Spellbound (Spellbringers Book 1) (19 page)

Jerica looked at Abe before answering. “Well,
the tattoo makes him invisible to Hunters.”

“Why is that bad, though? If they can’t sense
his presence, they can’t hurt him, right?” I asked.

“Hunters can’t sense him, but if a Demon comes
in contact with him, he’ll believe Jeffrey is a Shifter—a
Demon-follower,” Jerica said.

“How can Demons sense him if Hunters can’t?”
Jace asked.

“Hunters have limited magic. Their gifts are
strong, but no match for a Demon’s. Jeffrey’s magic is suppressed,
but not completely hidden. Jeffrey will never be able to tap into
his magic, but a Demon can,” Abe said.

“I think it’s safe to assume the people
Jeffrey believed were following him were Hunters,” Jerica said.
“They were drawn to Jeffrey’s magic which the spelled stone he
carried was not entirely successful in suppressing.”

“How is it that Jeffrey and I have magic to
begin with? I don’t understand.”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Jerica
said calmly.

“Why would Rachel’s father have told Jeffrey
it was a good idea to get that tattoo?” Jace asked. “It doesn’t
make sense.”

“None of it makes sense,” I said. “My father
didn’t know anything about magic and spells. And even if he did, he
wouldn’t have told Jeffrey to get a tattoo that tied him to a
Demon.”

Abe cleared his throat. “Rachel, I hate to
compound your unhappiness, but I’ve hit a dead end with the
research I’ve been doing in regards to your father’s family
history. There’s no record of birth for anyone by the name of
Darius Franklin Stevens—at least not on the birth date you
provided. I have a reliable guy I sometimes work with who can look
into other possibilities. Do you want me to continue my research?
It’s up to you.”

“Yes, please. I want to know everything about
my father, now more than ever. I can’t believe it. It’s like I
didn’t know him at all.” I fought back tears of confusion and rage.
How could my father keep so many secrets from his family? Why
didn’t my mother find out more about him before marrying
him?

Jerica told Abe and Jace to brew some coffee.
They left the room. Downtrodden and depressed, I examined my
fingernails so I wouldn’t have to look at Jerica. I knew what she
was going to say, and I didn’t want to hear it.

“Rachel, it’s time to start training. I think
you realize that now. Look at me, honey.” Her voice was soft, but
commanding. I looked into her eyes, hoping she didn’t notice my
unshed tears. “I know you’re worried about Jeffrey, but you won’t
help him by remaining unprotected. I need you to start training for
my own selfish reasons. The more vulnerable you are, the more
distracted Jace will be. His concern for your safety will leave him
open to attack. If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for my
son.”

Jerica was a truly perceptive woman. She knew
I was thinking of giving up on magic altogether. I felt guilty that
Jeffrey’s gift was taken from him before he even had a chance to
develop it. He was robbed, pure and simple. Robbed of his
birthright, his magic, his ability to defend himself.

“Think about it this way,” she continued.
“Your gift may someday save your brother. Why deny yourself the
chance to develop your skills? Punishing yourself will not release
his magic. I’m sure your father had good reasons to do what he did.
I’m certain his motive was to protect you both. Do not allow any of
this to diminish the love you have for him.”

“I know, it’s just…I’m so angry with him right
now. Everything I thought I knew about him was a lie.” I couldn’t
stop the tears from falling.

“Was your father loving? Was he kind? Did he
take good care of his family?” I nodded my head in response to each
of Jerica’s questions. “Not everything is about facts and numbers,
Rachel. There is truth in love. He was honest about what
mattered—his love for his family. Don’t let anything take that away
from you.”

“You’re right.”

“
Until we can get this all figured
out, I’ll increase the number of Watchers, Protectors, and Warriors
around the city to enhance your brother’s protection. Jeffrey isn’t
alone in this and neither are you.”

“Thank you, Jerica,” I said.

My worry over Jeffrey would be a constant
tickle in the back of my mind, probably for the rest of my life. I
longed for days past when the only things I had to worry about were
grades and college applications. I used to live in a world where
magic only existed in my silly little vampire novels. Now magic
followed me everywhere, and I couldn’t find safety even in my
dreams.

