The Witch Collector Part II (7 page)

“You will tell me!” she shouted.

The last bit of hold I had on the magic broke. I felt a rush and the flames lifted from the candles, gathering into balls of fire. They careened wildly around the room, my control completely gone.

Seralina dropped my hands and screamed, covering her face. I tried to focus, tried to ignore the knifelike pains stabbing at my lungs, but I couldn’t. My limbs went numb and I fell forward, hitting the coffee table with a thud and sliding onto the pristine white carpet.

“Let it go, Breeda.” Shelley’s voice. She stood on the marble platform, her right hand grasping her talisman. Ion’s gaze darted about, following the smoky trails left by the ricocheting balls of fire.

“Clear your mind,” Shelley said, her voice oddly calm. “Please. I can’t fight you.”

I couldn’t do what she’d asked. Images stampeded through my brain like a herd of wild bulls. I caught one—my mother singing while she did the spring planting—and held it, living in the peaceful slice of my past for one brief, glorious moment.

“That’s it,” Shelley said. The flames separated, hovering for a moment before returning to the candles. Tendrils of smoke wafted toward the open balcony door and disappeared into the late-morning breeze.

I took in the shocked faces around me. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Don’t be,” Seralina retorted after composing herself. “At least now I know you aren’t totally defenseless against Gavin.”

I glanced at Shelley, whose mouth dropped open like a hatch door. With difficulty, I forced myself to focus on the tarot cards. “So you’re after Gavin, too?”

Seralina nodded. “For some time now.”

Ion slammed the door to the balcony shut. “Why does he have to ruin everything?” he asked his mother. “Why is he punishing me?”

“Because he only thinks of himself,” Seralina answered coldly. “You know that.”

“Ion?” Shelley asked, saying his name gently. “What’s going on?”

“My father is an asshole,” Ion answered, his voice cracking. “Which is why I can’t transition.”

“I’m confused,” I said. “Could you explain—”

“We can,” Ion said. “But only after you tell us how you sent that fire flying around without touching your talisman.”

All eyes froze on the useless stone hanging from my neck.

Seralina smoothed down her kimono. “Darling,” she said, turning her intense gaze to me, “we obviously have a lot to discuss.”

Chapter 8

“P
oint me toward the kitchen,” Shelley said quickly. “I need to make her a tisane.”

“I’ll show you where it is,” Ion said. “Not that I could help you with anything, being totally useless and all. I’m like a witch eunuch, an empty—”

“You are acting like a child,” Seralina said sharply. “Just take her to the kitchen.”

Ion led Shelley down a narrow passageway at the far end of the room. He looked back at me before they disappeared into the depths of the apartment, disappointment marring his features.
Oh, you don’t know the half of it,
I thought. But then, I didn’t know
any
of it. Was Ion really Gavin’s son? Did Brandon have a brother? Did he know?

I pushed myself up, using the coffee table for support. Seralina watched me struggle, a faint trace of disgust in the set of her mouth. This woman did not like weakness.

“Can you manage?” she asked, but sat back on the sofa without extending her hand. I forced my muscles to exert themselves, and slid myself next to her on the couch. The magic stirring in me shifted course, filtering from my lungs to the rest of my body, scratching at my nerves.

“How did you know to come here?” It hurt to speak, but I didn’t want Seralina to be the one steering the conversation. “Why are you looking for him?”

“The cards sent me here,” she replied matter-of-factly. “What’s your reason?”

Shelley returned before I had to answer, walking quickly but carefully as she carried a steaming mug across the wood floor. Ion trailed her, his eyes angry. “I had to microwave the water to save time,” Shelley said. “Not the best scenario, but drink up, buttercup!”

The warm mug soothed my trembling hands. I took a drink, then another, letting the tisane work its way through my system. The pulsing weakened its hold on my lungs.

While I recovered, Seralina appraised her son, taking in his clenched fists and locked jaw. “The sun is lovely today, Ion. It might make you feel better about the state of things if you sat on the patio and took it in.”

It seemed like less of a suggestion and more of an order, but Ion didn’t move. “I think I’ll stay here.”

I caught Shelley’s eye and gave a slight nod. “It does look very nice,” she said, smiling brightly at him. “I wouldn’t mind taking in the sun for a while, after all this craziness. What do you say?”

