Rebel Witch Page 10

  Even as the words leave my lips, I know it’s a long shot. But I’d give anything right now to wipe that superior look off Ryder’s face. Maybe it’ll take some time to figure out if a spell like this exists. And maybe in the meantime, I can stay here with Calder and Taj—and perhaps get some work in on the euphorium issue.

  Ryder chuckles. “Yes, actually. There’s a pretty simple test.”

  “Say what, now?” The surprise in Calder’s tone matches the sensation tightening my chest.

  “You just happen to know of a simple test to see if someone is a magical focus?” Taj asks.

  “Not exactly,” Ryder admits. “The incantation makes a person’s magic visible. It’s used sometimes to diagnose issues in spell casting for advanced learners. But if Bryn is to you what she claims, her magic will show that.” He gestures for me to stand and move toward a long table along the right side of the room.

  As I move into place, my heart hammers against my chest. This is it. In a few moments, Ryder will know we’re telling the truth.

  But unease still knots my stomach. What if we’re wrong? What if there’s some other explanation for the way we all react to each other. Suddenly, the odds of two men who respond to me as a focus working for the same organization seems astronomically low. And if I’m right and Poe also falls into that group, the odds seem slimmer still.

  Ryder turns to face me, his expression blank as he closes his eyes. After a deep inhale, he murmurs a brief incantation. In a blink, shimmering filaments of green and gold appear around my hands and feet. The strands travel steadily downward like a system of fine roots seeking out nutrients to make me strong.

  But mine isn’t the only magic that’s appeared. Taj’s fire affinity criss-crosses his hands and arms in glittering orange and sparkling gold threads. Calder, a telekinetic, is surrounded by an aura of cobalt blue and icy silver that undulates like a living cloud. Ryder’s ability manifests itself differently still, as a halo of silver and white around his head.

  “Are you a telepath?” I ask as Ryder closes the distance between us.

  A ghost of a smile flickers across his lips. “Yes.”

  “Then why don’t you just read our minds to see we’re telling the truth?”

  An odd wistful look flashes across his features. “The objective truth and what we believe the truth to be are two different things. But magic never lies.”

  Before I can ask what he means, Ryder lifts his hand until his fingertips are mere inches from my arm. Almost immediately, the gold and green strands of my magic stretch out toward him. The colors dance around his hand for a few moments before sinking back to their former position.

  Apparently getting the results he expected, Ryder takes a few steps backward before nodding for Calder to approach.

  Calder offers a nervous smile as he draws near, and it strikes me that he might be experiencing with the same fears that war inside me. What if we’re wrong?

  He holds his arm out the same way Ryder did, and again my magic stretches out to investigate who’s standing so close. But this time, instead of going back to its business after a few moments, my magic begins climbing up Calder’s arm like a vine. And his blue-silver aura extends out from his fingers until it begins covering my hand and arm.

  Ryder steps closer to get a better look at the exchange. “Incredible,” he murmurs. “Taj.”

  There’s no hesitation in Taj’s movements as he strides to my unoccupied side. Within moments of his fingers extending toward me, my magic begins to coil up his arm as well. And, like Calder’s aura, the orange and gold strands of Taj’s magic begin to encircle me.

  “Well, I’ll be…” Ryder shakes his head slowly. He murmurs something that sounds similar to the incantation he spoke earlier, and a split second later, the clouds and threads of magic blink back into the unseen realm. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

  “But you do now?” I ask.

  “It’s hard not to after that,” Ryder says. “We could do that experiment with a hundred different people, and your magic wouldn’t react like that.”

  “Unless she’s that person’s focus,” Calder amends.

  Ryder nods. “But I can’t imagine she could act as an anchor for many more people. As you can imagine, it takes a tremendous amount of energy on her part.”

  Taj rests his hand on the small of my back as he turns to face his boss. “What happens now?”

  Ryder rakes a hand through his hair. “I’ll admit, this changes things. I stand by my earlier assessment—Miss Wilder isn’t ready to go out into the field. But you’re right, too—the three of you can’t be separated for long periods of time. And I don’t want to lose the two of you. You’re too great of assets to the Front.”

  “Oh, go on,” Taj says, waving a hand.

  I can’t help giggling. It’s not just Taj’s humor. Giddiness bubbles inside me. Ryder’s not going to split us up. I hadn’t even known to fear such a fate until a few minutes ago, but that shadow hanging over me for even such a brief time was enough to suffocate me.

  Ryder starts talking about housing arrangements for the three of us, but he gets no more than a few sentences in when a sharp knock reverberates through the main door. Ryder excuses himself and crosses the room to open it.

  Taj and Calder both turn to me to express their relief, but for some reason, I can’t keep my eyes off Ryder. His posture changes from one of wonder verging on relaxation to the ramrod-straight stance of a man ready for action. I strain my ears to hear what’s happened, fearing Lillian’s people came back to Wisdom—or worse, hit another town entirely. But only a single word pricks my ear.

