Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things (Dead Things Series Book 1) (38 page)

66

EMBER

E
mber was starting to feel like a prisoner. Knowing Mace worked for Allister made his constant vigilance oppressive. She silently questioned everything he did. Every time she thought about kissing him, her face flushed with embarrassment. He wasn’t interested in her. He’d never been interested in her.

Her brain was wild with theories. She wondered if he was somehow controlling her magic; if maybe he was somehow the one who made her magic go out of control. Everything she thought she knew was a lie. Maybe she only thought she needed him. After all, they’d been setting her up all along. He’d said it himself. He told her not to fall for him. He said he could never love her.

The thought of his betrayal festered, her hostility increasing with every class. She sat glaring at the side of his face as he doodled on his paper, paying little to no attention to the lessons. She guessed when you were hundreds of years old you didn’t really have much left to learn about American history. She amused herself by fantasizing about the various ways she could use her new powers to torture him, only feeling a little guilty when he caught her staring and grinned at her.

Her stomach fluttered. Why did he have to be so damn attractive? It was his job, she reminded herself. That is why Allister hired him. He doesn’t care about you. Maybe if she said it repeatedly her traitorous heart would get it. When the bell rang, he grabbed her bag for lunch. She yanked it back and glowered at him.

“Somebody is in a mood.” Her lip curled, that lilting accent she’d thought so sexy just yesterday now made her want to punch him in his stupid English face. She fought the urge to mock his accent, knowing she was acting childish, even if it was in her own head.

“What has you so cross, Luv? Is it about the kiss?”

Heat crawled up her neck, turning her chest and cheeks an unattractive bright red. “Ugh, don’t remind me.”

Mace’s eyes went wide, watching her intently. She could see him trying to figure out what he could have done to make her so angry. Go ahead and wonder, she thought. She stopped at the entry to the East corridor. “I need to go find my uncle. I’ll see you at lunch.”

“Alone? Do you think that’s a good idea?” Mace asked, voice edged with what almost sounded like panic. “I’ll go with you.”

“No. Go eat lunch. I’ll see you in class.”

His face paled but he nodded. He looked queasy. Did soul eaters get sick to their stomach? She really didn’t care. She hoped he puked everywhere. She turned on her heel and made her way to the government classroom. She was ten steps into the room before she realized something was wrong. When she heard the door close behind her, panic gripped her. She turned to see Stella standing in front of her only exit.

Her magic flickered and she dug her nails into her palms. Pain was still the only thing that kept her magic in check when Mace wasn’t available. Stella looked her up and down, sneering at Ember’s clenched fists.

“Are you following me?” Ember asked.

“Yes, as a matter of fact I am.” Stella moved further into the room. Ember backed up, not willing to take her eyes off the witch.

“What is your problem?”

“You’re my problem.” She told her in a singsong voice. “Girls like you. You’re weak. You’re powers are all over the place. You have to rely on a boy to take care of you. You’re pathetic. You have an active power most witches would literally kill for and yet you turn your back on your witch side and instead choose to associate with mutts and demons.”

Ember smirked at her, heat curling in her belly as her magic began to flow. “From what Tristin tells me, you’re just mad because the mutt you were practically begging to ‘associate’ with is now happily cozied up with my cousin, Kai. Very happily,” she reiterated.

Stella’s nostrils flared and Ember’s hand flew to her own neck, squeezing. Stella smirked as Ember began to choke, the victim of her own hand. She tried to drag in a breath but she couldn’t. Her lungs seared as she tried to use her free hand to tear the other free.

Panic climbed her throat as her body fought to make use of the miniscule amounts of air in her lungs, shutting down the supply to her extremities. They weren’t supposed to use magic at school, her brain supplied unhelpfully.

“I guess nobody told you about my active power. I believe humans call it telekinesis. I prefer mind control. Neat trick, right?”

Her face felt tight and bloated, tears streamed from her eyes. Her magic surged, struggling to break the witches hold but nothing worked. Dread pulled at her like a lead weight on her chest as her vision began to go black at the edges.

