Spellbound (the Spellbound Series Book 1) (21 page)

Chapter 22

I should be relieved to see Krystal, even thankful that she intervened when she did. But somehow, I can’t bring myself to show any gratitude. Instead, I ask, “What the hell did you shoot them for?”

Krystal sighs, and mutters, “Calm down, Heather,” as she starts walking in my direction.

“Calm down? You just killed a bunch of people, and you want me to calm down?! What is wrong with-“

“I haven’t killed anyone.” Krystal kicks one of the spellcasters on the ground as she passes them, and he lets out a faint groan. “They’re just unconscious, it’s fine.”

“But… how?”

Krystal hands one of her pistols to me, and says, “These guns don’t fire bullets. Instead, you channel some of your energy into them, and the gun fires it in a concentrated burst. The energy passes right through whatever it hits. Doesn’t leave a mark on their skin, puncture their flesh, or rupture any blood vessels. It just causes a shitload of pain, sometimes enough to make the victim pass out. They’re actually based on the same premise as the blades these guys were about to use on you… they’ll hurt, but you won’t suffer any visible damage.”

I look down at the pistol in my hand. Rather than the usual black or pewter finish seen on most guns, the sleek metal is tinted a dark red, nearly the color of blood, and accentuated with silver lining. Engraved into the grip is a pair of silver wings, opened and ready for flight. I glance up at Krystal, and ask, “What’s with the logo?”

“It’s stupid… back when I made these, I named them both Angel’s Kiss, and used that little symbol because I sort of suck at engraving actual words.”

“You made these?”

“Yep. Twenty years ago. I bought and modified a pair of regular guns… it’s a long story.”

“Cool.” I hand the gun back to Krystal, who slides it into a black leather holster around her waist. I sigh, and mutter, “Thanks for saving me… even though I had the situation under control.”

“You were about to get your ass handed to you.”

“All part of the plan.”

“Right… well, let’s get out of here before more of them show up.” Krystal grabs me by the arm without waiting for a response, then transports us from the abandoned supermarket to her living room in the blink of an eye. She lets go of my arm, then traipses off to her room, chastising me as she walks down the hall. “What were you thinking?,” she asks as I pull down my hood. “You could have been killed!”

“Who could have been killed?” The door to Nick’s room opens, and his head peeks out curiously from within. He spots me, and his face immediately brightens. I can feel my lips drawing up in a smile, unbidden, as he comes down the hall, and pulls me into a hug. He leans down, and whispers in my ear, “I missed you,” and I realize for the first time how mutual the feeling really is. I draw him in closer and hold him tightly, before repeating the phrase in his ear. Nick turns to look down the hall, and asks, “What’s going on?”

Krystal rolls her eyes as she returns from her room, without her guns, and answers, “Oh, Heather decided that instead of running from a bunch of spellcasters that want her dead, she would try to fight them.”

I wriggle out of Nick’s arms, and say, “It was just one guy at first! And I could have handled them, somehow. I’m not quite as useless as you think I am.”

“I know you’re not useless Heather, but we can’t afford to lose you! Your safety should come first.”

“I’ll be fine! Come on, I’m a Conduit, remember?”

“Yeah, which isn’t code for ‘Heather is indestructible, or has any right to be cocky.’ You’re still young, and you barely know what you’re doing. Being ridiculously strong doesn’t mean shit when you’re up against people that not only have years of experience behind them, but have no reservations about killing you.”

I can’t deny any of what Krystal said; I DID get a little cocky when the opportunity to test my strength arose. And I still think the fight went well, all things considered. All the same, I sigh, and mutter, “You’re right. I should have run when I had the chance. Not that it would have helped much.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have no clue how long that first guy had been following me, but I’m willing to bet that they at least know where I live.”

“Probably.” Krystal crosses her arms, and walks over to the huge window overlooking Central Park. “They probably know about this place too, but that doesn’t help them any. If anyone attempted to teleport into this building but me, they’d get rerouted to the sewers.”

“Okay, that’s an awesome spell.”

“Thanks, but it doesn’t mean that the condo is impenetrable.”

“So, what do you propose we do?”