Ion glanced at his mother under a canopy of dark, floppy hair. “I guess,” he mumbled, and abruptly turned on his heel and grabbed Shelley’s hand. I watched through the glass as they settled into a pair of Adirondack chairs, facing each other.

Seralina cleared her throat. “Well?”

I didn’t say anything. I’d spent the past few days feeling at a constant disadvantage. Everyone knew more than I did, forcing me to piece things together on the fly. I wanted her to talk first. I picked up my cooling tisane and took a few tiny sips.

“I’m waiting,” Seralina said, in a voice that told me she wasn’t used to waiting for anything.

I watched Shelley gesticulating wildly as she explained something to Ion. Her hands flew over her head and jabbed at the air. Ion laughed, his face visibly relaxing. I took a few more sips.

Seralina sighed. “Fine. I’ll take the first round. If I tell you my story, do you give me your word you will reciprocate?”

“On my honor.”

“You’ve just bound yourself to the act, Breeda Fergus. You understand, correct?”

“I do,” I promised, my exasperation growing. “Now would you please tell me why you’re here and looking for Gavin?”

“I want him to stop whatever nonsense he’s up to so Ion can transition.”

“What do you mean?”

“Gavin is my husband, and Ion’s father,” she began.

I tried to wrap my brain around that, to see past Ion’s dark hair and pale skin. Was there a resemblance? His height . . . the way he held his head, tilted slightly to the side, reminded me of Brandon. Wait . . . was this woman his mother?

I took in her blond hair, her high cheekbones. The resemblance to Brandon was subtle but there.
And what about your older son?
I thought. I knew I should keep quiet, but my temper flared. “Did you leave Brandon willingly? Isn’t he also your son?”

Seralina went totally still, save a tiny twitch at the corner of her crimson lips. When I refused to break my stare, she straightened her shoulders as if she’d made an internal decision to press on. “I left Gavin because he’d begun to dabble in Black Magic again.”

“Again?”

“Once that particular fire is lit, it never quite goes out.” She studied me a moment, her flinty eyes softening a tiny bit. “What do most witches truly want when they turn to dark things? Power over the natural world that rules us, no? Sometimes this requires money, something witches are not particularly gifted at making. Sometimes, it requires a gift one may not be blessed with. Gavin was never pleased with what he’d been given.”

But he’d be thrilled with what
I’d
been dealt. As an unmarked, I would solve Gavin’s problems. I shuddered.

“He can be quite charming, and is fairly reasonable when not under Black Magic’s influence. When I insisted on leaving, he agreed I’d take Ion, because he carries the Romany mark.”

“And you left Brandon?” My heart ached for him. “Why would you do that? Because he held Gavin’s marks?”

“Brandon doesn’t hold any marks at all,” she said, carefully watching my reaction. “Do you know what that means?”

The air caught in my throat.
Do I know what that means?
I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Part of me wanted to hold Brandon and tell him I understood too well what he was going through. The other part, a scared, distrustful knot in the pit of my belly, wanted to run far away from him, fearful of what he’d collected. “Yes,” I managed to say. “I’ve heard of it.” Seralina began to speak, but I couldn’t follow what she was saying. Was Brandon lying when he said he carried his father’s gift, or did he simply not know? Did he know about me? Seralina cleared her throat and I jolted back into the moment.

“To be honest,” she said, “it frightened me. Those born without marks are unwelcome in our culture, to put it mildly. If anyone discovered I’d given birth to such a child, my family would always be held in contempt, and Ion, so close in age to Brandon, would always be under suspicion. No one would accept us. Add a non-Romany father practicing Black Magic and the whole scenario was a recipe for disaster.” She paused. “You may think I’m horrible for leaving one son to save the other, but you are young and have not yet had to make the most difficult decisions in life.”

I thought about my own parents, and their willingness to leave everything—family, friends, coven—for me.

“Judge me if you like,” Seralina continued, a sharp edge to her voice, “but it’s my duty to look out for Ion’s best interests.”

Focus on Gavin,
I thought, pushing away a sarcastic retort.
Focus on his trail.
“So you think Gavin is stopping Ion’s transition somehow?”

