Spellbound (Spellbringers Book 1) (18 page)

“Wait. What did you overhear?” I
asked.

“Right after the first night we had Rachel
over for dinner, my mom told my dad he should start training you.
He told her he didn’t think it was necessary. He said any Hunters
who came sniffing around would probably ignore you and go after
those with magic to steal. She got upset and told him he had to do
it. I’m trying to remember how she phrased it. Something like, ‘I
see far, Abe. She’s the only one who can pull my son out of
darkness, and I’m determined to do anything within my power to
protect her. How do you know she won’t need training in order to
save him?’ She must have had one of her visions about you—something
that made her think you would end up saving my life
again.”

Hope filled my heart. Jerica’s visions
obviously meant something. Everyone believed in her intuition and
scrambled to follow in any direction she might lead. Could this
mean Jace and I would eventually end up together? But if that were
true, why did she seem so unhappy the time she caught Jace holding
my wrist? And why would she so easily accept and embrace Rachel as
Jace’s girlfriend?

Stop it, Alisa
, I scolded myself. I could not afford to let myself go down
the slippery slope of fantasizing about Jace. For the sake of my
friendship with Jace and the Alexanders, and for the sake of my own
sanity, I had to let go. Just a month ago, I still needed to remind
myself several times a day that I was not allowed to love Jace or
be attracted to him. Since Christmas, I’d barely entertained any
romantic thoughts toward Jace at all. Maybe it was the conversation
with Rachel and my hope that we might become close friends. Or
maybe it was the sparring match with Bryce that allowed me to let
go of my anger. Whatever it was, I had finally cleared the biggest
hurdle in accepting that Jace would never be mine.

Jace’s house was empty when we arrived. “Mom
and Dad went to the store to shop for tonight. Bryce and Mikael
went to Albany to pick up a buddy from the bus station,” Jace
explained, rummaging in the refrigerator. He must have figured he
had a good half-hour of uninterrupted feeding time before Jerica
came home and kicked him out of the kitchen. He spent a great deal
of time either eating or trying to snatch food from under his mom’s
nose. Everyone needed a hobby, I supposed.

The house filled up quickly, and if Jerica
noticed a ton of food was missing from the refrigerator, she didn’t
mention it. After all the crap he ate, I was slightly disgusted by
the fact that Jace was able to eat not only the dinner that was
placed in front of him, but begged for seconds as well. Sure,
Jace’s six-foot tall, athletic frame would require a certain number
of calories, but where did all that food go? I wondered how much
money the Alexander family spent on feeding their youngest
son.

I looked around the crowded kitchen table,
speculating about the newest, temporary addition to the household.
Mordecai, silent and brooding, was the polar opposite of Mikael.
Golden hair, sky-blue eyes, fair skin, easy smile, friendly
personality: Mikael was like a magnet that drew light and energy.
Mordecai, however, was the opposite. His deep black dreadlocks hung
about his shoulders and his demeanor was cold. Mordecai’s ebony
skin seemed to swallow the light and his black eyes were cunning
and sharp. When he smiled, it made me shudder. There was something
malevolent in the baring of his teeth.

Jerica must have been aware of my covert
examination of her newest guest. She interpreted my reaction to
Mordecai correctly, I believed, because she nodded her head once
and looked toward him with suspicion. I noticed earlier in the
evening that Jerica did not insist on him calling her by her first
name. I wondered if this was significant because she’d asked me to
call her by her first name right away.

“Mordecai, where are you from?” she
asked.

“Nigeria. My parents are living in Miami, but
they shall be moving back to Africa in two months time. I believe
you know my mother’s people, Mr. Alexander.” He turned his
attention to Abe. “My mother is descended from the family of
Nkaribo.” Mordecai’s smile widened as Abe’s dimmed.

“Yes, I knew your uncle Jabron. How is he?”
Abe frowned and shot a worried look toward his wife.

“He is dead.” Mordecai delivered this answer
without any emotion whatsoever. Goose bumps peppered my arms. When
dinner was over, I felt weak with relief when the men left the
kitchen. Jerica and I looked at each other and words were
unnecessary. She didn’t like Mordecai any more than I
did.

