Witch Eyes (16 page)

Twenty-Four

“Don’t strain yourself, Jason.” I grasped the edge of the bed for stability. The vertigo sensation was only growing worse, hurtling through some imaginary chasm I couldn’t see.

“I’m your father, Braden.” His voice sounded even darker now, rumbling across the room like some sort of demon.

With my free hand, I struggled to reach my face. But there was a disconnect between my mind and my body, and I couldn’t quite reach it. The more I moved, the more intense the nausea in my stomach. I started gagging as my stomach threatened revolution, but I kept trying. Finally, my fingers slipped onto the glasses, and I ripped them off. My vision sharpened instantly.

Silver violet rose pink scarlet amber forever and ever she never meant anything to you can’t trust gray embers burnt out sparks of thank god I needed this forest green relief and rest and burning trails of magic.

T
hrough the haze of a thousand lives, I saw it. Th
e spell was a sickly green, the color of pine needles suffe
ring before death. They formed chains that stretched across the room. I could just barely see over the top of the bed, where they trailed right toward their source. For once, I tried to focus on the impressions sweeping through me, anything to avoid the effects of the spell.

“You’re not stronger than me.” It was hard to even choke out the words. I pushed against the chains, forcing them to unravel in front of me. Power surged inside of me, a strength I’d somehow drawn out of the emotions smothering the room. I took it in, and turned it into magic.

It was slow at first, one link at a time wavering under my concentration. And then all at once, the spell snapped, the chains ripped apart and hurtled toward Jason. Immediately the nausea faded, like it had never been there. I pulled myself up from the side of the bed.

“Very good,” Jason said, sipping at the cup of coffee.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Part of me didn’t, at least.

“You won’t.” Jason settled the cup back on the table, and then stood up. “You have an incredible gift, Braden. But you don’t intim
idate me.”

I hesitated. Everything was just getting too confusing. First Jason was a jerk, and now he was some sort of concerned alpha-parent. I’d come to keep Uncle John safe, but once I got here everyone wanted me to actually kill someone. Someone else had once had my powers, but hadn’t left anything to help me learn control.

Jason’s tone was grave. “You’re already winded. I’ve barely got
ten started.” He indicated the distance between us. “Could you stop me, if I continued? Or if I’d bound those glasses to your skin? You don’t know the first thing of what you can
do. I can teach you strength. I can give you that control. You have to fight through the pain.

“I want you to live. To grow strong, and be the son I know you can be. I won’t lose you to her.” Jason’s voice was suddenly savage. “I don’t dare.”

“Do you hear yoursel
f
?” I snapped. “You don’t know a thing about me. What was my first word? What did I ask for at Christmas when I was six? God, what’s my favorite book?” I waved my hand in a circular motion, drawing the magic out through the fingers. “I’m just a project to you. A strategy.”

Maybe Jason saw what was coming before it happened. His eyes narrowed, and I saw the magic he’d started drawing to him.

I’d drawn much, much more than he had, and I pushed it out all at once. It ripped through Jason’s spell before it had time to gain a form, and shoved him back down into the chair. “At least Catherine was a bitch to my face.”

I threw on a shirt and a pair of jeans. My phone and keys were on the nightstand by my bed, and I scooped them up as I moved for the door. Jason hadn’t recovered by the time I slammed the door behind me. And he didn’t appear before the elevator doors closed around me.

I sank to the cold tile floor of the elevator, and watched the flo
or numbers gradually descend.

¤ ¤ ¤

I’d managed to pull myself back onto my feet by the time the elevator reached the lobby. I wasn’t nauseous anymore, but it was almost like the memory of feeling that way was enough to start the process all over again.

The guy at the desk eyed me as I headed out the front doors, but I soon forgot about him. I focused on my phone, and scrolling down the pitiful address book to call home.

“What’s wrong?” John demanded immediately.

I hesitated. A part of me wanted to drop to the ground and lose it, expecting that he’d come in and fix everything. But that wasn’t who I was anymore.

“What do you know about Lucien? I mean, really know?”

Silence from the other end, and although I heard his breath catch a few times, he never actually started to speak.

