Chapter Nineteen
I rolled out of the way right as an older man with messy long hair and a goatee shot a spell my way. The carpet singed less than a foot from my face and my eyes widened as I imagined what would’ve happened if it had hit me and not the floor. I tried to put the thought out of my mind. Scars so weren’t a good look for me.
I took cover under our glass coffee table just as one of the guys ran across the room and leaped into the air. I was terrified that he would hit his mark, but I stayed still for just a few seconds longer. My heart was racing and everything in me screamed to move, but I forced myself to stay put.
Finally, just before my attacker’s heavy black boots went crashing through the glass above me, I shot out of the way, missing the fatal blow by milliseconds. Shards of glass sprinkled down like crystal rain, but I didn’t stop to shield myself. Instead, I thrust my leg up and kicked the guy as hard as I could in the side of the head as he leaned down to take a second try at me. With nowhere to go since he was stuck in the frame of the coffee table, the guy fell over the side and landed with a thud. When he didn’t get back up, I assumed the layer of glass on the floor had slowed him down.
With one guy down and two closing in, I turned back to Asher, who was lying facedown a few feet away. “Asher! Wake up!” I yelled at him. I didn’t know what I would do if he didn’t answer. I needed him to get up. Even if it was just so he could get out of there intact.
But he wasn’t moving. I was about to screech at him again when I felt a shot of magic hit my lower back and make its way up my spine, exploding in mind-crushing pain seconds later. Without thinking, I spun around to look my attacker in the eyes. When another girl around my age looked back at me, I blinked with surprise.
“I heard you think you’re something special,” she sneered. Her hair was as blond as mine was black, but darkness clouded her features. She was pretty, though. If she’d gone to my school, she probably would’ve been competition.
“Funny, I haven’t heard anything about you,” I said, placing my perfectly manicured hands on my hips and popping my hip out like I was posing for a picture.
This seemed to piss her off and she started to advance on me slowly. I knew I should put my hands up to protect my face in case she lashed out, but I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of thinking she had me worried. I’d sparred enough with my dad to know that I was ready for whatever she threw my way.
I waited to see whether she was going to come at me with a spell or with her fists, bending my legs slightly so I was ready for either. When she was within striking distance, she raised her fist and I knew we were settling this civilian-style.
No magic it is.
Her knuckles made contact with my hands as I blocked each hit she threw my way. The girl was putting so much energy into each blow, I knew it wouldn’t be long before she tired herself out. So I stayed on the defensive and allowed her to go crazy. As soon as I saw her chest heaving, I waged my own attack.
I struck fast and hard, but the difference was, I knew where to hit her so she’d end up on the ground. Three strikes and she was out, lying on the floor next to her partner in crime, unconscious but not dead.
“Guess I am that good,” I said, looking down at her.
Two more roundhouse kicks and I’d taken out a few more guys as they came into the room to join their fallen friends. One managed to get a blow or two in himself, but my adrenaline was running so high I didn’t even feel it. They came at me one after another through the kitchen door and I alternated between hand-to-hand combat and spells, doing whatever I could to keep up with them. Just as I threw a woman back over the couch with a tossing spell, I looked over my right shoulder and saw that still more were appearing.
“Oh, come on!” I screamed. “How many of you are there? You know one against a thousand isn’t exactly fair.”
“What the hell’s happening?”
I looked back to see that Asher was awake now and thoroughly confused by what he was seeing in the living room. And why wouldn’t he be? He’d been knocked unconscious and woken up to people shooting sparks from their fingers and tearing up my formerly quiet house. There were nearly a dozen bodies on the floor around him and though there seemed to be a lull in the rush of bad guys, I knew it wasn’t over.
Asher’s eyes grew wide and he tried to get up but couldn’t seem to make it. Apparently the hit he’d taken was still affecting his lower extremities.
“What’s going on, Hadley?” he asked, looking straight at me now.
What was I supposed to say that wouldn’t have him running for the door or get us both killed? I could hear more footsteps hitting the floor of the kitchen and there was no way to explain what was going on while defending us both. I had to think fast to come up with an excuse that wouldn’t leave Asher asking too many questions.
