I looked to my mom, noticing her eyes were red and strained. A wave of guilt washed over me.
Maybe my real mom will be in Russia. Maybe that was the plan all along.
I smiled hesitantly at her. But deep down I knew I was fooling myself, hanging onto a thread of hope that the woman who raised me wasn’t just plain evil.
“What’s in Russia?” I asked looking back at Aunt Eva.
“Our whole family. Waiting for you. The police have informed us they’re about to apprehend the criminals that have harassed you your entire life.”
Yeah, the police my ass
.
“I’m taking you to Russia early as a precautionary measure, but on your birthday everyone will be there, including your mom,” she nodded at my mother across the table.
“But can’t we just stay here and all go together?” My cheeks burned. I really didn’t know where I was getting the courage to speak up to Aunt Eva all of a sudden, but I was tired of all her crap. “Besides, it wasn’t my fault those guys showed up. It’s just kinda how normal people live. You know, visiting friends and stuff?” I said, pleading my case and hoping to buy more time. “I’m almost seventeen. I should have
some
say in this,” I pressed.
Aunt Eva jumped up from the table. “We’re not normal people, Jewel. And if you’re so mature, then you should realize that. Your parents have been evading criminals to protect everyone your whole life.”
I wanted to gag. Most of what she said was lies and half-truths. I opened my mouth to tell her it wasn’t fair, but she held up a silencing hand.
“Russia. Monday. End of discussion.”
I wanted to bolt right then and there. I imagined pushing by her smug little face, packing my lone suitcase and running away with Roman forever. But I knew I had to hold on for a few more days. Roman’s face flashed before me, the safety I’d felt in his arms washing over me. I needed to get to him and figure this out. Fast.
I raced up the stairs two at a time. I couldn’t get out of that kitchen fast enough.
“Your mother and I are heading out for a bit. Errands to run,” Aunt Eva called up the stairs after me. “You’re not to go anywhere.”
What are you gonna do, handcuff me to the bed now
? “Yup,” I said as I turned the corner and flipped her off with a scowl. Even though she couldn’t see me, it still felt good.
“Keep an eye on your brother,” Mom yelled out.
I had to admit I was glad they were going out. Even though I couldn’t leave to find Roman, I planned on snooping around while I had the chance.
I stuck my head in Jayden’s room, watching him mesmerized by his PlayStation, surrounded by rumpled bedding. His fingers moved at lightning speed over his controller as lively video game music filled the room. He managed to pry his eyes away from the TV a moment and smiled up at me.
I shook my head, chuckling at how cute he was.
Sneaking past his overloaded laundry basket, I looked out the window, waiting for the hounds to leave. Mom and Aunt Eva finally got into the car and the engine whirred to life. I released a cleansing breath as they backed out of the driveway.
“I’ll be around if you need me,” I said to Jayden as I moved toward the door.
He nodded, his intense green eyes focused back on the screen.
I scampered down the stairs, my heart rate climbing. I didn’t know how long they were going to be gone and I didn’t have a moment to waste. I headed toward the back of the house. Once I was at the basement door, I turned the round handle.
The wooden steps creaked beneath my bare feet as I walked down the stairs. I shuddered. I never liked basements. They reminded me of horror movies where someone hears a strange noise and then goes to investigate. Of course that’d be after all their friends have just been murdered. I always wanted to scream at the TV—
For God’s sakes, leave and call the police, you idiot
!
Unfortunately, the police couldn’t help me with what I needed.
The lighting was dim, with only a few rays making their way through the tiny window at the top of the concrete walls. When I reached the bottom, the cold concrete floor nipped at my feet like icicles. I wished I’d brought a flashlight…and maybe a pair of socks.
The stench of cigarette smoke filled the room, no doubt from Uncle Boris, the walking cigarette himself. My eyes swept over the box spring and mattress splayed along the floor where my aunt and uncle slept. White satin sheets tucked snugly into place with a neat row of red cushions spread across the top. Placed on the concrete floor, next to the hot water tank with copper pipes looming overhead, it looked completely out of place—like a bed of roses in a minefield.
I stumbled across the room, banging into boxes, looking for a closet or locked box. I peeled back the cardboard flaps on some boxes, but found only Aunt Eva’s clothes. The smell of her Eves Saint Laurent perfume wafted into the air. I screwed up my face, holding my breath, and rummaged through the boxes quickly. Everything was black with fancy labels.
Not finding the dagger, I closed the flaps, frustrated and gasping for fresh air. Even cigarette smoke was better than her scent. I slid my hand along the damp, cool wall, edging my way toward the back of the room. The clothes dryer droned on, and the washing machine gurgled, churning like a demon digesting its prey. I totally wanted to whip around and fly back upstairs, but I willed my legs forward, scanning the room. I held my hands on the top of the dryer, warming them a moment before spinning around, my eyes scanning over the shadows.
