Wicked Sense (5 page)

My
eyes
opened
, and there she was
again
, blood all over her hands, and she was
…
chanting
, I guess
.
B
esides
my head hurting, I felt painful pi
npricks throughout my body
and a strange
sensation
of
we
ightlessness, almost as if I were
levitating. B
efore I
could understand what was happening
,
I
blacked out
again.

When I
woke up again
,
my
whole
body
was
hot,
as if
ablaze, even in the freezing rain. In my mind, I was burn
ing
alive. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t. Skye
was breathing deep
ly,
using a guttural voice
, and rubbing my head, my hands, my feet. S
waying back and forth like that, s
he looked like a lunatic, to tell the truth.

That’s the last thing I remember before the ER. I have to admit it was dark, but the night darkness was different
from
my lights-out darkness, and much clearer. Also, I could have been hallucinating, with my ba
nged head and all, but
it felt
so vivid.
So real.

So,
I have many questions, and
the most important appears to be
:
when is
it
a good time to ask a girl you
’ve
just met
whether
she’s a
Satanist
or a
nut
-
job
?

I wanted to make contacts and be discreet. And I ended up almost killing someone. On my first day of school. Good job, Skye!

M
y glasses
are gone
. Now I can’t see auras anymore.
And I can’t disguise my weird blue eyes. I couldn’t attract more attention. 

I’m drinking my morning coffee when Aunt Gemma walks into the kitchen. She smiles
warmly and gets a
mug
.

Aunt Gemma is not my
aunt
, but she’s my host family here.
S
he’s
not a witch
either
, but
a Knowing
—
a non-magic user who knows about the Veil and is trusted by the Mothers.
Knowing
s
are
usually friendly, which makes sense, since the unfriendly
might
incur the risk of being “dealt with
.
” Some of them benefit
from
magic, but most of them keep quiet
out of
plain loyalty, like Aunt Gemma.
The British Mothers arranged for my lodging here. I can’t complain. Aunt Gemma is okay.
As
with
the other
K
nowings
, she’s fascinated by us and tries
to learn as much as possible.

After we say our good mornings, I ask her, “Did you know there’s already a
Sister
at
Greenwood
High?”

“No.” S
he looks surprised. “Who?”

“A girl.
Jane Kaplan. Do you know her? She rides a red
motor
bike
,
er
, motorcycle.
”

Having Jane at school is truly annoying. I can sense her energy
all the time
. It’s like being back home, when Mum’s energy was always around me. Only I love Mu
m, while
Jane
…
I
d
on’t.

“Kaplan,
Kaplan…”
Gemma
goes through her list of neighbors and acquaintances from church. Yes, she goes to church. I don’t even ask
her about it. “No, I don’t know her.”

“Why would the Mothers send me here then?”

“Maybe they don’t know about her.” She shrugs. “
Connor
would, though.”

Argh
,
Connor
. Golden
b
oy
, from one of the oldest magic families.
T
he rare male witch
,
what people call a warlock, but nobody I know uses this term. He’s a male witch.

He’s also my former boyfriend.

My silence doesn’t deter Aunt Gemma. “Don’t be
gloomy;
you knew you’d have to talk to him. He’s the
Seattle area
overseer.” Gemma knows about my past with
Connor
. G
ossip mills work as well in the witch circles as in any high school.

“It’s ridiculous they chose a male witch
for this
position,” I say, out of spite.

“He’s almost royal
ty, you know that,” Gemma says. She
pauses to munch on a Milano mint. “Besides, he’s not your regular witch.” She points the biscuit at me.

“No, he’s a world class jerk,” I say. Bitter much?

Gemma shakes her head. “Now, if you don’t want me to
pry
, why do you say such things? What happened between you two?”

I say nothing. She sighs. “Are you going to meet him?”

“I’ll find him. He’s at U
niversity of Washington
, right? Philosophy,
Savery
Hall.”

Gemma giggles. “People here call it U-Dub, Skye. You want to sound like a local, right?”

Now I’m taking hip lessons from
someone
forty
years older than me
. “Thanks,” I say. She’s trying to help, after all.
Besides, Aunt Gemma pretty much leaves me
to
myself, wh
ich I appreciate. She only asks
that I don’t
bring boys home. As if, as they say.

