Bloodspell (6 page)

SHE SHOULD HAVE said no. But if she was really being honest with herself, she had wanted to say yes. When they touched, she'd been shocked by the connection between them. Victoria had known there was something there—she'd felt that spark from the moment they had first met that day in the Admissions Office.

Yet, despite the fact that Christian Devereux was so charismatic and made her heart race, something felt wrong. When he looked at her with those eerie light eyes of his, she felt rattled and on edge. Not to mention what she'd done to him just by thinking about it. Her throat tightened at the memory. Her palms tingled and she felt a familiar heaviness stir in the pit of the belly, the same sensations she'd fought months ago, the ones she'd thought were dead and gone.

Embrace it.

Victoria almost jumped out of her skin as the phantom thought invaded her head. Exhaustion was making her remember things that she'd prefer remain ancient history. She shook it off and sighed, leaning back against the sofa and watching Leto lying on the top edge of the cushions. She stroked his ears as he watched her intently out of one eye, and resorted to her familiar means of making sense of her feelings.

"I don't know why I said yes," she murmured to him. "He's arrogant, and rude, and irritating." She sighed, a soft smile on her lips turning onto her side to face Leto. "But you should hear him on the piano, he's amazing. Reminded me of New York." Leto curled his head into her palm. "Mom would have loved hearing him." Her words slowed. "Maybe that's why I said yes. Anyone who plays like that can't be all bad, right?"

Victoria stared out the window behind the sofa and curled her legs beneath her, her fingers still lingering in Leto's fur. She wrestled with her thoughts.

"But that's not the whole reason. I don't know how but"—she hesitated again, a shiver passing through her—"it happened again. And it's just strange that he didn't react like I thought he would ... like the others."

Leto's head turned toward her and for a second, she felt a strange sensation as if he'd heard her. She could feel a sense of concern that wasn't her own. She frowned dismissing it, and continued her monologue.

"I mean, he's not stupid. It's unnatural to be able to move whole
people
around without touching them." She studied her hands as if they held the answer, frowning. "It was like invisible hands just reached out of my chest and shoved him backward."

This time there was no mistaking the response. Leto stared at her so hard that every hair on the back of her neck stood at nervous attention.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" she blurted without thinking.

Leto growled, holding her gaze disconcertingly, once again compelling her to grasp at something that was just beyond her reach. Given the last few months, she shouldn't have been surprised by anything, and after the existentialist episode with Christian, it didn't seem that farfetched to have an animal stare at her as if he understood her every word.
She
could
do
things, unnatural things. A cognitive cat was hardly a stretch.

Victoria bit her lips as a rush of unexpected hysteria filled her, brought on by Leto's stare. She glared at him.

"If you have something to say, just say it already," she snapped.

Her anger faded as abruptly as it had appeared and without waiting for the response that couldn't possibly come, she slumped back on the couch bursting into laughter at her own absurdity. What was she thinking?

Embrace it.

She almost fell off the sofa. That time, the voice had not been a figment of her imagination—it'd been real. But there was no one else in the apartment apart from Leto. She looked at him warily.

"You're imagining things again, Tori," Victoria muttered, closing her eyes.

You know what you are.
You've known all along.
Embrace it.

She sealed her lips shut against the hysterical panic bubbling behind them. She'd fallen down the rabbit hole into a crazy world where she could topple people over just by thinking about it and where animals could talk. She could feel Leto's glower as if in response to the tune of her thoughts, and she opened her eyes.

He flattened his ears and hissed, staring directly at her. But that was
impossible
! Cats didn't understand people and they certainly couldn't talk back, unless ... he was like her, something else ... something not entirely natural, not of this world.

"I don't know what you want me to do," she whispered, feeling like a lunatic.

The music box.

The music box? It was a rhetorical question, and in that instant, somehow she understood immediately that the music box held all the answers; it always had.

Victoria rummaged through the cardboard box marked "junk" and found it. It felt the same as it had the first time she'd held it, warm and welcoming. Hers. She removed the amulet from the box, mesmerized by its light. It was undeniably beautiful.

And undeniably terrifying.

Victoria shook her head. "I can't," she said, her hand trembling.

To embrace who you are,
you must.

The words were simple but powerful. Victoria understood that she had to know who or what she was even if it meant "embracing" the mad energy that she'd tried to bury inside her. Not knowing was far worse than knowing. She couldn't risk what had happened with Brett ever happening again, or repeating what she'd done with Christian without understanding her strange power. The voice was right—she needed to embrace who she was, but even more, she needed to learn to control this thing inside of her.

Pulling herself together, she took a deep breath and focused inward, finding the sphere of energy, the strange force that she'd used against Christian. Her grandmother's words echoed in her head as she clicked the clasp into place around her neck. "Don't fear it. You are a Warrick."

Victoria closed her eyes, imagining that she was pulling the energy toward her heart near where the amulet rested. To her disbelief, she sensed it follow her bidding. It felt like she had been doing it all her life. The energy responded fluidly, pliant and receptive to her every thought. It was astonishing, and humbling. Victoria breathed out carefully, knowing what she had to do.

With a long indrawn breath, she pulled it into her center and felt it fill every cell in her body. She'd never felt so tall, so full, so
whole.
She feared that she would burst with it until her breath rushed past her lips and the energy rippled inward, resonating into blood and bone and tissue.

She opened her eyes.

The diamond burned the color of blood.

Leto's eyes glittered.

Yes.

"I don't know how to—" Victoria faltered for a moment.

You've talked to me your whole life.