  Daemon.

  Something inside me jumps at the word. It’s almost like when I used the locating charm to find the Staff of Rahn. A tug urged me forward then, and a similar sensation makes me want to move now.

  It’s Silas. I don’t know how I’m so sure, but I feel it in my bones.

  When Ryder slips outside without so much as a word to the three of us, I know I have to follow him. Taj and Calder ask me what’s happening, but all I can do is shush them as I open the door and stalk after Ryder and the woman with shoulder-length brown hair who leads him through the camp.

  The whole place is full of more bustle than before, but I can’t make myself pay attention. My attention is laser-focused on Ryder. He and the woman don’t slow until they reach a truck parked a few yards away from a building with a solid silver square in the center of the door.

  They open up the back and pull a figure from inside. The man wears tight-fitting maroon pants and slim-tailored black dress shirt His shiny black hair is in desperate need of a trim.

  His name is on my lips before I can stop it. “Silas!”

  The guards escorting him toward the building don’t pause, but I catch a glimpse of his profile as he twists in their arms in an attempt to see me.

  Ryder turns as the door closes, his face pinched in anger. “This doesn’t concern you. Why on earth are you following me?”

  “Sorry, Ryder,” Taj says quickly, standing between me and his boss. “We know him. That’s the daemon we told you about—the one we were thinking might need clearance to enter.”

  Ryder pinches the bridge of his nose. “Of course he is. Patel, you come with me. I need every detail you have on this guy.”

  “What about me?” I ask, poking my head around Taj’s arm. “Can I see Silas?”

  “He’s not here to hurt her,” Taj says quickly.

  Ryder sighs. “Fine. Ross, you stay with her.”

  The words are barely out of his mouth before I’m running toward the door. The guards stationed outside eye me warily as I twist the knob and push my way inside.

  The irritated scowl on Silas’ face melts away when his eyes land on me. He stands from where he leans against the edge of the small rectangular table in the center of the room. “Long time no see, cupcake.”

  Tears sting my eyes as I rush across the room to embrace him. His familiar smoky scent fills m
y nostrils and part of me is sure I’d be content to stay in his embrace forever. “I thought I’d never see you again. What are you doing here?”

  He releases me, reaching out to clasp Calder’s hand briefly before returning his attention to my face. “I ran into some of Lillian’s goons, and they told me Lillian’s gotten her hands on Mona’s euphorium supplies. I needed to come tell you all before she could flood the market and start hooking supernaturals left and right.”

  I squeeze my eyes closed for a moment, remembering the fear on Connie’s face as she tried to pull her mother back to reality. “It’s already begun.”

  Silas turns, banging his head on the table top and swearing. After a beat, he twists around to face me. “So, what do we do about it?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Silas

  I hate that it’s already begun.

  I sit in silence around the small rectangular table in the bleak, bare-walled building the Front’s guards dragged me into as Bryn and Calder fill me in on the details of what happened in Wisdom. The pain shining in Bryn’s eyes breaks my heart. I can’t imagine how hard it was for her to see a little girl going through the same thing she did when she was younger. And while there’s a better chance little Connie’s mom will come through this ordeal without becoming a euphorium addict, it’s clear to anyone with eyes that Bryn’s having a hard time distancing herself from what’s happening.

  But that’s not why I’m so mad Lillian’s already started making her move. My reasoning is altogether more selfish.

  I wanted to be the hero.

  Just once. I wanted to be the one to ride in and give the key piece of information that would keep evil from its triumph. And more than that, I wanted to be Bryn’s hero. Instead, it’s clear that role was filled by Calder and Taj—as usual—as they cared for the people of the town and the little girl while her mother was with the medics.

  “Ryder thinks it’s a bad idea for me to be in the field,” Bryn says. “But if things get as bad as I fear they will, I doubt he’ll keep me out for too long. And it’s not like I don’t already have sparring experience. Poe and Kari made sure of that.” She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand, her eyes widening like she’s struck upon the most exciting possibility ever. “Do you think he’ll let the four of us be a team?”

  I’m ready to point out that a boss man like Ryder probably doesn’t do much field work when her true meaning hits me like a punch to the face. She means me. Her, Taj, Calder, and me—the fab five, minus one. She wants to get the band back together.

  Except it’s not that easy. I pat her hand gently with my free one before pulling them both back across the table, out of her reach. “I think you got the wrong idea. I’m not here to join up. My reasons for leaving haven’t changed. I came to get the information to you guys. But the fact is, by this time next week, I’ll probably be bound to someone.” Or definitely be bound, considering I traded my DNA to get here—but I don’t add that last part. Even pushing the date out until next week is optimistic on my part. Really, I’ve got no recourse if the guy sells my hair before then. He could be selling it now, for all I know.

