Shattered (the Spellbound Series Book 2) (12 page)

              When I don’t answer, Alyssa just shrugs again, and says, “I have to go. I’m meeting Lily for lunch in Union Square. I’ll see you around.” Then she turns and vanishes, leaving me on an emptying train platform staring wistfully into thin air.

12

Telling Jenna and Rachel about my predicament turns out to be even more stressful than telling Nick. They’re two of my best friends, but I can’t shake the fear that they’ll judge me too harshly, or refuse to help me find a clinic and attend the appointment. There are so many things I’m brave enough to tackle on my own, but I don’t feel prepared for this.

I call Rachel first, since I’m sure she’ll actually be free, and naturally, she freaks out when I break the news. “Is this a fluke,” she asks, “or were you being stupid?”

              “What do you mean?”

              Rachel clears her throat, and asks, “Were you two being safe?”

              “He was a vampire, and they’re naturally infertile. I figured that was all the protection we’d need.”

              “Wait…
was
a vampire?”

              Oh… It completely slipped my mind that I never told Rachel about any of what’s been going on with Nick and I. I could have tried to explain the last time I saw her, but not in front of Jenna, who doesn’t even know the supernatural world exists. I want to explain, but there are more pressing matters at hand, so I tell her, “It’s a long story.”

              Jenna’s reaction is far less appropriate, which is to say, it’s a typical Jenna reaction. When I finally do get a hold of her, she lets out a low whistle, and says, “I thought for sure Rachel would be the first of us to get knocked up. Go you!”

              I immediately regret my decision to tell her.

              In spite of her less-than-serious initial reaction, Jenna agrees to aid in the hunt for a suitable clinic, and even promises to clear her schedule for a day that works best for the three of us. A week later, Jenna, Rachel, and I walk solemnly into the lobby of a squat brown building on the Upper East Side, the second floor of which is occupied by a
Family Planning Center
. Even Jenna doesn’t have a single witty thing to say; we’re all intimidated by this place, and by the knowledge that each of us might have our turn here for one reason or another.

              Even the woman at the second floor’s front desk is somewhat intimidating, heavily tattooed as she is, but she smiles brightly at us as I sign in. She hands me a clipboard with a questionnaire clipped to it, and instructs me to fill it out to the best of my ability, using only honest answers. I sigh, and take a seat between Jenna and Rachel. I despise filling out forms, especially when the first question is
How long have you been sexually active?
I groan, and start with the second question, the sound of my pen strokes drowned out by the other patients flipping magazine pages, filing their nails, or engaging in conversation.

              Somewhere near the bottom of the questionnaire, I lose focus enough to realize that Jenna and Rachel are talking over me. I take a break from writing in time to hear Rachel ask, “Have you always known you were into girls, or is this a recent thing you’ve realized?”

              Jenna laughs, and replies, “I’m straight, for the last time. I just don’t have time for dating anymore. And even if I did, it wouldn’t be smart to get too close to anyone new.”

              “Why not? Heather and Nick have been going strong for a long time, and I can handle Chase just fine with my busy schedule, so-“

              “Just drop it, alright?” Jenna picks up a magazine called
Motherhood
and pretends to leaf through it. “I don’t see why it matters to you, anyway. It’s my life.”

              Rachel crosses her arms, and says, “I’m just trying to unravel the mystery that is Jenna Chen’s love life, that’s all.”

              “Well, I’m happy with my love life exactly as it is: nonexistent.”

              “Are you sure you’re into guys? Because I’m pretty sure we could hook you up with Alyssa-“

              “Don’t be stupid, she’s dating someone. And besides, she’d never take me over Heather.”

              “Who is sitting right here,” I remind them. “Can we talk about something else, please?”

              “You mean like the fact that we’re suddenly alone?,” Jenna asks.

              I look up from my nearly completed form to see that she’s right; everyone else in the room has vanished, save for the receptionist. Out of curiosity, I walk over and ask her, “Where’d everyone go? Do you need us to leave the waiting room or something?”