Krystal turns to face me, and says, “I don’t know. I’d try to keep you here, but then they’d be able to get their hands on both of us at once.”

“I wouldn’t want to be kept under lock and key anyway. I have a life, Krystal, and that shouldn’t stop just because your past is catching up with you. Besides, what about my mom?”

“Right… shit. I really don’t know.”

I look to Nick for an idea, but he offers me nothing but a shrug in response. The only thing I can think to do is leave New York altogether, which wouldn’t work because A) I’ve got finals coming up in a few weeks, B) my mom would never agree to leaving the state on such short notice, and C) Selene would eventually find us anyway. I could stay home, with my mom, and pretend nothing out of the ordinary is going on… but if I were found again, and forced into a fight that I couldn’t win, we’d be screwed. Then, another idea comes to mind… it’s not perfect, but it makes a lot more sense than anything else I can think of. “Krys, do you think I’ll be safer at a friend’s house than at home?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if I were to stay with a friend? Selene’s people would have a hard time finding me, especially if I kept my power under wraps like you taught me. My mom could stay with one of her friends, too, and you could put that rerouting spell over the places we end up staying.”

Krystal returns her gaze to the view outside her window as she considers the idea. Without turning around, she says, “That could work… as long as you always have an escort. They should ideally be a normal human being, though. Selene cares about the secrecy of the clan above all else, so you’d more than likely be safest traveling with someone who has no idea what a spellcaster even is.”

“Alright. I’ll get my mom to a safe place, and see if I know anyone that’ll let me sleep over indefinitely.”

“Good. You shouldn’t have to stay with anyone for too long. In the meantime, I’ll try to find a way to settle things with Selene peacefully.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“It’ll have to.” Krystal turns, and starts walking toward her room. Over her shoulder, she says, “We’re gonna have to put your lessons on hold for a while, since you’re supposed to be lying low.” Krystal looks back at me one last time before stepping into her room. “Call me when you figure out where you’re staying, so I can put up the spell. And be careful out there.” Then, she steps past the threshold, and closes the door. I’m not entirely sure, but I get the feeling from the way her voice wavered just a second ago that she’s not being rude, but rather unable to give me a real goodbye.

***

Since the rain has stopped for the most part, Nick and I decide to walk back to my place. His fingers find the spaces between mine, and we lock our hands together, giving me a brief sense of normalcy. Since Nick isn’t being very talkative, I start trying to think which of my friends love me enough to let me stay with them for a while. Rachel would have been my first choice, but her apartment is too small to accommodate an extra person indefinitely. That leaves me with my second choice, Jenna, whose family has a small house in Queens. I decide that I’m going to think of a story she’ll believe before I call her later.

Surprisingly, when Nick and I make it to my apartment, my mom is standing just inside the kitchen, still wearing her jacket, and going through the mail. She turns around as the door closes behind Nick, and has her arms around me before I can even let out a hello. She asks about my trip, but instead of answering, I dive right into explaining the situation with Krystal and Selene while giving her as little information as possible. It takes longer than expected, and by the end of it, my mom has wheedled every last detail out of me, but she agrees to find somewhere else to stay for a while. She pulls out her phone and starts flipping through her contacts, and heads off to her room to pack a few things, while Nick accompanies me to my room so I can do the same.

Nick stands silently by my door as I dig a duffel bag from under my bed, and start loading it with shirts. He’s never been in my room before, and out of the corner of my eye, I see him taking a look around, inspecting the bookshelf in particular with curiosity. He’s been wearing the same blank expression since we left the condo, and it’s starting to worry me. To anyone else, he might look fine, but I know him well enough to know when he’s not alright. His face might not betray much, but I can see it in his eyes, the lines on his forehead, his posture. I abandon packing for a moment, wrap my arms around him from behind, and whisper, “I’m going to be fine, okay? You don’t have to worry about me.”

Nick turns to face me, and whispers back, “You can’t guarantee that.”

“Maybe not, but I’m pretty confident that everything will be alright.”

“Yeah…” Nick rests his forehead against mine, and his soft brown eyes lock onto mine. “I just wish I didn’t feel so useless.”

“Hmm?”

