didn’t get her claws on Jacob.
It dawned on me then that I had a duty to help see this through. At all
costs.
That included talking to my parents about Katherine Shipton and the
Merlins. They weren’t just the joint directors of the Moscow Coven. They
were part of the same generation as Harley’s parents, and they had to know a
lot more about what had gone down almost twenty years ago, to set Katherine
Shipton on such a destructive path.
Knowing what we knew now, including details about the Icelandic mind
control curse, I had to try to get as much information from my parents as
possible. We weren’t on the best terms, but my options were few to none
otherwise.
 Looking at Dylan, I found a sliver of inner strength and determination
that I’d been missing. I needed it, because my parents really weren’t the
easiest people to talk to. Personally, I dreaded the idea of reaching out to
them.
But with the Rag Team by my side, I felt as though there was nothing that
could stand in our way. Not even my cold and extremely complicated family.
 FORTY-TWO

Harley

he next couple of days passed in the blink of an eye. I slept through most
T of my recovery process. Krieger used a combination of Wiccan spells and
good ol’ medical science to help my ribs fuse and heal faster than the usual
three to four weeks of gruesome pain.
The time I was awake, however, I spent mulling over everything that had
happened.
Astrid texted me frequently, as the entire team was insanely busy with the
cleanup and investigation surrounding the Ryder twins. I knew that Emily
was in Purgatory, and that Emmett had been buried—with no ceremony
whatsoever.
Jacob and Isadora were also gone. Still, I did get an email from Jacob
once a day. Just the general stuff, though, nothing too specific. Lunch in
Columbia. Souvenir shopping in Nigeria. Bird watching in Minnesota. That
kind of stuff. He had, of course, made sure to send it to my personal email
address, to avoid coven monitoring.
I got out of bed on the third day, wondering if Wade was feeling any
better. I hadn’t seen him since he’d gripped the Time Stopper and turned into
a living statue. I knew he’d survived the knife wound, but I was longing to
see him again. Life just wasn’t the same without him.
The Smiths were recovering from a botched “home invasion,” and Ryann
was back with them for a while. They were pretty shaken up, after all, and
Mrs. Smith had sustained grave injuries. I told Ryann I was out of town with
urgent work, but that I was going to see them soon. I was just working up the
courage to look them in the eyes, smile, and tell them that everything was
going to be okay—while knowing that their memories had been wiped. That
they’d had a wonderful young man in their care for a while. That there were
dark forces at work, looking to destroy everything that was good and
innocent in my life.
I made my way through the coven’s ample hallways, my gaze wandering
from one dragon statue to another. So fearsome and ferocious… yet just
beautifully crafted slabs of stone. They were supposed to inspire a strong and
secure coven. But they were nothing but an embellishment. We had traitors in
our midst, and they’d played an essential part in what had happened to the
magical kids we’d lost.
I was never going to forgive that.
Alton was waiting for me in his office. But he wasn’t alone. Wade was
sitting in one of the armchairs, sullen and grumpy. Imogene Whitehall of the
California Mage Council was standing by the edge of Alton’s desk. Astrid,
Santana, Tatyana, Dylan, and Garrett were also present.
“Ah, look who made it back into the world!” Alton exclaimed, beaming
at me.
I could feel his affection flowing through me and warming me up like a
log fire in the middle of a snowy winter. I gave him a soft nod, then looked at
Wade. He was guarded, but still, I knew he was happy to see me. A wave of
relief crashed into me, and I understood that everyone present wanted me
alive and well… and with them.
Technically speaking, there were two people in the room whose emotions
I couldn’t feel—Garrett and Imogene, both Shapeshifters, I assumed. It was
my clearest takeaway from this entire struggle, especially after my dinner
with Wade and Garrett. The only ones whose emotions I couldn’t feel seemed
to be Shapeshifters. But their expressions told me everything I needed to
know. I was quite the sight for sore eyes, and that made me feel good.
“How are you feeling, Harley?” Imogene asked softly.
Santana, Tatyana, and Astrid greeted me with loving hugs. I was still sore
from my bruised ribcage, but the fractures had fully healed. I felt as though
I’d been run over by a truck, but, by this point, it wasn’t my first, nor was it
going to be my last, round of injuries. Something else was coming. My
instincts were flaring.
Not now. Maybe not tomorrow either. But, at some point in the future, I
was going to hear from Katherine Shipton and her minions again. She’d yet
to take me down, and I was positive that she was determined to strike over
and over until she either got what she wanted or went down in flames. I was
rooting for the latter.
“Good to see you, crazy girl,” Santana said. “Never seen anyone jump
through a wormhole with your confidence.”
“Well, you know me,” I said. “Brave and suicidal mean pretty much the
same thing in my mind.”
“It’s good to have you back,” Alton said, and motioned for me to take a
seat in the spare armchair.
I settled into it, exchanging quick glances with Wade. Liquid sunshine
poured through me, and I couldn’t help but smile as I shifted my focus back
to Alton and Imogene.
“I wanted you all to be here for this briefing,” Imogene said. “I’ve done
some digging through other covens, and I’ve come up with some troubling
facts. Unfortunately, our Katherine Shipton nightmare is nowhere near over.
I’m glad you all survived your encounter with the Ryder twins, but I’m afraid
it doesn’t end here.”
“Do we know how or when they started working with her, or where the
hell they’ve been this whole time?” Tatyana asked.
“We know that Katherine intercepted them as soon as the Albuquerque
Coven ordered them to be separated, but we have yet to find out exactly what
they’ve been doing, or who else is involved,” Imogene replied. “Isadora
Merlin and Jacob Morales are missing, but we do have magicals out there
looking for them. There’s an ongoing effort from multiple covens to track