“Angry magicians,” I said, before turning around just in time to dodge a punch from a young guy who was screaming something indiscernible at me, and then threw one of my own. He stopped talking as his nose exploded in blood, and I screamed out in pain. Hitting him felt a lot like punching a brick wall.
“What can I do?” Asher asked, trying again to stand up. This time he succeeded.
“Nothing,” I said, magically sending a pair of chairs and the nearly destroyed coffee table flying at the open kitchen doorway to try to block anyone else from coming in. I held my focus on the spell and watched as people began to pile up against the barrier.
“This is insane. Are you . . . Hadley, are you in a gang?” There was hesitation and the slightest sound of fear in his voice. Oh, great. The guy I liked, or thought I liked, was scared of me. Guys didn’t want to date girls they were scared of. Unless that was their thing, I guess, but as far as I knew, Asher wasn’t that guy. As all of this ran through my head, I watched Asher look from me to the door and back again, like he was just now realizing that the furniture couldn’t be holding up itself.
I had to get him out of here before he started asking more questions and got himself killed in the process.
“I am definitely not in a gang,” I said, trying to split my concentration between the spell and Asher. The spell was getting weaker and so was I. We’d been fighting for close to ten minutes already and I was beginning to run low on energy. Whoever was on the other side of my barricade was throwing their own magic at the problem and so it was becoming a major struggle of wits and spells. I had a feeling I was stronger than them, but I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d be able to keep it up. “Asher, get out of here. Go get help.”
He didn’t respond and I began to think—well, really, hope—that he was already gone. But then I felt him come up behind me and touch me softly on the shoulder. “I’m not going to leave you here alone.”
He still liked me! I just about melted hearing him say that, but knew that I couldn’t let my guard down—otherwise we were both going to be in a lot of trouble. No, he had to leave so I could take care of this myself. No one else I cared about was going to end up in the hospital again. And as gallant as he was, Asher couldn’t help me.
“Do you trust me?” I asked him.
He paused. “I do.”
That was all I needed to hear. Facing him, I fell into his arms and kissed him long and hard. There was a fever to our connection, the kind of heat that’s ignited when you think it might be your last kiss. Something weird happened when we kissed this time, though. I began to feel the magic I was still directing toward the barricade at the door grow stronger, and it became less difficult to hold in place. In fact, it almost felt easy. Like I’d just gotten a power boost.
Whoa, talk about creating sparks.
I reluctantly pulled myself away but noticed that I was still all tingly from our kiss. I’d never felt this alive before. And if I was going to get us out, it was going to have to be while I was still feeling strong.
To do that, I really needed Asher to leave.
I looked at Asher and put as much conviction into my words as I could. “Go. Get. Help,” I pleaded. I felt a little bad about using my powers on the guy I liked, but this wasn’t the time to be worrying about ethics. It was time to stay alive. “Now!”
He opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out. Instead, he just nodded and began to step away. But something in his eyes told me he was trying to fight it. In the end, my powers won out and I watched him grip the doorknob tightly before walking out the door.
As soon as he was gone, my abilities took a nosedive and my body began to shake with exertion. It was like the natural boost I’d gotten from our kiss had left with Asher and I suddenly didn’t have the same will to fight that I’d had before. The feeling of his lips on mine started to fade and instead, all I felt was fatigue.
This was bad. I’d never felt so depleted of my powers in my whole life. The Parrishables seemed to be growing stronger now and the force of their magic was pushing me backward. My feet slid across the floor until I hit the couch and fell back over the arm and onto the cushions.
And then they were making their way through the door, coming at me faster than I could’ve thought possible, only now I couldn’t seem to move. I’d run out of juice, and holding them back while Asher escaped would be the last thing I did.
At least I hadn’t let everyone down.
Just then, there was a huge crash, but with all the noise going on around me, I couldn’t tell which direction it came from. And being that I still felt paralyzed, I couldn’t move my head to see what was going on.
Please don’t be back, Asher.