“You can’t tell me anything either?” I closed my eyes and looked up toward the sky. Absolutely perfect.

Finally, after several more moments of some sort of struggle, Uncle John managed to spit out, “What’s happening?”

W
hat was happeni
ng? I still wasn’t sure. Something about Lucien was bothering me, but
I didn
’t know enough to know what it was. “Something’s wrong. I don’t know, I had this dream about him last night that was all strange. And he’s told me one thing, but he’s telling Jason something else. And I think he was telling you something, too. Wasn’t he?”

More silence. It’s impossible to actually hear someone go red in the face, but I almost thought I could.

That’s when the inspiration struck me. “You can’t tell me the truth,” I said slowly. “But you can lie, can’t you?”

John didn’t say anything, and I wondered if I was completely off base. But I had to try. He inhaled, and I waited. “It doesn’t work like that,” he said finally, the words leaked in a rush.

“Catherine doesn’t have any clue who I am,” I said, lowering my voice. I’d walked over to the town square, and was sitting at one of the benches facing the fountain. The square was deserted on a Sunday morning, but I didn’t want to take any chances. “But someone’s definitely been after me since I’ve gotten to town. They’re having me followed, and I think they’re using magic,” I said, thinking back to the weird shadow images I’d been seeing.

“When I was growing up, and my brother and I would fight,” Uncle John said, “he’d never wait around if I pissed him off. He’d beat me bloody, but he was always up front about it. And when it was over, all was forgiven.”

The story came out of nowhere, and I almost questioned him in confusion. But then I stopped myself. Uncle John wasn’t allowed to tell me anything useful, but maybe he wasn’t completely helpless.

“So if it was Jason trying to scare me,” I said slowly, trying to put the pieces together, “you think he’d be more up front about it?”

I waited for silence. Expected silence. Silence would have confirmed my theory. “I haven’t said anything,” John said immediately.

Crap.
Did that mean I was wrong? Or that I was right, and the question had edged too close to whatever was wrong with him?

“Braden,” he said, sounding more upset, “I can’t help you with this. Not now. You just have to trust in yourself. Remember where you come from, and what you know.”

On my own. I sat with that for a minute. What I needed was help. And information. I knew exactly where to turn.

¤ ¤ ¤

“Braden? What’s the matter?” Riley hurried across the square, accompanied by her own personal armband percussions. “You’re freaking me out.”

I’d curled up on the side of the fountain. I needed to tell someone. I couldn’t stand the lies anymore, and everything they were doing to me. Anything, just so I could figure it all out in my head. “Everything’s gone to hell.”

“If this was any other town,” Riley’s voice was dubious, “I’d think you were being metaphorical. But since it’s not, just one question. What did Jade do now?”

“Jason Thorpe is my father.” The moment I said the words, it felt like everyone else in the square turned to look at me. But I was too ashamed to look up and meet their eyes. I dropped my head back down.

“Your … wait … your … ” Riley sputtered. Her eyes were wide, and she grabbed at me.

“Father,” I supplied. “Dad. Parent. Paternal relation. Genetic donor.”

It took the normally hyper girl a minute to process. I could relate. I was still struggling. “You talked to him?”

I lifted my head. “He showed up this morning like we were best friends.”

“But Jason doesn’t have any kids. Just a son that … ” Riley trailed off, as she put the pieces together.

I didn’t need to see her face to know what she was thinking. “Yeah, apparently I got snuck out of town to hide me from Catherine and everything going on here.”

“Does anyone else know?”

I shook my head. “Just Jason. And his lawyer, too. And now you.”

Riley leaned back. “God,” she breathed. “It’s kinda cool, though. Don’t you think? Jason’s got loads of money, and you can pretty much do what you want.” She grimaced. “You don’t need to be Jade’s pet project anymore.”

“I’m not.” Riley’s issue with Jade was none of my business. “She’s my friend.”

Her skin flushed, and she looked away. “I’m just saying.”

I’d hurt her feelings. “Sorry, but it’s not like that.” I sighed, looking up toward the sky. “I just had to tell someone.”