down the missing kids, as well. The ones who willingly joined Katherine
have gone underground, but I’ve got some trusted sources in the deepest
layers of each American coven. The moment one of them makes a move, I’ll
know.”
My heart broke again as I thought of little Micah and the others like him.
They’d been forced out of their family homes and dragged into Katherine’s
darkness, forced to grow with her poison. My throat burned whenever I tried
to imagine what that could be like. Children were innocent. They didn’t
deserve this.
 I exhaled. “Do we know what it is she’s planning, exactly? I mean, Finch
said she was going to become a Child of Chaos, but how does one even do
that? Is there an instruction manual somewhere?”
Where did one so much as begin to ascend as a Child of Chaos? It
boggled my mind. Children of Chaos were elements of the very universe we
inhabited. Darkness, Light, Gaia—mother of the natural elements to which
we were connected—Water, Fire, Air, and Earth. Children of Chaos were
threads of raw and unlimited power, permeating time, space, and matter
itself. How did one even go around finding one?
The road there seemed impossible, if not simply fictional.
“There is certainly no manual,” Alton said, looking equally bemused.
“She’s going to keep trying to recruit magicals, though. We’ve been looking
into Finch’s statement, but we’ve yet to find something credible on the topic
of Children of Chaos. Whether she knows something more or she’s just plain
crazy, she clearly needs powerful magicals for something. At this point, our
only hope is that Krieger finishes the magical detector. Without Jacob’s
Sensate ability, we have no other choice,” he added, looking at me.
His doubt sent shivers down my spine. I braced for a rebuttal, since he
probably knew I hadn’t made much of an effort to stop Isadora from taking
Jacob away.
“We’ll have to up our game, going forward,” he continued, his gaze fixed
on my face. But he didn’t call me out on the Isadora/Jacob issue. Relief
washed over me, and I relaxed in my chair. “The Ryders had inside
information from this coven. It means that Isadora’s claim is true. We have
spies in here, and we must be careful. Which is why, going forward,
everything related to Katherine Shipton will be conveyed only to this team
here, along with a few other trusted witches and warlocks. Imogene will help
us oversee the entire operation and assist us with any resources we may
need.”
“Katherine definitely has her fingers in more than one pie here,” Imogene
replied. “She’s been leaving trails of bodies across the US for two decades
now, and it’s taken us a long time to connect her to a number of unfortunate
incidents. However, with what you gathered from the Ryders’ storage unit,
we have a better clue as to how they did what they did, and how we can
prevent such a tragedy from happening again. We’ve got APBs out on
everyone who’s missing. It’s only a matter of time before we find them.”
 Wade cleared his throat, gazing at Imogene. My heart fluttered, and I
knew that was all him. He was still crushing on her! Ugh. My eyes rolled,
and I pinched the bridge of my nose in an attempt to keep my focus.
“We need to start drilling into Finch and Emily now,” he said. “They’re
viable leads, and I imagine we can work them over hard enough until we get
them to talk.”
“Good idea,” Imogene replied, her lips stretching into a charming smile.
No wonder Wade was smitten. Heck, even Dylan and Raffe were swooning
over her. Alton, not so much, but then again, Alton was happily married.
“However, Emily is quite useless at this point in time. When she isn’t
sedated, she’s crying and screaming after her brother. She didn’t take his
death well.”
“Boo-hoo, cry me a river,” I grumbled. “I’d like to talk to Finch, if that’s
okay with you, Alton. It’s time he and I had a chat, anyway.”
Alton nodded. “Agreed. But I want you to have Wade with you when you
do that,” he said. “Just in case he gets out of line. We’ve tried to have Adley
talk to Finch, but he refuses to see her. Perhaps he’ll be more open to talking
to you. We won’t know until we try.”
“Then it’s settled,” I replied, giving Wade a sideways glance. “Ready to
get back in the game?”
“I was never out to begin with,” he answered, one corner of his mouth
curving upward.
“Of course. Nearly bleeding to death was simply the equivalent of five
o’clock tea in the magical world, huh?” I said, raising an eyebrow.
Alton laughed. “Good to see you both got your spirits back.”
We kind of had. We’d lost people along the way, and we’d nearly gotten
ourselves killed, too, but it felt like we still had a lot of work to do. There was
still so much that we didn’t know, including about my parents. I had
questions that needed answering, and that alone was enough to help me
power through the grief and hopelessness I’d felt earlier, and to focus on
what came next.
Sure, Katherine Shipton had it in for me, and I needed to watch my back,
but this was no longer just about me. All our lives were at stake. And I was
damned if I was going to let her ruin anyone else’s future in this world.
As we moved to leave Alton’s office, he motioned for me to stay. Once
Imogene and my teammates were out, and the door closed behind them,
Alton handed me a small manila file.
“I think it’s time for you to start thinking more seriously about the coven
and its role in your life, Harley,” Alton said, his voice low.
I opened the file and noticed different forms to fill out, each branded with
the San Diego Coven’s sigil, and his signature at the bottom. “What’s all
this?” I asked.
“Your choices, Harley. You join the coven, or you register as a Neutral,”
he replied. “You knew this was coming. Your probation month is over, after
all. Frankly, I’d be honored if we could have you here as a member,
especially after everything that happened, but I also intend to keep my
promise and respect your decision, whatever it may be. Just know that you
have a family here. Take as long as you need before you give me an answer.
You’ve earned it. Mind you, by ‘as long as you need,’ I don’t mean another
month. We don’t have that kind of time, given Katherine’s endeavors.”
I breathed out, then gave him a brief nod and left the room.
Truth be told, I’d already made my decision. I just needed to tell someone
else first. The person who’d brought me here to begin with.
I figured he deserved that courtesy.
 FORTY-THREE