“Leave her alone, you crazy magicians!” Asher yelled out. He sounded far away and my heart leapt when I realized he was shouting from his place just outside my front door. My persuasion had succeeded in making him leave, but I hadn’t been clear enough apparently. If I could just make him go farther away, I could finally let go. I was so tired.
“Asher, go home!” I tried to say it out loud, but I could no longer speak. I couldn’t cry, either, although I wanted to. Without me to defend him, Asher wouldn’t stand a chance.
“What the hell is he talking about?” I could hear someone else talking now—and they were much closer to where I was lying. They were in the same room as me, for sure.
“No clue. Magicians? Is that the new slang term for witches? Are we magicians now?” another person asked.
“Guys, cut the chitchat and help Hadley!” This voice I recognized. But it was still highly possible that I was hallucinating, so I tried not to get my hopes up. Instead, I focused on the noises around me. It was clear the fight was not over, but for some reason, none of the flying spells were hitting me.
Time ticked by excruciatingly slowly until suddenly Sascha was at my side, leaning over me and hurling spells at people as they advanced on us. I tried to smile at her to show her how happy I was to see her, but I’m not sure my mouth moved. I wanted to tell her how much I’d missed her.
All of them.
As my eyes adjusted to focus on the beautiful face of my friend and savior, she was suddenly yanked away from me. As she struggled in and out of my sight line, I was able to make out a guy standing behind her holding her in a headlock. She scratched at his wrists and forearms and strangled sounds escaped her lips. Then, just as quickly as he’d come up behind her, he disappeared and Sascha was gasping for air.
“Is she okay?”
Emory.
When I knew it was her, a wave of calm washed over me. There was something about knowing she was there that made me feel closer to my mom. And right now, I was scared about what was going to happen next. It was times like these when I just really needed my mom. And now that she was gone, Emory was the closest thing I had to that comfort.
“I’m not sure. She looks fine, but something’s going on with her,” Sascha said, leaning back over me as something exploded overhead and debris rained down around us.
“Leave her alone!” Asher was still yelling at everyone. He had no idea that those who’d just come in were members of my coven.
“We’re not trying to hurt her,” another person said. “We’re here to help her.”
Sascha started moving in and out of my line of vision and I could hear her throwing spells in the direction of our enemies. The explosions drowned out most of my thoughts except for one. I didn’t want them thinking that Asher was one of them and hurt him by mistake.
I opened my mouth to tell them as much, but nothing came out. Another wave of exhaustion washed over me and my eyelids started to flutter closed. After that, I had to rely on my hearing to find out what was going on around me.
Was this it? Was this what dying felt like? If it was, I didn’t get what everyone was so scared of. I mostly felt like I was about to drift off to sleep. And I was so tired, I almost welcomed it. Not that I wanted to die or anything, but I wouldn’t have minded the chance to rest. The shouting was still going on around me. Things were breaking and I felt something wet hit my cheek.
As I began to float away, someone took my hand. And then the oddest thing happened. My hand began to grow warm, like I was holding a heating blanket. After a few seconds, the warmth became a tingling that spread from my hand up my arm and to my neck. By the time I felt it on my face and around my head, I realized what was happening.
Someone was giving me a jump start.
My energy started to come back little by little. The power I was feeling traveled down my body and into my legs, my muscles twitching with—I wasn’t exactly sure what. Excitement? Energy? Whatever it was, I wasn’t sleepy anymore. In fact, I was feeling totally rejuvenated.
My eyes sprang open and I sat straight up on the couch, scaring Emory and making her jump about three feet away. I was still holding Sascha’s hand and looked down at our entwined fingers and then up at her.
I had no idea what she’d done, but I was incredibly grateful. As I tried to tell her this, her hand slid from mine and she hunched over, placing her hand up to her forehead. I took a moment to study her face and saw that she was pale and looked a little sick. At first I worried that she’d been hit by a stray spell, but I quickly realized it was something else.
“What just happened?” I asked. “Are you okay, Sascha?”
“Yeah. I’m just . . . light-headed. It happens sometimes when I do this,” she answered quietly, still staring at the ground.
“What did you do?” I asked.