              The woman smiles at me again, and says, “No, that won’t be necessary. We need you right where you are.” She waves her palm lazily, and suddenly, I’m slammed against the back wall of the clinic, the wind knocked out of me by the impact. I take another look at her, and realize the tattoos on her right arm don’t match the ones on her left, which look much more familiar. I should have picked up on it earlier; this woman’s a spellcaster.

              She snaps her fingers, and takes her flowing brown hair out of its bun as other spellcasters, all dressed in black, begin to materialize around her. “I thought it was just going to be another boring day on the job,” she says, “but when the Conduit walked in… well, let’s just say my obligation to the Lost matters a lot more.”

              A shot rings the air, and the receptionist clutches her shoulder as blood rapidly stains her white shirt. Everyone in the room looks around for the shooter, and I’m the first one to spot Jenna, with a pistol in her hand and a cold expression I’ve never seen her wear before. I’m not even sure where she pulled the gun from; she’s wearing denim shorts and a faded orange tank top, not exactly the best attire for stashing a weapon. In an authoritative voice, she commands, “Leave my friend alone.”

              I have so many questions, but they’ll have to wait. The receptionist smiles a little, and draws her blood soaked hand away from her shirt as the wound starts closing. “Bad move, kid.” She snaps her fingers again, and the Lost start closing in on us. There are more of them than in Central Park, more than I care to count, but it doesn’t matter. I have to protect my friends.

              As it turns out, I might not need to worry about them as much as I assumed I would. Jenna’s pistol goes off again and again, and the bullets usually disintegrate against shields put up by the spellcasters in their path, but occasionally they slip through their defenses. Rachel isn’t nearly as helpless as she seems in her human form either; the first thing she does is lift one of the wooden tables stacked with magazines clear off the ground, and throw it across the waiting room at one of the spellcasters approaching her. It looks like they’ll be fine without my help for the time being.

              A massive spellcaster materializes to my left, and takes a swing at me. I use a spell that should have knocked him backward, but his fist still connects with my jaw. I’ve never taken a hit from someone this strong before; my legs give out, and my body twists as it falls to the ground, and even in the midst of colliding with the tile, I can’t figure out what just happened. Usually, that spell serves me well enough in a fight. It dawns on me that he and the rest of his clan must be warded against my usual spells. My last few encounters with the Lost must have been to study my attack patterns.

              The huge guy that just knocked me down steps towards me to finish the job, and I quickly go over a list of spells in my mind, searching for one that they wouldn’t expect me to use. I decide to take a leaf out of Rachel’s book, and fling a chair at my most immediate threat. Just before he brings his foot down on my face, the wooden chair collides with the back of my attacker’s head, and he stumbles forward. Before he regains his balance, I pull in my leg and kick at his throat, satisfied by the surprised gurgle he lets out as he crumples to the ground beside me.

              I’m back on my feet in a flash, looking for the next spellcaster coming to take me on. There are a few closing in on me, but I notice that across the room, Rachel is slowly being surrounded. I teleport to her side, and slowly, we start working on the crowd gathering around her. I watch my friend carefully, and am taken by surprise when I see up close how strong she is. Rachel is on the leaner side, with nowhere near as much muscle as Jenna, but nevertheless, her tiny fist caves in the chest of the spellcaster she strikes with a sickening crunch. She lifts the woman easily and throws her into a throng of her peers, knocking them all off their feet. Over the din of shouts and gunfire, I ask, “How are you doing that?”

              Rachel grins at me, and shouts back, “Werewolf thing. We can borrow the strength of the wolf even in our human forms. I just got the hang of this a few weeks ago.”

              A tattooed man holding a shimmering blade of energy pushes his way towards us, and as he lifts his arm to strike, his movements and the movements of those around him seem to slow to a crawl. I step in closer and grab his wrist mid-swing, squeezing until he drops his weapon. The blade vanishes into the hilt as it falls to the ground, nearly out of reach. I twist my torso and catch the hilt just before it hits the ground, channeling my own energy through it so that a blade matching my pale blue aura springs into being. I swing, and slice through my opponent’s neck easily. The blade isn’t made of anything tangible, so it doesn’t cause any damage to him physically, but he crumples to the ground writhing in pain all the same.