Harley

eady?” Wade asked me, as we both stood before the six big mirrors in
“R the Assembly Hall.
Aside from extremely rare Portal Openers like Isadora and Jacob, they
were the only other magical way for us to get from one place to another
without using the basic modes of transportation. Of course, every single
travel through the mirror was preapproved and recorded.
In our case, our destination was quite special.
“For what? Purgatory? I doubt anyone is ever ready for Purgatory,” I
replied.
He moved to stand next to me and took a deep breath as he stared at the
mirror in the middle for a while.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said suddenly. “You know that, right?”
“Are you sucking up to me so I say yes to joining the coven?” I asked.
He looked at me, and I felt my heart perform athletic somersaults in my
chest. I feared it could break my ribs again, all on its own. “No. I’m just glad
you’re living, breathing, and willing to fight another day, Harley.”
My cheeks were on fire as I gave him a sheepish smile. “I know. I was
kidding.”
“I wasn’t,” he replied, then shifted his focus back to the mirror. “Volat in
Purgatoris.”
The reflective glass surface began to ripple. I nodded once and braced
myself as I walked right into it. The mirror felt liquid and cold against my
skin. I set foot into a different place altogether. Mirror travel was less
shocking to my senses than slipping through a wormhole.
When Wade caught up with me, we found ourselves in the reception hall
of Purgatory, the prison for our magical world’s most dangerous and
hardened criminals.
It was huge, stretching out in multiple corridors, with cell doors lining
both sides of each passageway on multiple levels, interconnected by stairs
and suspended ramps. The reception hall’s ceiling was made entirely out of
glass, giving us a clear view of Purgatory’s cell rows. It was all stark and
gray, with black metal and stainless steel bars and architectural details. It was
a Brutalist’s dream, a recipe for emptiness and depression.
It reminded me of a supermax-type of prison. Only, it was eerily quiet.
One of the security magicals stationed in the hall walked over to greet us.
I checked his nametag, noticing his black Kevlar uniform. The guy was
dressed for war, equipped with electro-shock batons and his Esprit—a gold
pinky ring.
“I’m Officer Mallenberg. Welcome,” he said, his tone flat.
“We’re here to see Finch Shipton,” Wade replied.
“Follow me,” Mallenberg said. He turned around and guided us out of the
reception hall and through one of the corridors.
White neon bulbs glowed overhead, casting a cold, impersonal light
against the cement-gray walls. Each cell door was framed in steel, with a
plethora of runes and sigils engraved all over it. Inside, I could see more
symbols carved directly into the cell walls. The prisoners had decent living
conditions, from what I could see, but they all wore a modified version of the
Atomic Cuffs, where the energy crackled around their wrists without holding
them together. They had freedom of movement, but they must have known
that the moment they tried to tamper with the cuffs, they’d suffer terribly.
There were all kind of magicals in here. Young witches, aging
warlocks… even juveniles. They stared at Wade and me as we walked past
their cells, but didn’t say a word. Their emotions pummeled me—
viciousness, simmering anger, resentment, frustration, resignation, sadness,
and, in some cases, curiosity.
I focused on Wade’s feelings, slightly overwhelmed by the prisoners.
This didn’t feel like the other crowds I’d learned to deal with, back at the
coven. There was something in the air, something about Purgatory that
weighed heavily on me. There was so much despair and agony in this place,
it was impossible for me to completely block it all out.
Toward the end of the corridor, Purgatory began to feel and look
different. There were fewer cells on each side. There weren’t any black bars,
but solid steel doors with small hatches to open and look through.
“This is the solitary confinement area. Our most dangerous residents are
here,” Mallenberg said.
We stopped in front of the very last cell, its number spray-painted at the
top. Number 230. Mallenberg banged on the metal door.
“Hey, Shipton! You’ve got a visitor!” Mallenberg shouted.
Wade and I waited for half a minute before we heard Finch reply from
inside. “I smell a redhead…”
Mallenberg scoffed, then unlocked the latch with a special key and
opened it, giving me a clear view of Finch inside his cell. Nothing had
changed about him, with the exception of his yellow prison jumpsuit. His
sky-blue eyes were still vivid and burning with chilling hatred. His platinum
hair was short, clipped down to a buzzcut. His grin gave me goosebumps.