***

I’d been to the castle before, but
familiarity did nothing to decrease my sense of fear. Terror kicked
in the moment I became aware of my surroundings. Shrouded in near
darkness, I looked about the castle and marveled at the Gothic
architecture, shivering in response to the desolate evil of the
place.

Voices drifted down the far
corridor, and I followed the sound against my will. My dream-feet
didn’t travel in footsteps, but instead floated along on a conveyor
belt of compulsion. I stopped abruptly outside a towering mahogany
door and hunkered down in the hollow behind the staircase. A
disembodied conversation wafted from behind the slightly opened
door.

I didn’t need to listen. I knew
the script by heart—the words of a million identical dreams. Each
syllable carried the weight of every fear I’d ever held close to my
heart, every icy prickle of dread I’d ever felt.

“The truce won’t last, Ancient
One, if you continue to interfere in my personal affairs. My
vendetta far surpasses any claim you believe you might have,” the
Cold One hissed.

A deeper voice replied. “Do not
threaten me. I walked this earth for centuries before you were
born, and likely I’ll continue long after your body is rotting in
the ground under my feet.”

A magnetic pull dragged me from my
hiding place behind the stairs. I struggled to resist, fought
against the urge to reveal myself. I reached the threshold of the
high-ceilinged room and my heartbeat threatened to shatter my
ribcage. As the fair-haired man began to turn, I breathed a sigh of
relief. This was the point where I woke up. Only, this time, I
didn’t. His golden hair glinted in the candlelight and his ice-blue
eyes met mine. He was beautifully, terrifyingly inhuman.

“It appears we have a guest.
Perhaps we should let her decide whose Mark to bear,” he
hissed.

Startled, the dark-haired man
turned his head to look at me. His black eyes narrowed and darted
toward his adversary. He quickly stepped in front of me to shield
me from the other’s view. “There is no choice,” he said, “only
prior claim.”

“Jabron had many masters,” the
other said. “Until she bears a Mark, she is fair game between
us.”

“This is not a game, Nevare. Not
to me. I’ll protect her at all costs…and those who guard her,” the
Dark One insisted.

“So, you insist upon using those
pathetic creatures which make up your army? I don’t care how well
you think you’ve trained them, Re’Vel, Hunters…”

“Are none of your concern,” the
Dark One finished. “If you choose to encroach upon my territory,
those creatures will rip you apart.”

“Hunters are easily destroyed, you
fool. Don’t forget, I watched my brother’s army of one-hundred fall
to a mere five Warriors,” Nevare said. “They’re
mindless…”

“So are you. And remember, those
Warriors almost killed you in the desert that day. You nearly met
the same fate which took your brother,” Re’Vel said.

“Don’t speak of that. I’ll wipe
every Alexander from the face of the earth.” Spittle flew from his
mouth as he made this threat. I cowered behind Re’Vel, the lesser
of the two evils. “I’m warning you. Your claim does not supersede
my own. Should you try to take her and use her for your own
purposes, it will start a war the world has never seen.”

“So, you choose to sever our
alliance over such a small matter?” Re’Vel asked, his voice
calm.

“If it’s so small a matter, why do
you fight for her so?” Nevare took another step toward
Re’Vel.

“I have my reasons,” the Dark One
said, turning to me. He lowered his lips within an inch of my own
and whispered, “Sleep, my love.”

I woke up alone in my own bed, my breathing
coming in shallow gasps. I lay unmoving until my alarm shrieked a
painful “Good Morning.” When the unmistakable rumble of the garbage
truck became louder, I jolted from bed, grabbed a book from the
bedside table, and ran barefoot down the stairs. I didn’t bother to
shut the front door behind me as I sprinted outside. I tossed the
book into the trash can at the end of my driveway just as the
garbage truck pulled up.

No more vampire romance novels for me. My life
was complicated enough without my questionable choice in reading
material intruding upon my usual nightmares. I watched until the
garbage was gone, and then went back inside. The disturbing dream
stayed with me all day.

