Hold Tight (The Embrace Series) (2 page)

“Do you want to eat downstairs?” he asked.

“Sure.”

We descended the curved staircase to Isaac’s basement bedroom. It was dark at first, but I knew now that was due to one of Isaac’s wards: a type of protection spell he’d cast when he had first discovered Gloucester crawled with people who possessed the powers. There was a nook in the wall every third step, each occupied by a candle that flickered to life as we passed.

I had tried something similar in my room, only I’d used a three-wick candle. It was supposed to light by itself when I crossed the threshold. The only thing I had accomplished, however, had been a very curious look from my dad, who had wanted to know if there was a spider in my room that was making me pace in and out of it with such a disgusted look on my face. He’d even offered to get my brother to kill it for me. My dad was full of jokes.

Isaac set a couple pillows on the stone floor and then excused himself as he ducked into the bathroom. I set my plate down and quickly took the book on Fae out of my purse.

It was Isaac’s mom who’d told me the stories about the Fae, kind creatures who would clean the homes of humans in exchange for cream. I’d nearly spit my hot cider across the dining room table when she’d brought it up.

“You’re joking,” I’d said after managing to compose myself.

She’d held her hand up, three fingers raised and thumb holding her pinky down. “Scout’s honor. My aunt used to leave a bowl of cream out so they’d keep coming back.” Taking a sip of tea, she’d then leaned forward, her heather-gray eyes alight with the memory. “Let me tell you, you could see your reflection off just about every smooth surface in her house. It was that clean.”

“Have you ever seen a faerie, Mrs. Addington?”

I’d been dying to know if they were little people with wings like Tinker Bell, but she couldn’t say for sure. Her mom hadn’t been as open to inviting faeries into their home and never let her children spend the night at her aunt’s.

Later that same evening, I had thumbed through the ironclad book in Isaac’s room. It talked about a complex world and two courts: the Seelie, which was believed to be good, and the Unseelie, which was malignant. It discussed solitary Fae, bogies, solstice celebrations, rules for seeing them, and more.

“Haven’t you read enough about the supernatural world?” Isaac had asked when he’d seen me with the book.

“Are you kidding? When a girl discovers demons and faeries are real, she’s going to look for evidence of unicorns and pixie dust.”
And a summoning spell
, but I’d kept that last comment to myself because, as open as Isaac was about using our powers, he’d already told me he didn’t trust anything that wasn’t human.

In fact, he had slid the book from my grasp and said, “Believe me. You aren’t going to find anything useful in
The Fae
.”

But it had been too late. I’d already seen a page containing a summoning spell.
Seelie
had been scribbled in the margin. I recognized the narrow handwriting as Isaac’s. Someone else had tweaked the incantation, though, crossing out a word here and a phrase there and replacing each with others. I bet the spell was how Isaac had managed to pack his things so meticulously when he’d moved from Amesbury to Gloucester this past October.

Isaac’s aversion to the whole subject had me believing he wouldn’t have been keen on me taking
The Fae
home, so I’d secretly borrowed it.

And I had to admit, after hearing that creepy voice three-fourths of the way through casting the spell to summon a faerie, I wasn’t so keen on it either.

I’d just turned to place
The Fae
on the black sphere chair when Isaac rejoined me.

“Why is it every girl is obsessed with faeries?” he said.

I looked at the stolen contraband still in my hot hands. Relieved he hadn’t seen me pull it from my purse, I mused, “Tinker Bell rules.”

Isaac rolled his eyes. “That’s because she’s been Disney-fied.”

I dropped the book on top of the pile and took a seat. We held our plates and used his bed as a backrest.

“How are you liking
The Scarlet Letter
?” Isaac took a bite of lasagna, immediately making a face. “Needs cheese.” He held his hand out in front of him. “
Accio
parmesan cheese.”

A shaker container appeared in his hand.

“Omigod! That’s a real spell?” I asked.

He chuckled, burying his pasta in a layer of white flecks. “I was just messing around. Psychokinesis is easy once you learn to manipulate matter. No spell needed. But they did get some things right in those movies.”

“Like what?” I generously sprinkled cheese over my dinner.

“The black dog, for one—it’s a hell hound—and there are a ton of uses for mandrake root. The plants don’t come alive and scream if you pull them out of dirt, though.”

“And wands?” I asked through a mouthful of noodles.

“They add flair to a spell.” He raised his hand, fingers gripping his fork in front of him, and gave a flick and a swoosh of his wrist. “Otherwise, they’re strictly decorative.”

Isaac had taught me a few spells. They pulled power from our surroundings and transformed it into energy we could use to do our bidding, no fancy words required.

He reached over me and sifted through the pile of books on the chair, eventually handing me one. “This is one of my favorite books.”

“
Earthly Elements
?” I asked.

“It’s more useful than a book on devious creatures that will twist your words to their advantage.”

After what I’d heard when I’d attempted to perform the summoning spell, I wasn’t going to argue with him.

“Besides,” he continued, “you need to know which natural elements will protect you and which will invite trouble.” He opened the book to a random page and went back to eating.

I read the first paragraph. “You think I’m going to need to know how to make a deal at a crossroad?”

“Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the best example,” Isaac replied through a full mouth. He swallowed. “But we have used crossroad dirt. Haven’t you wondered why?”

I hadn’t, but according to the book, demons could be summoned at a crossroad that passed through the point where the veil between worlds was at its thinnest. The ground in these locations absorbed the lingering power like a sponge.

“Do you really think someone would make a deal with the devil in exchange for talent?” I asked, still scanning the page.