“Hey, Finch,” I said.
Wade kept to the side, staring at the wall behind me. He was quiet and
calm, but, inside, a storm was raging. I moved my Empathy focus on Finch—
it was empty. Blank. Almost close to soothing for me, like white noise.
Finch rose from his bed and turned so he could face me, leaning his back
against the wall. Every square inch of his cell was covered in runes and
symbols to stop him from breaking out. Security magicals patrolled the
corridors once every ten minutes, as well. There were enough prevention
methods at work here that one would’ve had to be downright stupid or
suicidal to try to escape.
“The stench was familiar,” Finch replied.
“You knew I was coming. You were notified in advance. Don’t try to
make yourself appear psychic. It’s not a good look on you,” I said. “How’ve
you been?”
Finch chuckled. “Peachy, Sis. You?”
“Had a run-in with the Ryder twins.”
Oh, that got me his full attention, curiosity glimmering in his eyes.
“I take it they’re trouble? I told you, Sis, there’s no stopping my mom,”
he sneered.
“Were trouble,” I replied dryly.
He stilled, frowning. “Beg your pardon?”
“Were. No longer an issue. Emmett is dead. Emily got herself a private
suite here in Purgatory. I doubt you’ll meet her at lunchtime, though,” I said.
“She’s going to spend the rest of her life in isolation. Or she might get
executed—though I seem to recall reading somewhere that executions are
rarer these days than they used to be, am I right?” Before he could respond, I
continued firmly. “Either way, until we find Katherine, she’s a potential
asset. If she decides to be helpful, she might get a life sentence.”
Finch exhaled, a vein angrily pumping in his temple. “They should’ve
torn you to shreds. You’re a flea compared to what the Ryders can do.”
“I suppose you knew them and all about what they were planning to do,
long before you had your ass dropped in here, huh?” I asked, offering a smirk
to go with it. He didn’t say anything, but that, to me, meant yes. It didn’t take
a genius psychologist to figure Finch out. So I decided to drill, poke, and
prod until I got him to open up some more. “I understand you’ve had no
visits or calls whatsoever for the past month,” I continued. “You refused to
see Adley, the only person who actually cares about you. She told me to tell
you that she still loves you, for some reason.”
His eyes found mine, and I could’ve sworn I spotted a flicker of regret
where Adley was concerned.
“Anyway, I just wanted to give you some updates about what’s going on
in the world of the free,” I said. “No matter how much scheming and
planning you do, Finch, I will still come out victorious. I never drank the
poison of Katherine Shipton, who, by the way, clearly doesn’t give a damn
about you. I thought she would’ve at least tried to send you a message or
something. But no. You’re all alone in this cold, dark dump.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Finch replied. “And you’re
certainly not the right person to tell me about what my mother thinks or feels
about me. Last time I checked, your daddy was still chasing her, after he
murdered your mother,” he added with a cold grin.
His skin began to ripple. I heard bones crack. Finch was shifting, but I
couldn’t figure out into whom or why, until the transformation was complete,
and he straightened his back.
“You son of a…” My voice trailed off.
 My heart broke in an instant, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to give Finch
a win. Not today, not after everything I’d been through. Finch had just shifted
into my father—just to mess with me. I recognized the rich, black hair… His
eyes were like mine and, ironically, still Finch’s, too. He looked different
from the memories and photos I had of him. He was still wearing the yellow
prison jumpsuit, which automatically reminded me of his time in jail, prior to
his execution.
“Anything you want to say to the old man?” Finch asked, his voice
deeper and smoother, further tearing me apart on the inside. It was Hiram
Merlin’s voice. It was Hiram Merlin’s body he was wearing. But he wasn’t
Hiram Merlin. He didn’t need to obtain my father’s DNA to copy him. It was
already present in the blood running through his veins. That and a picture
seemed to have been enough. He was trying to rile me up, and I found it
extremely difficult to keep it together.
“Yeah, actually,” I replied, keeping my cool. “I know about Sál Vinna,
the Icelandic love curse. Someone close to my father actually told me about
it, so we did some research. Turns out it’s a powerful spell. Are you familiar
with it, Finch? Do you know what it does?”
Hiram-Finch narrowed his eyes at me. “What’s your point?”