***

The party was low-key, not much of a party at
all, which was fine with me. The boys congregated in the basement,
playing pool and listening to music. I tried to hang out with them
for a while, but felt too uncomfortable to stay. Mordecai’s
presence made me feel slightly ill. Despite Jace and Bryce’s
protests, I escaped upstairs. Abe and Jerica snuggled in the living
room and watched the New Year’s Eve Special on network television.
Scantily clad women huddled in the freezing cold, desperate to have
their faces splashed across the TV if only for a second.

I felt weird hanging out with Jerica and Abe.
They seemed very subdued. I didn’t want to be a nuisance, so I
mumbled something about getting some fresh air and stepped outside.
The stray cat Jace had adopted a few weeks ago was sitting in the
driveway, meowing piteously. I walked over to him and scooped him
up in my arms.

“It’s cold outside, kitty. What are you doing
out here?” I murmured and cooed in baby talk as I scratched
Whiskers’ snowy white chin. “Let’s go inside.” I made my way back
toward the house, and nearly had a stroke when a deep, heavily
accented voice came from out of nowhere.

“Poor human.” A tiny orange glow faded in and
out, briefly illuminating Mordecai’s dark form.

“You scared the life out of me,” I
exclaimed.

“If only it were that easy,” he chuckled.
“Bryce’s little brother will never choose you, and if the
Alexanders were honest, you would have known that. The male of our
species craves the magic of the female—power you do not possess. He
will never whisper the Claiming Words in your ear. Perhaps you
should run along and find someone of your own kind.” He threw his
cigarette on the ground, crushed the butt under his boot, and left
without another word.

What Mordecai said was true. I’d always known
it in my heart. Rachel and Jace were bound together by more than
love. Magic created a bond of its own. Even before Rachel came
along, I knew I wasn’t special. I’d never be more than who I was.
Maybe Mordecai was right. Maybe I should find others like myself:
boring, ordinary, non-magical humans.

There was nothing else to do but go back
inside. I sat stiffly at the edge of the loveseat and pretended to
enjoy the New Year’s Eve Special while stroking Whiskers’ soft fur
absentmindedly. Mordecai’s stinging words reverberated in my ears.
Maybe he was right. No one would ever claim me. I would be doomed
to spend eternity with only two-dozen cats to keep me company. My
destiny as the Crazy Cat Lady beckoned and I felt terribly sorry
for myself.

The guys made their way back upstairs right
before the countdown to midnight. Jace’s phone rang and he
disappeared to talk to Rachel in private. I wondered how soon I
could escape the Alexanders’ house and return to my own.

“10…9…8…” The announcer on TV was manic with
New Year’s Eve glee. Jerica and Abe rose from the sofa and
stretched.

“7…6…5…” At the rustling of a paper bag, I
glanced over to see the boys rooting around in the stash of illegal
fireworks they’d smuggled in from Alabama. Soon they would step
outside to blow things up. Typical men.

“4…3…2…” I wondered who would be driving me
home. I was ready to go.

“1…” Loud screams erupted on TV. Abe and
Jerica kissed softly, and Abe brushed a tear from his wife’s cheek.
I knew it was hard on them to ring in a new year without their
oldest son in it. They both went around the room, giving hugs,
wishing each person a Happy New Year, before finally saying
goodnight and retiring to bed.

Bryce, Mikael, and Mordecai went outside to
shoot off fireworks and I was left alone in the living room. I
curled up on the sofa, remote control in hand, and decided to wait
a few minutes before interrupting Jace for a ride home. The front
door opened and then slammed shut. Bryce walked over to
me.

“Don’t you want to come outside?” he
asked.

It was nice he’d remembered me, even if it
took a while to do so. “No. I’m really tired, so I think I’ll wait
in here. Thanks, though.” I didn’t try to suppress my massive
yawn.