“I wish there were something I could do to help you. But I’m useless here, Heather. You’re dealing with people I can’t protect you from, and even if you weren’t, you’re strong enough to handle things on your own. I guess… I just feel like I can’t do enough for you.”

I’d had a feeling this might be a problem. Nick, like most other “nice guys”, seems to think it’s his sworn duty to keep me out of harm’s way. Normally, I would just brush it off, but I feel he needs a reminder that I can take care of myself. “Nick, I told you right when we met, I’m no damsel in distress. I don’t need you to protect me 24/7, I need you to just continue being yourself. You do a lot more for me than you realize.”

“Like what?”

“Like making me laugh. Comforting me. Massaging me when I’m too sore to move… the list goes on. But what amazes me the most is how even in the midst of all the crazy shit we see and do every day, you still manage to make me feel like I’m not a freak.”

Nick smiles, and says, “That actually makes me feel like I’m not a bad boyfriend.”

“You’re a great boyfriend, okay? And I…”

“Yes?”

I pull away from Nick a tiny bit, and he does the same, watching me expectantly. We both know what almost slipped out, but I’m not quite ready to bring that sentence to its logical conclusion. I’m not entirely sure if that’s how I really feel, and I’m still sifting through the confusion and guilt surrounding what happened with Alyssa just over twenty four hours ago. So instead, I mutter, “And I care about you a lot.”

Nick nods understandingly, and whispers, “Likewise.” He leans in and briefly brushes his lips against mine, then says, “I have a surprise for you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a brand new cell phone. “They gave me a raise at work, so I bought this while you were away,” he explains. “Good thing, too… I’m guessing Krys wouldn’t want me visiting you too often, just in case. So, I’ll make a deal with you. You put your number in my phone, and I’ll call you every night.”

Without hesitation, I say, “Deal!,” and pull the phone out of his hands to program my number into his contacts list. Unsurprisingly, he has even fewer numbers in his phone than he does Facebook friends. When I hand him back his phone, I ask, “When are we gonna see each other again?”

“Hopefully, when your life isn’t in danger.”

I let out a hollow laugh, and return to packing my things. “Great, so the answer is never.”

Chapter 23

Jenna’s parents aren’t initially thrilled with the idea of me living with them for a while. I sit quietly, holding the phone away from my ear as they discuss whether or not I’m allowed to stay. When they finally ask why I can’t stay at home, I tell them my apartment has a roach infestation (which isn’t far from the truth), and that we need time to find a good exterminator, and a few roach-free nights. At this point, they relent, and say that I’m welcome to use their guest room as long as necessary. I can’t help but wonder why they even have a guest room if they’re so reluctant to let anyone use it.

My mom and I hug one last time as we meet in the lobby before leaving. She’s off to stay with Captain Douche, who lives on the West Side, while Nick escorts me to Queens. She looks like she wants to give me a few words of advice, but her knowledge of what I’m going through is limited. The best my mom can offer is a simple, “Be careful,” as we pull apart to go our separate ways. I promise her that I will, and that I’ll call her every day to let her know I’m alright.

I’m only carrying a duffel bag full of clothes, and a backpack containing my laptop and textbooks, so when Nick asks to hold something on the subway ride to Jenna’s house, I tell him I’m fine. He settles for holding my hand as the stations roll by. I have to admit, I’m not looking forward to the moment when he has to let go, so I’m pleasantly surprised when we reach our stop, and we walk up the steps to street level with our fingers still linked.

We walk several avenues down, and come to a stop in front of the house that I’m sure Jenna lives in. Nick leans down, and kisses me on the forehead before whispering, “See you soon.” I plant a gentle kiss on his cheek, and repeat his words to him, before we reluctantly pull our fingers apart. I watch for a while as Nick slowly heads back toward the train station, occasionally looking over his shoulder.

I don’t have to wait long after ringing the doorbell for Jenna to answer it. She looks ridiculously tired, as if she hasn’t slept in a couple of days, and her usual high-energy demeanor is noticeably subdued. She’s still enough like the Jenna I’m used to, though; before I even get in the house, she grins, and asks, “How’s the homeless life treating you?”