My stomach dropped as I caught sight of a door a few feet away. Pushing off from the dryer, I barreled to it as fast as I could. My breathing became rapid, visions of a golden snake dagger twirling in my head.
I yanked the door but it didn’t budge. My hand dropped onto a padlock.
Great!
I cursed myself for not bringing the key from Mom’s room that I’d found.
I have to get it.
Dashing across the concrete, I headed to the stairs. I tripped over a cardboard box and skidded against the hard floor. “Ouch!” I yelped.
Floorboards creaked overhead and I heard footsteps that began to grow louder as they came closer. I scrambled to my feet, awkwardly climbing over and around boxes, cursing Aunt Eva and her fashion collection. Sweat beaded on my upper lip as I ascended the stairs, terrified their creaking would give me away.
I pushed through the basement door and raced toward the stairs. Jayden stood on the top landing looking down, a worried expression on his face.
“You okay?” he asked. “I heard you yell out.”
“Yeah, sure. I’m okay, Buddy,” I said, balling my hands into fists and smiling. “Go back to your Tony Hawk game. Don’t worry about me.”
“I’m not playing Tony Hawk.” He laughed mischievously, “I’m playing Gears of War 2!”
“Aren’t you a little young for that?” I asked, walking up the stairs toward him, heart still thumping.
“Grandma bought it for me.” He did a little happy dance.
“Well now, hasn’t
Grandma
come into the twenty-first century?” I bit my lip, but tousled his hair. Then I spun him around, giving him a playful pat on his butt to move him along. “Well don’t let me interrupt you taking down the enemy.”
I waited until he’d closed his door, and then sprinted across the hall into Mom and Dad’s room. I ran straight to the closet, shoving clothes away, until I reached the back. I plunked to my knees and found the box. My hands trembled, but I pried it open. Quickly shifting the baptismal gown, I saw the key gleaming up at me. It was all I could do not to squeal aloud. I snatched the key, jumping up with my face flushed in excitement. All I could think of was running away with Roman, finding my family, and being safe.
I ran back down the stairs stopping only for a brief moment to look out front. I was relived there was no car; but knowing I was running out of time, I dashed toward the basement.
I walked more carefully this time, arms outstretched in front of me, weaving in and out of boxes, a strand of cobwebs drifting across my face.
I lifted the padlock, trembling all over with anxious excitement. Steadying my hand, I extended the key toward the lock, hoping it would slide into place. No such luck. My heart drummed in my chest. I twisted the key around the other way and tried putting it into the lock again. It still wouldn’t fit. My mouth fell open.
“No, no, no!” I whispered, feeling like I could cry any minute.
The buzzer on the dryer went off, its sound jarring into the silence. I jumped, a small squeal passing my lips as I dropped the key.
Something shifted in the far shadowy corner. I gasped—my stomach dropping—like I’d gone down a massive roller coaster. I dropped to my knees and picked up the key. I crept on hands and knees toward the stairs, desperate to escape.
You’re so dead right now.
I crawled a few paces, keeping my head down, when I bumped into someone’s legs.
I inhaled a sharp breath. My eyes landed on a pair of black boots. I opened my mouth, hoping for words to tumble—some genius excuse or reason—for me to be in the basement, now crawling on the floor. But words failed me.
“Need a hand?” I heard a familiar voice say.
I gazed past the boots all the way up the dark denims, past the Coldplay t-shirt, to the eyes of the sexiest guy alive.
“Roman!” I blurted out, relief overwhelming me. I grasped his extended hand and he pulled me to my feet. “You totally freaked me out!” I hugged him, his warmth spreading through me. “How’d you get in here?”
He kissed my nose quickly. “The front door, babe. I saw your Mom leave with someone else, and then I went to your window, but you weren’t there. We’re supposed to be looking for the dagger, remember?” He shifted back on his heels. “I had to sneak in cause you weren’t in your room, and I got worried. Plus, I didn’t know who else was lurking around here.”
I paused for a moment, drinking in the sound of the word babe that was directed toward me. A smile crept across my face, but then I quickly remembered what I needed to tell him.
“My aunt is taking me to Russia on Monday! If I don’t find the dagger—and even if we escape—she’ll leave and probably take it with her.”
Roman’s face dropped.
I twirled around and pointed to the locked door. “I found it. The door! But the stupid key won’t fit.” I held the key up. “Useless.”
Roman walked to the door, raising his hand toward it. The golden moon-shape in his palm blazed, a mischievous grin forming on his lips. “Let me take care of that.”
His golden palm turned orange, and then shifted to a crimson red. The lock began to shake, rattling against the steel.