“I’m positive that it was used on my father, just like it was used on
Oberon Marx, and who knows how many other people. It’s extremely
perverted mind control, the kind you don’t even realize you’re under until it’s
too late. Until you do something terrible, like killing your wife, the love of
your life, the mother of your child. All because Katherine Shipton didn’t like
your rejection,” I replied, suddenly addressing him as Hiram. It felt
therapeutic somehow, as if I was, in fact, talking to my father. “You see, I
know the truth, Dad. I know it wasn’t really you who did those terrible
things, and I will prove it. I will clear your name and let everyone know that
you were never a killer. That you were just another victim of Katherine
Shipton. I promise you.”
A minute passed in heavy silence, until Hiram-Finch finally burst into a
mocking cackle.
“You think you’re clever, but you’re actually delusional,” he said. “You
really think our dad was that kind of a saint? Hah!”
“Have you ever met him?” I asked.
He shook his head. “He didn’t even know I was alive.”
 “So then why the hate toward him?” I replied, smiling. “Every memory I
have of him shows me a man with a good heart and a soft smile, who loved
his child more than anything in the world. Had he known about you, Finch,
he would’ve taken you into his home. He would’ve been your father. He
would’ve loved you like he loved me. You never gave him a chance because
it was easier to believe Katherine’s lies. I get that. But don’t expect me to be
as gullible and as easy to manipulate as you.”
That was the boiling point for Finch. He shifted back to his original form
and lunged at the door, roaring and cursing and punching and kicking as hard
as he could. Mallenberg sighed, then closed and locked the latch on his door.
Finch’s rage echoed through Purgatory. On one hand, I felt sad for him.
However, I also knew full well that his circumstances were simply the result
of his poor choices.
But I believed every word I’d just said. I was positive that, had my father
known about Finch, he wouldn’t have stood by. He would never have
allowed Katherine to poison his mind like that.
“It’s been a while since he’s had a fit of rage,” Mallenberg said, while
Finch continued to snarl and bang his fists against the door. “The prison
physician gives him some powerful antipsychotics. You managed to get the
beast out again, it seems.”
“He deserved some hard, cold truths. Medication can’t protect him from
that,” I answered, then raised my voice for Finch to hear me. “I’ll see you
again, soon, Big Brother! Like it or not, I’m the only family you’ve got left.”
“Go to hell, Merlin!” Finch punched the door again.
“It will be a while until you figure this part out, Finch,” I replied. “But
Katherine won’t give a crap about you unless you’re useful. Right now,
you’re anything but. Your best chance at any kind of redemption and
recovery is if you help me take her and her associates down, before she
destroys any more lives.”
“You’re going to die, Harley! You’re going to suffer and die!” Finch
barked.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
I rolled my eyes and gave Mallenberg a polite nod. He escorted us back
toward the reception hall. Wade walked by my side, still silent and curious,
while Finch’s bellows rippled behind us, fading as we drew farther away
from him.
 “Do you think you’ll make him talk?” Wade finally asked once we were
back in front of the reception hall’s mirror.
“Eventually,” I said. “He didn’t know about the Icelandic curse; I could
tell from his reaction. He didn’t think Katherine would use such magic on her
lover, his father… my father. Soon enough, he’ll start wondering what else
she hasn’t told him. Who else she’s used the curse on. It’s only a matter of
time. I’ll keep working on him until it happens.”
Wade nodded slowly, hands behind his back. I stepped toward the
rippling mirror, then glanced over my shoulder to find him watching me.
“By the way, I’m in,” I said.
He blinked a couple times. “You’re in… what?”
“Is your brain glitching? I’m joining the San Diego Coven,” I replied, but
didn’t wait to see his reaction.
As I strode through the mirror and left him behind, I found myself
smiling, filled with sheer excitement and relief—all Wade’s. Actually, most
of it. Well, more like half. I, too, was glad to have made the decision.
He joined me back in the Assembly Hall and let out an audible sigh.
That was his response. To some, it would’ve been insufficient. To me, it
was more than enough. He wanted me here, and he didn’t have to say it out
loud. I could feel it in the very center of my soul.
I wanted to be in the San Diego Coven. I really did. It had become my
home, the center of my universe.
And it needed me, now more than ever.