She was going to die. Stella was going to kill her.

Stella flicked her fingers and Ember’s hand dropped to her side. Ember doubled over, sucking air into her abused lungs. Her pulse throbbed in her head, her own blood pounding in her ears. She swallowed hard, wincing at the pain. It felt like she’d gargled razor blades. “Why are you doing this?” she asked, throat hoarse.

“Cause I can? Because you’re the reason my best friend’s brother is dead. Because you ignore Alex when he’s so eager to do anything for you?” she shrugged. “Take your pick.”

Stella’s gaze strayed to her uncle’s new desk. “Want to have a little fun?”

Ember blinked, trying to clear away the white sparks floating before her eyes. Stella waved her finger and Ember’s hand snatched the letter opener off the desk, gripping it tight. Her eyes widened, darting from the letter opener to Stella and back again. “What are you doing?” she tried to calm the hysteria in her voice but her magic writhed, making her edgy.

“Hmm.” She tapped her nail against her lip. “I don’t know. What shall we do?” She swayed on her feet, Ember’s hand began to spin the blade. “I could have you shove that letter opener through your hand. How many nerves it would sever? Reapers don’t have advanced healing, do they? Oh, or maybe you could slit your wrists? I’d love to watch you bleed.” She wiggled her fingers, delighted with herself. “No, I know. Maybe I’ll just have you gouge out one of those pretty…purple…eyes.”

Ember’s hand moved and she had only enough time to gasp, flinching as the blade stopped barely a millimeter from her pupil. Ember felt lightheaded, like she was on a roller coaster, pulse thundering at her throat. She tried in vain to put her arm down but she was completely under the witch’s control.

Stella chuckled and again waved her hand, the letter opener clattered to the floor. “Not so mouthy now, are you?”

She paced in front of the door. “The Grove left the witches in charge for a reason. Our powers are far superior to yours. We can get to you anywhere. We can get to anyone, anywhere. Wouldn’t you rather be on a winning team instead of those losers you associate with?”

Ember assumed the question rhetorical. “You should talk to your uncle, Ember. Family is important.”

Ember clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from clattering together. The combination of adrenaline and magic made her want to use that letter opener to tear her own skin off but she wouldn’t dare give this bitch the satisfaction of thinking she’d had an effect on her. “Kai and Tristin are my family too,” she said. “And they’ve never threatened me. Did my uncle tell you to do this?”

She tsked, “Of course not. Alex wouldn’t dream of hurting you. He talks about you all the time. Ember this. Ember that. Blah, blah, blah.” She stopped to stand close enough that Ember could smell her sour breath on her face. “But I don’t recommend tattling on me or you might wind up accidentally cutting out your own tongue and wouldn’t that just be a shame?”

Ember didn’t have anything to say. She sensed the danger had passed but she still blocked her exit.

The door opened and Mace poked his head in, hair damp, face pale. He looked awful. “What’s going on in here?”

Stella’s lip curled as she turned on Mace. “Oh, it’s the demon.”

Mace sighed. “Why does everybody keep calling me that?”

Stella rolled her eyes and looked at Ember. “Remember what I said.”

The minute Stella disappeared her legs gave out beneath her. She expected to hit the floor but found herself in Mace’s arms instead. She wanted to tell him to back the hell off but instead wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his throat. Her magic found his and they both sighed. She didn’t know why Mace looked so beat up but she just couldn’t bring herself to care. Life was so much easier back when her only friends were dead people.

“What happened? What did she do to you?”

“Shh,” Ember said, her mouth finding his. “I don’t want to talk,” she mumbled against his lips.

He lifted her to sit on the desk and buried his hands in her hair tugging her back enough to look at her, concern etched across his face “Are you alright, Luv?”

“Shut up,” she said, reeling him back in, “and kiss me.”

He gave in, lips sliding over hers and she lost herself in the feel of his kiss and the scent of his magic. Her hands gripped his t-shirt uselessly.

He tore his mouth from hers “Not that I’m complaining, but I can’t help but think that maybe you are using this as a way to deflect talking about your feelings.”