“Yeah, I do. Ever hear Robert Johnson’s music?”

I shook my head.

“My grandfather used to listen to him all the time. ‘Cross Road Blues’ is all about a deal being made.”

I shuddered at the thought of selling my soul just to be the best at something.

“Witches don’t need to make deals, though,” Isaac said. Curiosity had me pulling my gaze away from the page to look at him. He smiled and went on. “If we want to play the guitar, we can simply bewitch it.” He shrugged. “It’s cheating, though. Not very honorable, if you ask me, but at least we wouldn’t be giving away our souls just so we can strum a few tunes. That reminds me, I checked on Emma last night.”

“She still crazy?” I asked in an acid tone. After her repeated attempts on my life, I was perfectly fine with her being a long-term resident in the psych ward.

Isaac ignored my snide remark. “She was too sedated to tell, but it’s safe to say she won’t be causing any more problems for us even when she gets out.”

He held his now-empty plate in front of him and focused on it. It quivered in his hand and then vanished. A moment later, a faint clatter came from the room above us.

My eyes grew wide. “Did you just put that in the sink?” His smug grin answered for him. “Do you know how much time it would save me to be able to blink the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher? I could zap the dust bunnies from under the kitchen table. My dad would get off my back about the chores piling up.” I tossed the elements book on the chair. “You have got to teach me how to do that!”

He laughed. “We’ll work on it.”

After an hour of trying to learn how the heck Isaac had managed to do his witchy-stare,
poof-
now-you-see-it-now-you-don’t trick, I gave up. I couldn’t even snatch a quarter off the floor without bending down and picking the damn thing up with my hands.

We stopped at the grocery store on the way to my house. Isaac went to get pasta sauce and chips for his mom while I headed to the dairy section. I grabbed a gallon of milk and turned quickly, bumping into a guy in his late teens.

“Sorry,” he said, grabbing the milk I’d nearly dropped.

A surge of heat shot through me when his fingers brushed mine. Surprised, I yanked my hand away.

“You’ll probably want this.” He held the gallon out to me.

I took it from him, purposely touching his hand to see if what I’d felt was a fluke. His skin was warm, like he had a fever, but there was no shock to indicate he possessed the powers. He gave me a funny look, which made me realize I was staring.

“Sorry.” I tucked my hair behind my ear. “I didn’t see you.”

“No harm done.”

I moved to my left at the same time he moved to his right. He smiled, his chocolate-brown eyes peeking out from under dark bangs. He had sharp features and a five o’clock shadow, and he was still in my way. I stepped toward the aisle, but so did he.

“I’ll just—” I indicated with a glance what direction I needed to go.

He turned sideways, letting me pass.

“Thanks.”

When I reached the chip aisle, I glanced over my shoulder. The guy watched me, his head cocked to the side. Not at all sure what to make of him, I hurried to join Isaac, who held a jar of marinara sauce in one hand and a variety of chips in the other.

“Ready?” he asked.

At the checkout, I paid first and then surveyed the store while I waited for Isaac to pay for his things. The guy I had bumped into was nowhere in sight, but I couldn’t shake the feeling something was off about him.

Chapter 3

Playing with Magic

The next morning, Dad opened Chase’s dresser drawer and figured out just how far behind I was on my chores.

“How hard would it be to toss in a load of laundry once in a while?” His voice dripped with exhaustion as he sniffed the socks Chase had worn the previous day. Deciding they would do, he gave them to my brother to put on.

Guilt nagged at me. I’d been too busy hanging out with Isaac to worry about clean clothes.

“I promise I’ll do a load after school,” I replied without thinking through my choice of words.

The school day flew by, and I was still kicking myself in the butt for making that promise because, with my powers, those two little words—
I promise—
meant I
had
to do laundry when I got home. No more stalling or pretending I hadn’t noticed our hampers were regurgitating two weeks’ worth of clothes.

Isaac drove me to pick Chase up at the sitter’s and then dropped us off at home, bringing my inevitable appointment with the washing machine around way too soon.

“It’s you and me, squirt,” I said as I stuffed Chase’s mittens into the sleeve of his jacket and hung it by the hood on the banister in the foyer. “How about you pick up your toys while I go upstairs to sort the laundry?”

“No way! I want to finish the movie I started last night!”

I placed my hands on his shoulders and turned him around. “You can clean while you watch TV.” When his head drooped forward in obvious disappointment, I added, “If you put away your Hot Wheels and stack Dad’s magazines into a neat pile, you can stay up until eight thirty. Do we have a deal?”

“And eat ice cream for dinner?”

“And have ice cream for
dessert.
”

“Okay!” Chase ran into the other room.

A few minutes later, I came downstairs with a basket full of light-colored clothes. Upbeat music rang out of the family room. I peeked in to see Chase holding a copy of
Handyman Magazine
as he bounced along with the music to Disney’s
The Sword in the Stone
.

“What happened to cleaning while you watched your movie?” I balanced the basket on my hip so I could grab his gray hoodie off the back of the couch.

“I am.” He pointed to the end table. “See, I used magic to stack the magazines. Just like Merlin.”

“You did what?” The basket nearly slipped from my grip.

Since the powers ran in our blood, it stood to reason Chase would possess them, eventually. But could he have tapped into his at such a young age? I tried to remember when Isaac and our friend Josh Corey had said they’d embraced their powers. I was pretty sure they had been eight or nine, and they’d learned about them through their parents.

I studied Chase, searching for any supernatural movement from him or the magazines.