“I know he is,” Seralina insisted. “Ion is Romany, but half his blood is still his father’s. If Gavin has been practicing Black Magic, he’s disrupting the natural order of things, putting a halt to Ion’s transition. To Romanies, a witch who doesn’t transition is considered unnatural, a demon.”

After the past few days, demons were no longer simply monsters in campfire stories to me. I gazed out the glass doors at Ion, chatting animatedly with Shelley. He was the furthest thing from demonic. Still, uneasiness settled in the pit of my stomach.

Seralina placed an ice-cold hand on my arm. “You see, then, why I want him to stop whatever it is he’s doing.” She frowned. “Unfortunately, Gavin doesn’t react very well when others tell him what to do. Even me.”

What exactly was Gavin doing? What did he intend to do once he got me? It couldn’t possibly be a coincidence both Brandon and I lacked markings. Why would he need me if he had an unmarked witch already?

“It’s your turn,” Seralina said. “You aren’t leaving here until you tell me everything.”

I began, already editing my story in my head.

When I finished, Seralina sat very quietly. She’d gasped when I told her about Greta and her ruined talisman, and clucked sympathetically when I revealed what happened to my parents. When I told her about Brandon, she cast her eyes down. “Why did he come to Chicago?” she murmured.

“To protect me,” I said. “At least I think so.”

She started to tremble. At first I thought she was crying, but when she finally raised her head, her eyes shone with anger, not tears. “Gavin ruins lives, Breeda,” she said. “He must be stopped. What are you not telling me?”

I told her more things she already knew. About what Evie revealed about Gavin’s behavior in the past. What Dobra said about Black Magic.

I didn’t tell her I was also unmarked.

If Seralina knew, she might not want to help me. She might not want to be anywhere near me. She hadn’t mentioned that I hadn’t used my talisman just a quarter of an hour ago, and I hoped my story might serve as a distraction, pushing the issue to the side.

“I don’t know what my parents discovered about Gavin, but whatever it is, it must be pretty terrible.”

It was Seralina’s turn to look over at Ion. Her face took on a wistful quality. “Black Magic is the most destructive force I know,” she said softly. “Please keep that in mind as you continue your search.”

“Of course.”

She stood and picked up my mug, my cue to leave. “If you find him, I want to know.”

“If you agree to tell me if you find him, too.”

“Fine,” she said, as we walked toward the glass balcony doors. “And Breeda,” she added as I signaled to Shelley, “I haven’t forgotten your mysterious ability to conduct magic without a talisman. I’m not going to press you to tell me what you’re hiding, but if it results in Ion getting hurt in any way, you’ll have me to answer to.”

Chapter 9

“T
hat was insane,” Shelley said when we hit the lobby. The ancient at the front desk watched us curiously from behind his post.

“How’d it go, girls?”

“Not so great,” I admitted.

“Eh,” he said, “those Romanies think they’re better than everyone else.” He leaned over the counter and winked. “You gals won’t be alone for long. Young witches never are.”

“They are if they want to be,” Shelley retorted.

He sighed and slowly eased himself back behind the desk, mumbling to himself about the folly of youth.

We walked part of the way home, through a patchwork of Chicago neighborhoods. Miro needed time to clear the air in the apartment, and though it felt like we’d been gone for ages, we’d only been inside the Moonstone for an hour.

The streets were quiet, and we wandered through a neighborhood comprised of beautiful houses set back from the street and sidewalks twice the normal width of those in the rest of the city. I slowed my steps, the sedate atmosphere helping me ignore the bruised feeling just under my skin. It hurt to think about what I’d just learned, but I had to run through it again and again until I could begin to fit the facts together.

“Do you want to tell me?” Shelley asked tentatively.

“Seralina is looking for Gavin, too,” I began. “She thinks because he’s been using Black Magic, Ion won’t transition.”

Shelley’s brows knitted with concern. “It’s weird he hasn’t started yet, but what would Gavin have to do with it?”

“He’s Ion’s dad.”

“Seriously?” Shelley stopped walking. “Does Brandon have a different mother?”

“No,” I said.

Shock rounded Shelley’s mouth into a small O. “They’re . . . brothers?”

“Yep.” I hesitated for a moment before telling her the rest. Brandon’s status added a new dimension to the conversation. Revealing it put him at risk, just as it did with me.