She growled in frustration, allowing herself the satisfaction of biting his lower lip hard enough for him to flinch. “I’m sorry, are you my school appointed therapist? When did you start caring about my feelings?” When he looked like he might actually answer, she gripped his chin and looked him in the eye, “If you say one more word, I promise you will never kiss me again.” You’ll never kiss me again anyways, she thought silently.

His eyes roamed her face, smile tugging at his lips, “Well, when you put it that way…”

She sighed into his open mouth and let her mind go numb and float away. She just needed to forget about everything for a little while. She’d be stronger later. She would deal with Mace’s betrayal later. She would deal with Stella later.

She would deal with everything, she promised herself as Mace’s hand found its way under her shirt, just…later.

67

TRISTIN

L
unch was almost over by the time Ember and Mace made it to the table. Tristin couldn’t help but notice her hair was a mess and she was sporting an obscenely large hickey on her neck. Were they in seventh grade?

Ember dropped into the seat between Kai and Donovan, forcing Mace to sit next to Tristin. Ember’s refusal to make eye contact with anyone told Tristin she was definitely doing dirty things with the demon.

Donovan wordlessly pushed his food towards Ember who looked at him like she could kiss him.

“Where have you been?” Ember asked, looking at Donovan with suspicion.

Donovan laughed, plunging his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “I’m an omega. I need my me time. After what happened to Quinn…I just needed some space. Isa gets it.”

Ember frowned but said nothing. She loaded her plate with people’s leftovers. As she ate, she told them about her encounter with Stella. Tristin was both horrified and impressed by Astrid’s evil ploy to get Ember on team Osiris.

“What am I going to do? How do I protect myself from…myself?” Ember asked nobody in particular.

“It’s because you’re not warded.” Tristin volunteered.

All eyes swung to her.

“Warded?” Ember asked.

“Wards. Enchantments. Magical spells for protection?”

“You can ward yourself from mind control?” Ember asked, voice wary.

“Yes and no. You can protect yourself from undue influence. It’s not fool proof but it can take the edge off of compulsion.”

“What do I have to do? How does it work?”

Tristin stood and dragged her shirt up, revealing the tattoo on her hip. Donovan whistled through his teeth. Tristin ignored him. “This is a sigil, a magical symbol.”

“I know what sigils are.” Ember sighed. “They were all over my house. Guess that should have been my first clue something was up.”

Tristin shrugged. “This is to make me invincible to my enemies.”

Ember looked at her, face pinched, brow raised. “That makes you invincible?”

Tristin pulled a face at her. “It doesn’t make me bulletproof but yeah, it helps me get by. This has as much meaning as you give it. A talisman only works if you believe in it.”

“Do you all have…wards?” Ember asked.

Everybody nodded except Neoma. “I don’t. I don’t need them,” she said cryptically. Ember’s gaze slid around the table, probably hoping somebody would elaborate.

Instead, Kai tugged down his shirt to reveal the seal of Solomon he had on his chest. Donovan stood, dragging his shirt up over his stomach like a striptease to reveal two runic symbols etched into the cut of each hip, just above his jeans. He patted his belly for good measure. Ember looked at Rhys expectantly. He heaved a weary sigh and stood, turning around to pull his shirt up. Tristin watched as both her cousin and her brother gaped at the bare expanse of Rhys’ back. It wasn’t like Kai hadn’t seen them before. Inked along the ridges of his spine, were the phases of the moon. Tristin wasn’t sure if Ember was impressed with the tattoos or the back on which they’d been applied but she knew which currently held her brother’s fascination.

“Why aren’t you shirtless more often?” Kai asked Rhys. The wolf huffed in embarrassment, yanking his shirt down and shoving a fry into Kai’s grinning mouth.

“So I just find a design, go to a tattoo parlor and think happy thoughts while the guy tattoos it on my body and bam, instant talisman?” Ember sounded cynical.

“No. You go to magical tattoo shop, like the one here in Belle Haven, where shaman practiced in the art of ink magic apply specially chosen symbols imbued with spells to give them power.” Tristin explained impatiently.