Chapter
Seventeen

Alisa

Panic overtook me the day before Winter Break
ended. How could it be over? I willed time to slow down, but to no
avail. The first day back to school after the long break hit me in
the face like a sledgehammer. Actually, I think I would have
preferred a blow to the face. Then I could have stayed home, or in
the hospital. Anything was preferable to going back to
school.

Bleary eyed and depressed, I dragged myself
from the warm comfort of my bed and into the shower, ready to begin
the second semester of the school year. I tried to count down the
days until spring break, but it was early and my brain power had
not yet kicked in. Dead tired from lack of sleep, I stumbled
through my morning routine.

Jace called my phone at seven to announce his
arrival in my driveway. I ran down the steps, yelled goodbye to my
mom, and almost tripped over my cat as I ran out the door. “Hey,” I
mumbled, slumping into the passenger seat.

“Hey yourself.” Jace wasn’t any happier about
the whole back-to-school thing than I was, but at least he looked
better than I did. He always looked good. So did Rachel, I reminded
myself.

It was hard enough to remember I wasn’t
allowed to crush on Jace. Having tackled that obstacle in my life
(for the most part), I now faced a more difficult challenge—trying
to forget about Bryce. Ever since New Year’s Eve, I faced the
constant torment of thinking about the tall, brooding brother of my
best friend. I had finally decided I could let bygones be bygones
and try to get along, possibly even be friends, with Bryce. But
then he had to mess everything up with that kiss.

I thought about that kiss obsessively and had
become irritable and distracted the last part of my beloved Winter
Break because of it. After deciding that Bryce was either crazy or
drunk, anger took over. I had fantasized about my first kiss ever
since I could remember. I’d always suffered from Fairy Tale
Princess Syndrome and had been waiting for my prince to come since
potty training. Instead of experiencing my first kiss with my one
true love, Prince Charming or the guy from Little Mermaid, I got
stuck with the Beast. So, maybe Bryce was cute underneath the fur…
okay I was getting lost in Princess Land again.

I felt cheated. Bryce didn’t love me or even
want me around. He ruined my first kiss. That’s why I was angry.
Despite the fact that it was a nice kiss, he ripped a hole in my
fantasy—a hole big enough for him to step right in. Now every time
I closed my eyes, I saw his face. When I woke up in the morning,
wisps of half-remembered dreams dissipating, I saw Bryce floating
there for just a moment.

I’m not sure if Jace noticed how crabby and
jumpy I’d become over the last few days, but I doubted it. Men were
oblivious, and besides, he was happy to have Rachel back from her
trip. For once, I was pleased he didn’t pay attention to me,
grateful to be able to fly under the radar.

The day was a total loss. First period was
categorized by my herculean effort to stay awake. In second period,
I did fall asleep. I was awakened by an angry history teacher and
twenty cackling students. At least I didn’t drool or talk in my
sleep. I barely made it through the day, only awakening from my
stupor when the bell rang and it was time to go home. I made a
mental note to thank Bryce for letting Jace use his truck,
otherwise I would have had to walk through a cold rain to get home.
The ride was a blur.

I decided to check my email and download a few
research notes before taking a nap. I deleted spam and junk mail
before reading anything of value. Singles website ads, Nigerian
mail scams, secret shopper job offers—I hit delete as if on auto
pilot until a familiar name caught my eye. For the first time that
day, I was fully awake, my heart beating in my chest as if I had
just run a marathon. Not that I ever would.

Bryce. Hands shaking, I clicked on his message
to open it. Wherever he was, he obviously had access to the
internet. I found it incredible that he would choose to write to me
and wondered how he found my email address.

Alisa,

I’m sorry about the way I left you
on New Year’s Eve, with a quick kiss and no explanation. Believe
me, I don’t regret kissing you. I’m not sorry for that. What I’m
sorry for is moving so fast. I know I’ve been cold, even downright
rude to you, and I have no excuse. I’ve tried my hardest not to
like you, but I can’t help it. I do. I’ve never felt this way
before, so this is very confusing. If you hate me, I understand.
Like I said, I’m sorry for not waiting until you felt the same way
about me as I feel about you. If you can find it in your heart to
email me back, I would appreciate it. It gets lonely
here.