              Rachel eyes me warily, and asks, “Since when can you move that fast?”

              I shrug. “Nick bit me, now he’s human, and it turns out I never was. Now everything’s super weird.”
              Rachel just shakes her head at me. “Never a dull moment with you, Heather.”

              I may know how to power the blade in my hands, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve never used a sword in my life. I’m mostly just slashing wildly at anyone wearing black, and only occasionally hitting who I mean to. It isn’t until the blade nearly passes through Rachel that it’s wrenched from my grasp. Jenna’s fingers close around the hilt, and she mutters, “They should really stop handing these things out to just anyone,” as the blade’s color changes from blue to a deep, earthy green. She rushes towards the last few members of the Lost, and dispatches them one by one. Her hand brings the blade down expertly, almost lazily, on her opponents, while her free hand fires at the one man trying to cast a spell at her from across the room. Soon Jenna, Rachel, and I are the only ones left standing.

              Nobody speaks for a moment, the only sound in the room the deep panting of my friends and I, mingled with the soft groans of all the wounded on the ground. Before any of us can make a comment, the one person we’d all forgotten about reappears. The receptionist straightens up from her spot crouching behind her desk. Her skin seems to be almost vibrating, somehow, and shining with an odd light. As we watch, cracks start spreading across the surface of her skin, pale violet light pouring out of her where her skin breaks apart, and my eyes widen in shock.

              Right before my eyes, I’m seeing the effects of a spell Krystal has only told me about; she refuses to teach me the method in great detail. From what I can guess, the user brings every ounce of their energy to the surface, and lets it build until the user’s body explodes from the pressure. The spell is a last resort; the spellcaster never survives the aftermath of the explosion.

A triumphant grin spreads across the woman’s face when she sees I’ve caught on to her plan. She steps out from behind the desk to stand in full view. “All of you stand down,” she demands. “Either the Conduit surrenders and comes with me, or I’ll take you three down with me.”

Rachel doesn’t react, but Jenna narrows her eyes at me. Clearly, the word Conduit means
something
to her, but since she’s not a spellcaster, I can’t imagine how she would know anything on the subject. I gesture for her to come closer subtly enough that the receptionist doesn’t see. Jenna inches toward where Rachel and I stand, while I ask the receptionist, “Why are you willing to sacrifice yourself for the Lost? Have they brainwashed you, or do all of you just really want me dead that badly?”

Surprisingly, that gets a laugh out of the glowing woman before us. “You’ll learn nothing from any of us. We’re sworn to secrecy on the matter.”

“Then no deal. I won’t be coming quietly.”

“Suit yourself.” The light shining from the cracks in the woman’s skin intensifies, as do the cracks spreading across her body. She cries out in pain as she begins to truly splinter apart. I put a shield spell around her just a split second before she explodes outward, her energy’s intense violet glow straining against the sphere of my own energy containing the blast. Apparently, this woman was stronger than I thought; my spell starts to crack from the internal pressure, so I put more effort into making sure it holds. Almost as quickly as it started, the explosion dies down, and I let the shield spell fade away. There’s nothing left of the woman but a black mark on the ground; her entire being must have been obliterated.

I breathe a sigh of relief, and turn back to my friends, only to find Jenna holding a pistol to Rachel’s face. She twists to face me, lifts a second gun to my forehead, and says, “You two have a LOT of explaining to do.”

13

              “Start talking!,” Jenna barks at me. “What are you?”

              “I’m a Spellcaster,” I mutter. “Nephilim, if you want to get technical, with just a dash of vampire.”

              Jenna then directs her attention to Rachel, who stammers, “I’m a werewolf! Holy shit, don’t shoot me!”