“Oh.” Ember sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, chewing on it absently. Tristin watched as Mace stared. What was his deal anyway?

“What about you, Mace? You have any magical talismans?” Tristin asked, genuinely curious about whether demons felt the need to shield themselves.

Mace dragged his gaze away from Ember with a grimace. “You could say that.”

Ember perked up at that. “Where?”

“Everywhere,” Mace told her vaguely. “But I can assure you, the person who applied mine took some…artistic license.”

“Let’s see ‘em,” Tristin prompted. He glanced at the few stragglers left at the tables surrounding them. “Oh, come on. You don’t strike me as the shy type. We showed you ours; it’s only fair you show us yours.”

Tristin didn’t know why she wanted to see them so badly except maybe for his increasing level of discomfort. He should squirm. He was working for the enemy…but, to be fair, so was she.

“It’s not very appetizing.” Mace promised, making no move to show them.

They all watched him now. “I’m sure we’ll live,” Rhys said, staring down the soul eater.

Mace’s mouth turned down in an expression that said you-asked-for-this and he stood, sliding his shirt up until it sat just under his arms.

Ember gasped. Neoma’s hand flew to her mouth. Tristin just stared. Archaic symbols marred almost every available inch of flesh, not in ink, but in puckered pink scars that could have only been created by burns. Some of the symbols were shiny, as if they were the newer scars; others appeared hardened like leather as if someone had burned him repeatedly with the same symbol. The hours of suffering one would have to endure for that type of scarification was inconceivable. She thought of the druids and the symbols carved into their bodies.

Tristin shivered. Who did this to him?

Stagmatium malifica, Tristin thought to herself.

Mace smirked but there was no amusement in his eyes. Now that he had their attention, he made point of slowly turning so they could see it carried around to his back. Ember looked like she was going to be sick. Kai and Rhys both looked spooked.

“Who did that to you?” Ember whispered, fingers reaching out to touch before she caught herself and dropped her hand. Mace dropped his shirt as people at the other tables started to whisper and point.

“Not important. But Tristin is right. I can’t imagine living in this town and not having protection of some kind in place.”

Tristin stared hard at Mace. Did he know? Was he in on this? Had Astrid told Stella
and
Mace? She hated this crap.

“I’ll take her tonight,” Tristin volunteered.

“Um, you’re working.” Kai reminded her.

Crap. She’d forgotten. “Can’t you cover my shift?”

“Sure,” Kai said. She felt her stomach unknot a fraction before he said, “But who’s going to cover my shift while I’m covering yours?”

Her heart sank.

“I’ll do it,” Rhys sighed.

“But you’re already pulling a double on Saturday.” Kai reminded him.

“It’s fine. More time with you.” Rhys muttered, taking a swig from his water bottle his face in direct conflict with his words.

“Aw, Baby,” Kai crooned.

Rhys choked, sputtering “Baby?”

Kai furrowed his brow. “What? No? I was just trying it on.”

“Um, no. Definitely, no. No calling me baby.”

“Whatever you say...Baby.”

Rhys snorted, “I take it back, I’m not covering your shift.”

“Okay, okay, not baby.” Kai pouted until Rhys dipped his head and nosed at his ear, “At least not in public.” The wolf told him softly. Kai went pink to the tips of his ears, grinning to himself.

Tristin wanted to gouge out her eardrums with her plastic spork. What was wrong with these people? There was paranormal craziness happening everywhere and she was trapped in an endless episode of The Newlywed Game.

“Anyway,” Tristin said, bringing everybody back to the situation at hand. “Now we are free to go and get your ward”

“I don’t even know what I would get,” Ember told her.

“I know just the thing for you,” Tristin promised. “Besides, I have a friend who is working tonight.”

“You have a friend?” Kai asked, surprised.

She threw a cherry tomato at his head. “More friends than you.”

Tristin glanced at Ember who smiled, looking relieved. Tristin’s stomach soured. She was a horrible person. She was going to hell for this for sure. She would risk hell for Quinn.

This better work.