Ready for the next part of Harley’s story?

Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading Book 2 of Harley’s journey. I hope you enjoyed it!
(If you did, I would be very grateful if you could write a review on
Amazon, even if it’s just a sentence or two. Every review makes a difference
to an author and helps other readers discover the book. :) )
As for Book 3: Harley Merlin and the Stolen Magicals, it’s available
now!
 Grab your copy and continue reading:
If you’re in the US, tap here.
UK, tap here.
Australia, tap here.
For any other country, tap here.

I can’t wait to continue Harley’s journey with you.

See you on the other side…
Love,
Bella x
P.S. Sign up to my VIP email list and I’ll send you a heads up when my
next book releases: www.morebellaforrest.com
(Your email will be kept 100% private and you can unsubscribe at any
time.)
P.P.S. I’d also love to hear from you — come say hi on Twitter or
Facebook or Instagram.
 Read more by Bella
Forrest

HARLEY MERLIN
Harley Merlin and the Secret Coven (Book 1)
Harley Merlin and the Mystery Twins (Book 2)
Harley Merlin and the Stolen Magicals (Book 3)

THE GENDER GAME

(Action-adventure/romance. Completed series.)
The Gender Game (Book 1)
The Gender Secret (Book 2)
The Gender Lie (Book 3)
The Gender War (Book 4)
The Gender Fall (Book 5)
The Gender Plan (Book 6)
The Gender End (Book 7)

THE GIRL WHO DARED TO THINK

(Action-adventure/romance. Completed series.)
The Girl Who Dared to Think (Book 1)
The Girl Who Dared to Stand (Book 2)
The Girl Who Dared to Descend (Book 3)
The Girl Who Dared to Rise (Book 4)
The Girl Who Dared to Lead (Book 5)
The Girl Who Dared to Endure (Book 6)
The Girl Who Dared to Fight (Book 7)