She stared at him. "I didn't exactly ... expect a response."

Open yourself.
Your power is an extension of you.
Push outward,
and imagine your mind connecting with mine.

She hesitated, but Leto's eyes compelled her to finish what she had started. Tentatively, Victoria envisioned her mind as a ball of energy and imagined a silver thread linking her mind to his.

Leto ...

Victoria.

Curious, she slid alongside his consciousness, exploring it gently. Although he felt catlike, warm and comforting and like family, he didn't quite feel like a cat. She sensed great intelligence, sensitivity, and even humor. In a way, he reminded her of her English teacher in second grade, a twinkly-eyed but bar-no-nonsense kind of person. As an onslaught of memories flooded her mind, she felt Leto cringe and block her out completely.

Shape your thoughts,
Leto thought to her.
Then give them form with words.
Guard your mind always,
even against me.

Mindful of not hurling a barrage of thoughts and feelings his way, Victoria formed her mental words carefully, releasing them one by one. It felt strange, enunciating each thought as if she were learning to speak a foreign language.

How do I do that? Guard, I mean.

Imagine an impenetrable wall around you, encasing your entire mind. Good. Do you feel me pushing against you? That wall you just imagined is real.

Victoria frowned.
It feels like I have a headache.

Over time it will become effortless.
She met Leto's green eyes.

Was the voice always you?

Yes.

So does this mean I am telepathic?

You are so much more,
Victoria.
Surely you know that.
Leto's look spoke volumes. She considered his words.

I ...
made those things happen by thinking about them, like Brett ... and Chri ... the boy from today. It felt different earlier though.

She thought about Brett and remembered how the energy had raced along her veins, rampant. Wild. She'd cowered from it then, running away from it and burying it so deeply that it was no wonder she'd been caught off guard by its reemergence.

Yes, the energy felt different. Now it was responsive, less raw. With Brett, she had reacted to a threat and her unconscious reaction had been explosive, uncontrolled. It had terrified her. But now, the energy felt compliant—she was directing its flow, projecting it with purpose and shaping its response. Even with Christian earlier, her action had been more deliberate. She was controlling it instead of it controlling her. Victoria could feel Leto's approval.

Why couldn't I control it then?

Perhaps you were not yet ready.

And I am now?

Only you know the answer to that question.
She eyed him curiously.

So what are you?

I'm ... your friend.
Leto settled back onto his haunches, his brilliant green eyes twinkled.
Technically, a familiar,
he clarified.

Victoria swallowed. A flicker of
Sabrina, the Teenage Witch
flashed through her head.
Like Salem in Sabrina
?
She thought the words aloud before she could think twice.

His immediate disdain was eloquent.
Victoria,
that is a television show.
But yes,
if you must make the comparison,
although this form is just a shape,
a vessel.

Her mouth hung open. If he was a familiar, then that would make her ...

And ... me? Am I ... a ... witch?
She almost choked on the last word, feeling stranger with each passing second. She could swear that Leto was laughing at her. His thoughts felt distinctly amused.

You already know the answer to that,
Victoria.
Of course you are,
he said.
Although not in the way you're thinking.
You don't use a wand or fly on a broom.
Victoria's face fell. The amused sensation she'd felt earlier from Leto returned. He
was
laughing at her!
But your mind can command energy,
you will foresee events,
and you can heal yourself.

Wait. Heal myself?

Yes.
If you are hurt,
you can call upon your energy to heal yourself,
and others too if you will it.
However,
for most it is finite.
At her questioning look, Leto explained.
There's only so much magical energy one can wield at any given time,
but there are ways around these limits.

"What else can I do?" she asked, her normal voice hoarse.

As you have already discovered,
you are capable of enhanced strength and you can cure yourself and others at will,
but you can also unleash powerful energy blasts.
You can teleport,
exert powerful levels of telekinesis and telepathy,
and you can invoke powerful spells.

Leto stopped as Victoria's mouth formed a small "o" of astonishment. Even as her brain incorporated what he was saying, she was stunned. She was a
witch
! How was that even possible? Her family had been normal. Hadn't they?

My grandmother was a witch.
The ponderous thought was not a question.

Yes,
Leto agreed,
but not like you.
His tone was enigmatic and he had an expectant expression on his face. It made Victoria feel peculiar, tingly again.

And my father? Did he know about me? Was he like ... us?

Your father was human.
Sometimes the magic skips a generation.
It happens with mixed witch and human bloodlines.

But it didn't skip me?

No.
Leto's eyes were intense.

Doesn't that make me half-witch, >half-normal then?

No.
You are a Warrick witch.
Magic remains undiluted from generation to generation.
You are as powerful as the very first.

The amulet and her grandmother's words flashed through her memory, "Embrace it. Don't fear it." She grasped the amulet, feeling its familiar warmth in her palm.

Why did the diamond turn red?

Leto paused, seeming to search for words.
It is a part of the amulet's magic but it only reveals its full power when a true descendant of Warrick claims it.
The answers you seek are in there.
His glance indicated the open music box, but Victoria wasn't quite finished. She hesitated. There was one more question she needed to ask, one that had haunted her for years.

Leto,
is this why I can't ... die?

The magic protected you when you needed protecting.

Memories assaulted her: surviving the mangled wreckage of her parents' car crash, falling thirty feet from a tree when she was ten without any broken bones, narrowly escaping a skiing accident without so much as a scratch ... there were suddenly too many "narrow escapes" to count. Other than her recent time in the hospital, she couldn't remember being sick a day in her life. The luck of the devil ...