“Sshhh,” I warned, glancing over my shoulder toward the staircase.
When I looked back toward Roman, the dead bolt was hanging open. “You did it!” I said, completely in awe of him. I draped my arms around the back of his neck. He ran his fingers across my hands and bent his head down, kissing them. Shivers ran through me. I wanted to jump into his arms right there—feel his lips on mine instead of just on my hands.
“The door?” Roman gently tugged my hand, bringing me beside him.
“Right.” Whipping the lock off the door, I pried it open. A blast of cold air rushed out, cooling my skin.
I reached up, pulling at the string hanging down from a bare bulb. The inky black room became fully illuminated. Sacks of potatoes and canned food lined shelves on either side.
“C’mon, you gotta be here,” I moaned, sifting through the goods. Roman dropped to the ground, looking underneath the shelves, and sliding his hands across the sandy floor.
I searched the entire closet, finding nothing. I released an exasperated groan. “It must be here, right?” I asked, my voice catching.
“Wait,” said Roman, sounding urgent. I watched him pull out a brown stacked folder. Removing the elastic that covered it, he yanked out the papers and began sifting through them. He paused, read a little, and then moved to the next, his face growing more and more ashen.
“Roman, we’re looking for a dagger, not papers,” I said, frustrated.
He looked up at me, his eyes bulging.
“What is it?” I asked, slipping to the ground beside him, the cold seeping through my jeans.
I reached for the paper he stared at, but he shook his head, so I pried the one at the back of the pile from his fingers. It was a birth certificate.
The name written on it was Giulia Rosa with my birthdate. The parents listed were Angelina and Juliano Rosa. Birthplace: Venice, Italy. I gasped. I realized Jewel was short for Giulia, obviously named after my father, Juliano. I pressed the paper against my chest, releasing a deep gratifying sigh. If there was ever any doubt of who I belonged to, there wasn’t anymore.
Roman sat quiet, face pale, as his eyes scanned across the page in his hand. “What’s wrong?” I asked leaning over him.
“They have the blueprints of every coven’s home base, and of every witch’s endowment. How could they know that?” he pondered out loud. “This is the page about
their
coven.” He pointed to my mom’s name. It read, Karina Ivanova: Telekinesis.
I gasped. I remembered during our last move that someone had been chasing us. Right before I had passed out, she’d put her fingers to her temples and the car had lurched all of a sudden. I wondered if her power was the reason we’d been able to avoid being caught all these years.
I looked for Grandma’s name. Raine Primakova: Calmative control. Funny, I never even knew Grandma’s or Mom’s last name. I just assumed Mom’s was Rose, like mine.
I pondered over Grandma’s endowment. “Calmative control. Hey, I think that’s a fancy way of saying like calming or something. I knew it! She has a very soothing way about her that can even make you fall asleep.”
“Forget that,” said Roman. “They’ve got bigger plans. Look at this.” He flipped the papers and showed me the elaborate blueprints and writing.
None of it made any sense. It was just a bunch of unusual words on paper that reminded me of Hermione Granger reciting some spell.
Roman tapped the paper with his finger. “They’ve not only kidnapped you for your power and what it will bring to them, Jewel.” He closed his eyes and shook his head, and then looked back at me, his eyes serious. “They’re trying to harness your power somehow. It doesn’t make sense. It’s like they want to cast some kind of spell to control you.”
“What the hell—”
“Let’s just go,” Roman shoved the papers back into the folder. He snapped the elastic in place, and then pushed the folder under the back of his jeans, covering it with his t-shirt. “I’ve seen lots of witch’s spells, but this crap is unbelievable.”
His words sunk in, making me feel sick. “You mean they want me to kill other witches?”
He took my hand, leading me out of the room, and relocked the door. “Any who stand in their way.”
“Stand in their way of what?” I asked, breathlessly.
“It’s like a hierarchy…one that they obviously want to be at the top of. This is just what the Augusti wants to avoid.”
My cheeks burned and I looked to the floor as we walked away. I felt like a pawn in the middle of a chess game. The Augusti Forza wanted me dead, my kidnappers needed me so they could gain domination, and Henri and Dominique’s coven hunted me.
I stole a glance toward Roman as we headed up the stairs. The smile he gave didn’t quite reach his eyes. Another complication. Was he having second thoughts about falling in love with the girl at the center of so much drama? I wouldn’t blame him if he did, but I needed him more than ever, and I hoped he wouldn’t give up on me.
Another thought suddenly occurred to me that was even more disturbing. What if the Augusti was right? What if I were destined to turn into some crazy abomination like Paolo had said? I tried to shake off the feeling of dread. I could never become what Roman said about the other Spectrals. Could I?