“Why is it such a big deal?”

“I just need to figure some stuff out. Maybe why they’re both so amped up abou
t the other one.”

“Like why the feud’s such a big deal?” Riley asked, and I nodded. “Always has been. But if you’re looking for answers about it, I know a guy. He runs a comic book shop, and knows more about the weird stuff in town than even I do.”

Of course it would come back to Gregory. “Yeah, we’ve met.”

Riley closed her mouth and nodded. She had the strangest look on her face, a mix of surprise and shock. I wasn’t sure what it meant. “Come on, it’s only a couple blocks.”

Gregory’s was closed when we got there. The lights in the building were on, and according to the sign they should have been open, but the door was still locked. Weird.

“There’s something you should know,” Riley said, but I wasn’t really listening. I had a feeling that Gregory was inside, and that the door had only gotten locked once he saw us crossing the street.

“Door’s just stuck,” I muttered, hoping it was convincing. Unlocking a door was pretty simple if it was a normal loc
k. Lucky for me, this was. The plate surrounding the keyhole was the color of tarnished gold, complete with a number of scratches where the key had dragged against metal. Just as long as Riley didn’t realize I was doing magic, I’d be oka
y.

“Braden? Are you listening to me?”

I grunted something noncommittal, my attention more on the lock than on Riley. I closed my eyes, imagining the hole filling with a silver and gold spell that formed itself into a key.

“You know, you’re not even listening to me, and I’m trying to tell you something important here,” Riley announced. But I missed the urgency in her voice. I was focused more on waiting for the click.

“Just hold on a minute,” I muttered. There it was, the click. I reached out to touch the doorknob, hesitating for a moment. I wasn’t sure why, but all of a sudden breaking in didn’t seem like such a good idea. Gregory seemed to be close to Trey. I had a feeling my visit would be the topic of a very interesting phone call very soon.

“You’re on the Internet!” Riley blurted out, just as the door swung open under my hand.

If I’d thought the day’s surprises were going to end with my father’s appearance that morning, then I was sorely mistaken. “What?”

“I was going to tell you,” Riley insisted, reaching out to tug on my sleeve. “See, there’s this website about Belle Dam—”

“The SAC something or other,” I interrupted.

Riley flinched, dropping her hand. “Uhm, right. How’d you know about that?” Since she couldn’t see my eyes, I had to trust that pressing my lips together would get the point across. “Right, anyway. I mean, not
you
you. But this really pretentious guy named Myth Man posted about this boy witch who’d come to town. I didn’t even know they
made
boy witches, but Myth Man seemed insistent. Then you showed up at school and I got curious, right before he followed it up by saying the witch always wore glasses.”

So Riley thought I’d be her best friend, and she’d learn a little something about witches. “So that’s why you’re hanging around.” Riley’d been playing me too. Everyone in this damn town had an agenda.

“No!” She looked near to tears. I realized then that I had almost been yelling. “I just thought I could prove him wrong, that’s all. It’s crazy, right? A boy witch?”

“Why’d you wait until now to tell me?”

Riley looked down, her hair spilling into her eyes. “I was going to, but I figured if I did, you’d think I was fak
ing being your friend. Or that I just wanted something from you.”

Gregory had told me about the site before, but I hadn’t thought I’d be on it. “What else is on there about me?”

Riley shook her head. “Nothing, I swear. It just said a new witch showed up in town the night before Labor Day, and it seemed like he wasn’t involved with either side.”

“So you think I’m a witch? Just because some jerk posted a rumor about me?”

Her forehead crinkled. “It’s just this board where people get together and talk about the weird stuff. And there’s a whole section for talking about the people that can do things.”

“Like Catherine Lansing.”

She nodded. “Who told you about it?” It was the
reporter in her. No
w that I knew her better, I could hear the shift in her voice, the way her words took on an edge.

I shrugged. “Who else? The man behind the curtain.” I pushed the door open. Gregory had some explaining to do.

Except that he didn’t seem to be anywhere in the shop. I gestured for Riley to follow me toward the stairs, but the sound of voices coming from a different room stopped me.