I kiss her and leave.

Walking around Greenwood makes me feel good. The neighborhood is filled with antique stores and thrift shops. This connection
to
the past somehow makes
me
more attuned with my personal magic. The open spaces and streets lined with trees don’t hurt either.

I need some connection with
n
ature
.
Aunt Gemma told me about
some secluded Seattle parks
and
I have to check
them
out
sometime
. Our
small
backyard is no substitute
for
a large outdoor area.
I haven’t performed a decent ritual since I arrived. Well, not counting the healing one I improvised for Drake.

I’m
almost at the bus stop
when I remember. First, I’ll
go
to
a store and get a phone. If anyone else tries to die in my arms, I’d like to be prepared.

***

T
he bus
drops me off a couple of blocks from
“U-Dub
.
”
I saw picture
s
of the
u
niversity
once
before: they showed c
lear
skies and blossoming
cherry trees
that
reveal
ed
the
s
pring
glory
of Seattle
.
No such scenes in the a
utumn. Now the only beauty is the palette on the trees and on the ground. Yellow, orange, red: the leaves in Seattle die a colorful death.
I navigate the lawn and the elegant buildings until I find a directory.
Resolute,
I go down Memorial Way,
expecting
a stunning vista of Mount
Rainier
, but
it’s hidden by
clouds in the distance
.
Oh, well.

I
turn my attention to the students
. Around my age, but somehow… adults. Or maybe it’s just my impression of them.
Is
college
for me
? I’m a blank canvas.
I have so many interests
, but nothing
compels me. I’m not passionate
about
anything in particular.
I feel disconnected even from my Sisterhood.
Maybe
I’m empty inside. Like
Connor
told me.

Connor
.
T
he Mothers chose
him
for the search
, granted
.
But
I know he wouldn’t come here if he
didn’t want to. He had a choice
. He
chose to leave
me.

What am I doing here? I could get hurt all by myself in Lo
ndon.
I didn’t need to cross the pond to feel crushed.

Y
et
here I am
, looking for him.
Well,
I
didn’t have a choice. T
he Mothers sent me here.

I
’d
better
find him. I try to concentrate
o
n
the
magic
al
energy
—
that
faint signature that all magic users exude
. Close to
Savery
Hall, I feel it
.
A prickling sensation all over my body. S
trong. U
nmistakable.

There he is,
looking around
.
N
o doubt he feels
my energy too
, now that I’m close
.
But
I have
the
True Sight Charm
;
I can spot
him
before
he
spot
s
me.

W
hen
Connor
sees
I’m the source, though
, he is stunned. He mumbles something to the three girls
gathered around
him. They giggle
(
probably
his Allure C
harm at work)
, but leave. He uses the time I take to walk over
to
him to recover.
His pearly teeth show a big smile.
Without my glasses, I can only wonder if his powerful purple aura still shines bright.

“Skye! Of all the gin joints in
all the
towns…
” His baritone voice
tries
to win me over
. I bet his British accent, the same I worked so hard to lose, impress
es
the girls here.

“Hello,
Connor
.”

“What a
surprise,
”
he says.

Wait, w
hat? Didn’t the Mothers tell him I was coming to help?
That’s weird, but I don’t want to sound more confused than I already am, so I just say,
“How’s the s
earch
?”

Connor
scans the
people
around
, afraid somebody will eavesdrop on us.
“Don’t break the Veil, Skye,” h
e whispers to me. “Come with
me.” H
e reaches to grab my arm, but thinks better
of it
in mid-movement, and changes the gesture into a beckoning wave. Smart move,
Connor
.

We walk for a while, silent, until he says, “This is the HUB. Let’s
stop for coffee.”

He
asks for
a
long-named concoction.
I observe him
while he
chats up
the barista.
He shows off his bulging arms
.
I wonder if he still rows.

With h
is easy smile,
perfect teeth
,
and
amazingly soft and perfumed hair
,
he doesn’t even need the Allure Charm. He could flirt with you while
he
sleep
s
.
I
get
a double
espresso
, to blend in. We walk around the camp
us, trying to avoid the students. W
e need privacy.