THE CHILD THIEF

(Action-adventure/romance.)
The Child Thief (Book 1)
Deep Shadows (Book 2)
Thin Lines (Book 3)
Little Lies (Book 4)
 Ghost Towns (Book 5)

HOTBLOODS
(Supernatural romance. Completed series.)
Hotbloods (Book 1)
Coldbloods (Book 2)
Renegades (Book 3)
Venturers (Book 4)
Traitors (Book 5)
Allies (Book 6)
Invaders (Book 7)
Stargazers (Book 8)

A SHADE OF VAMPIRE SERIES

(Supernatural romance)
Series 1: Derek & Sofia’s story
A Shade of Vampire (Book 1)
A Shade of Blood (Book 2)
A Castle of Sand (Book 3)
A Shadow of Light (Book 4)
A Blaze of Sun (Book 5)
A Gate of Night (Book 6)
A Break of Day (Book 7)
Series 2: Rose & Caleb’s story
A Shade of Novak (Book 8)
A Bond of Blood (Book 9)
A Spell of Time (Book 10)
A Chase of Prey (Book 11)
A Shade of Doubt (Book 12)
A Turn of Tides (Book 13)
A Dawn of Strength (Book 14)
A Fall of Secrets (Book 15)
An End of Night (Book 16)
Series 3: The Shade continues with a new hero…
A Wind of Change (Book 17)
 A Trail of Echoes (Book 18)
A Soldier of Shadows (Book 19)
A Hero of Realms (Book 20)
A Vial of Life (Book 21)
A Fork of Paths (Book 22)
A Flight of Souls (Book 23)
A Bridge of Stars (Book 24)
Series 4: A Clan of Novaks
A Clan of Novaks (Book 25)
A World of New (Book 26)
A Web of Lies (Book 27)
A Touch of Truth (Book 28)
An Hour of Need (Book 29)
A Game of Risk (Book 30)
A Twist of Fates (Book 31)
A Day of Glory (Book 32)
Series 5: A Dawn of Guardians
A Dawn of Guardians (Book 33)
A Sword of Chance (Book 34)
A Race of Trials (Book 35)
A King of Shadow (Book 36)
An Empire of Stones (Book 37)
A Power of Old (Book 38)
A Rip of Realms (Book 39)
A Throne of Fire (Book 40)
A Tide of War (Book 41)
Series 6: A Gift of Three
A Gift of Three (Book 42)
A House of Mysteries (Book 43)
A Tangle of Hearts (Book 44)
A Meet of Tribes (Book 45)
A Ride of Peril (Book 46)
A Passage of Threats (Book 47)
A Tip of Balance (Book 48)
 A Shield of Glass (Book 49)
A Clash of Storms (Book 50)
Series 7: A Call of Vampires
A Call of Vampires (Book 51)
A Valley of Darkness (Book 52)
A Hunt of Fiends (Book 53)
A Den of Tricks (Book 54)
A City of Lies (Book 55)
A League of Exiles (Book 56)
A Charge of Allies (Book 57)
A Snare of Vengeance (Book 58)
A Battle of Souls (Book 59)
Series 8: A Voyage of Founders
A Voyage of Founders (Book 60)
A Land of Perfects (Book 61)
A Citadel of Captives (Book 62)
A Jungle of Rogues (Book 63)
A Camp of Savages (Book 64)
A Plague of Deceit (Book 65)

A SHADE OF DRAGON TRILOGY

A Shade of Dragon 1
A Shade of Dragon 2
A Shade of Dragon 3

A SHADE OF KIEV TRILOGY

A Shade of Kiev 1
A Shade of Kiev 2
A Shade of Kiev 3

THE SECRET OF SPELLSHADOW MANOR

(Supernatural/Magic YA. Completed series)
The Secret of Spellshadow Manor (Book 1)
The Breaker (Book 2)
The Chain (Book 3)
The Keep (Book 4)
 The Test (Book 5)
The Spell (Book 6)

BEAUTIFUL MONSTER DUOLOGY

(Supernatural romance)
Beautiful Monster 1
Beautiful Monster 2

DETECTIVE ERIN BOND

(Adult thriller/mystery)
Lights, Camera, GONE
Write, Edit, KILL

For an updated list of Bella’s books, please visit her website: www.bellaforrest.net
Join Bella’s VIP email list and she’ll send you an email reminder as soon as her next book is out. Tap
here to sign up: www.morebellaforrest.com