Bryce sat next to me on the sofa. “Well, me
and the guys are leaving tomorrow. We thought we’d spend a couple
of days in New York before our flight leaves. I probably won’t see
you again for a while, so take care.”

“I will. Be careful, Bryce. I’ll miss you,” I
said, realizing I meant it.

“I’ll miss you too. Happy New Year, Alisa.” He
reached out to give me what I thought would be a brotherly hug. He
pulled me close, shocking me with his tenderness. As we disengaged
from our embrace, he touched the side of my face with his
fingertips. His hand moved to my neck and the calloused skin on his
thumb grazed the hollow of my throat. My eyelids fluttered closed
as he lowered his lips to mine.

“Goodbye,” he whispered.

My eyes flew open, but he was gone. I glanced
at the front door just in time to see it close. I thought for a
second that I’d fallen asleep and dreamed the whole thing. In all
my crazy fantasies, I never imagined my first kiss would come from
Bryce. I wasn’t even sure I liked him. Of course, he might not have
meant anything by it. There was no way I could convince myself that
his kiss was brotherly, but perhaps it was meant in friendship. We
were starting to get along better, after all.

As soon as my legs were working properly
again, I started down the hallway in search of Jace, ready to go
home and give serious thought to what had just happened. I had a
feeling my dreams would be filled with Bryce from now on. As I
raised my hand to knock on Jace’s door, I realized Bryce was
already part of my dreams and had been for some time. He was the
one who reached for me in the mists. His face was the one I didn’t
recognize. Not until now.

Chapter
Sixteen

Rachel

The day after I returned from Atlanta, I
stopped by to visit Jace. We stood outside in his driveway for an
eternity, just holding each other. A fine, misty rain began to
fall, so we went inside.

“Hi, sweetie. Did you have a good trip?”
Jerica asked, motioning for us to have a seat.

“We had a great time,” I replied.

“I wanted to have you all to myself,” Jace
complained across our link. I ignored him and sat down next to
Jerica. Jace rolled his eyes and threw himself into one of the
high-backed chairs next to his dad.

I decided to broach the topic of Jeffrey’s
tattoo. “Could you have a look at something? I was hoping you could
translate it, or at least tell me what language this
is.”

Everyone in the room fell silent as Jerica
peered at the pictures on my cell phone. “Where did you get this?”
Jerica asked, casting a quick glance toward Abe.

“I…I took the picture when my mother and I
went to Atlanta. I asked Jeffrey if Daddy ever gave him anything,
you know, like my necklace. Before our father died, Jeffrey
mentioned the idea of having these words tattooed on his shoulder.
Our father told him he should do it.” I summarized the conversation
between my brother and me, feeling disloyal when I mentioned
Jeffrey’s breakdown. His problems were a closely guarded family
secret, but I suspected his fear of being followed had less to do
with a mental breakdown, and more to do with Hunters. I thought the
information about the break-in was relevant given the fact that his
heirloom was stolen under what I believed were suspicious
circumstances.

Jerica’s face clouded over in horror as she
took another look at the images on my phone. “What is it?” I
cried.

“It’s a spell,” Jerica said. “It’s the
language of the Fae. I wonder how your father’s people came across
such a thing and if he knew what it meant. It’s similar to a
suppression spell, like the one in your necklace. Suppression
spells are common. I used to sew them into the boys’ clothing to
mask their magic when they were younger. But this is different.
I’ll have to ask an expert to have a look, but I believe it’s a
claiming spell.”

“What’s a claiming spell?” I asked.

Abe took my cell phone from Jerica and said,
“There are many types of claiming spells, and not all are bad. Some
are used for temporary magic suppression or protection—like the
spell in your necklace. Sometimes, a man speaks Claiming Words to
the woman he loves to show his intent to spend the rest of his life
with her. Demons use a variation of claiming spells to mark their
followers.”

“My brother isn’t a Demon-follower. I don’t
understand.”

“Sweetie, we’ll do everything we can to figure
this out,” Jerica said.

“If it’s a Demon’s spell, what does that mean?
What’s going to happen to Jeffrey?” I asked.