A body sailed over our heads and crashed into the entertainment center in the corner of the room. Sparks flew and shorted out a nearby lamp. Still, given the magic that was being cast around the place, there was plenty of light.
“Let’s talk about this later,” she said quietly. I was just now noticing how loud and chaotic it was in the house and tried to shield her from things that were flying around us. “You need to help the others.”
She was right. I didn’t want to leave her there, especially when she was looking so frail, but the others seemed to need my help. There might have been more of us at the moment, but the Parrishables had more experience with fighting dirty. And they were pulling out all the stops.
“Hadley! You’re okay!”
Oh, God. Asher.
I swung around to see him inside the house again, being held back by Fallon, Peter, and a girl named June. My persuasion must have faded when I’d almost passed out before, allowing Asher the free will to do what he wanted. Now he was trying to escape, but they had a tight grip on all his limbs. If he hadn’t looked so worried, I would have commended them on a job well done.
“Let him go, guys. It’s cool,” I shouted, putting as much influence into it as I could. “He’s on our side.”
Those seemed to be the magic words, because as soon as I spoke, they let go and Asher stumbled forward. He was by my side within seconds and right there, with everyone watching, he pulled me into a hug. I clung to him, just happy to be back in his arms.
Over Asher’s shoulder, I could see Emory rush toward the door where more of the Parrishables were coming in. With a cry befitting a battle, she disappeared into the kitchen. I moved to go after her, afraid of her being back there alone, but Asher held me tighter.
“I know you’re strong and fully capable of kicking anyone’s ass and I totally believe that you can take care of yourself. I even respect you for taking charge in messed-up situations,” he said, a little bit breathless from the struggle. “But don’t you ever tell me to leave you behind again. You know I’ll say yes to just about anything you ask, because, well, I like you, but when I thought you might be hurt back there . . . So from here on out, we’re in this together. You’re stuck with me, so you better get used to it. And don’t even try to talk me out of it, because I’m the one making this decision.”
I fought the smile that was threatening to break out. He’d just admitted he liked me. Sure, it was under the guise of telling me what to do, but in this case, I thought it was kind of sweet. Because, did I mention that he liked me?
I moved in to kiss him again, but something flew through the door and landed on an armchair in the corner with a thud. It was Emory, back from the kitchen, hurt but still alive. Thank God. She began to yell something at me, but before she could, a pillow raised up from its place on the floor and pressed itself up against the redhead’s face. Emory began to struggle against the invisible force, but it was too much for her. After a few moments, she went still.
“No!” I shouted and started off in her direction.
But before I could make it even a few steps, I was being pulled backward like a rubber band snapping into place and was thrown against the ceiling like a fly caught on sticky paper. I fought to move my head, my arms, even my fingers, but something held me there. As I stared down at the battle that was going on beneath me, I could see that there were about a dozen people packed into our tiny living room going head to head, fighting for their lives.
And then I caught sight of my adversary, the reason I was currently pinned to the ceiling.
He was dressed in black pants, a matching shirt, and a floor-length, worn-looking brown leather jacket. It was old, but not in the distressed kind of way that you’d find in a trendy store. It looked more like it had been lived in.
Moving up to his face, I wasn’t surprised to see the blackness of his eyes. We’d learned early on in magic class that when witches practiced dark spells, the caster’s soul turned dark as well. And since the eyes were the window to the soul . . . well, you get the idea. Only the darkest witches’ eyes ever turned black, and now that they were staring back at me, the effect was chilling.
A shiver ran down my body. Still frozen in place, I could do nothing to stop it. I was powerless.
He gave me a crooked smile as if he were reading my mind. But he couldn’t . . . could he? I knew it was something my mother could do, but I’d always thought it was because the gift ran in families. The thought that a stranger—someone who wanted me dead no less—could know what I was thinking was beyond upsetting. I felt violated. But as soon as I realized what he was doing, I built up the wall in my mind to at least try to block him out. Given the fact that I couldn’t move my body, it was all I could seem to do to fight against him.
In response, the man chuckled and winked at me.
“Well, you’re certainly not a disappointment, are you?” he said. And then with a flick of his wrist, he lifted his spell and left me to drop to the floor below.