  Bryn’s face pinches in the way it does when she’s deep in thought. It takes all my willpower not to reach across the table to smooth the line etched between her eyebrows. After several seconds, she leans toward me, her elbows on the table. “Does it hurt?”

  I glance at Calder, convinced the question was meant for him. But when all he does is shrug, I ask, “Does what hurt?”

  “Being bound,” she clarifies.

  I bite back a groan. This isn’t something I want to talk about. It’s not even something I ever talk about. But Bryn’s expression is so genuinely interested, I can’t help responding. “The spell itself can hurt. But once that’s over, it’s not so bad.”

  She tilts her head as if she can read my mind. “I don’t think that’s the truth.”

  I snort, but she’s right. “I guess it’s usually like a mild headache—but I can usually ignore it after the first day or two. But when I’m ordered to do something, my whole body sort of… aches. It doesn’t really hurt unless I’m trying to fight against the master. I learned that the hard way.” I offer a half smile, like we’re talking about a hangover from mixing liquors instead of my times of forced servitude.

  “But you’re not in pain if they’re not making you do something?” she presses.

  I shake my head.

  “The spell to bind you—is it dark magic?”

  My stomach twists. I want to change the subject, but I can’t deny her the information she seeks. “No, believe it or not. And you don’t have to be a witch to cast it—but you do have to have a base level of power. Like, a child can’t cast the spell.”

  She nods. “And do they, like, have to make you do something every so often to keep the bond going?”

  Heat creeps up my neck as I shake my head again. She’s not asking anything too intimate, but it still feels like she’s pressing too deep.

  She nods, her eyes slightly out of focus as she processes something in her mind. All I can do is hope she’s not coming up with more questions to sate her sudden interest in daemon magic.

  It feels like a full minute has passed before she sits up straight, her manner suddenly businesslike. “I’d like to do the spell.”

  The gears in my mind grind to a halt as I try to process her words. “You… What?” I look to Calder for clarification, but he looks as confused as I feel.

  “With your permission,” Bryn says quickly. “I want to be the one to bind you. I mean, not to order you around or anything. You wouldn’t even have to stay here at the Front—or wherever we end up. You can do whatever you want.” She presses her lips together. “I know it’s only a year. But for that time, you can be free.”

  I stare at her, not sure how to respond. She wants to be the one to bind me? The idea is almost too wonderful to consider. For once, to not live with the constant fear that I’ll be bound. To not wonder every day if today is the one. To not feel the creeping sense of dread when I catch myself enjoying whatever I’m doing, knowing that too soon it’ll be taken away from me.

  To be bound to Bryn would be amazing. If the offer were to come from any other person, I’d be afraid there was a catch. But I know it’s not like that with her. I can see the truth shining in her eyes. She doesn’t want to trick me. She doesn’t want to possess me. She wants to give me a gift. The most wonderful gift someone like me could ever know. To have agency over my life for three hundred and sixty-five full days is something I never bothered dreaming about because I assumed it would never happen. Some daemons choose to live lives of isolation for fear a trader will scrounge up enough of their DNA to sell to a potential master. I’ve never considered a life like that because, to be honest, I’m not sure which fate would be worse. Either way, I’d be a prisoner, it would just depend on whose prison I found myself in.

  “I… Bryn, I…” Words refuse to order themselves on my lips. Emotion after emotion crashes over me. Joy. Wonder. Fear. Elation. Worry. My heart flutters against my chest like a bird beating its wings against a cage. Everything in me longs for freedom. I want nothing more than to stay here—or wherever—with Bryn. Hell, the idea of being around Taj and Calder is even appealing. In the last couple of weeks, I’ve grown to regard both of those guys as friends—something I never thought I’d be able to say. For years, I assumed the best I could hope for was someone like Jesse—a stranger who happens to know a handful of my preferences. Someone I could feel comfortable and welcome around, but without the benefit of closeness or real friendship. And even though I can’t say I’ve got a bunch of touchy-feely emotions toward Calder or Taj, I respect them both, and I enjoy being around them. The thought of deepening my connection with them over the next year is almost incomprehensible.

  And Bryn. When I left Twin Rivers, I honestly thought I’d never see her again. When I came here to warn her about what I learned at Waywards, I assumed our brief encounter w
ould only serve to cut me deeper when we had to separate again. But if she does this, if she binds me, I can spend the next twelve months by her side.

  If she wants me to. She framed her offer as if I can come and go on my own terms. But what if she assumes that’s what I’ll want? I’m sure she, Calder, and Taj are looking forward to starting their life as a threesome. I doubt any of them will want me hanging around—a fourth wheel.

  Except I’m not reading even a shadow of apprehension on Calder’s face. If he’s worried I’m going to stick around and cramp his style, he’s got a helluva poker face.

  “Yes.” The word finally trips out of my mouth like a gust of air. I want to thank her, to tell her she can never know what this offer means to me, but nothing so eloquent pops into my head. “Spirits, yes.”

  Bryn’s face splits into a brilliant smile that makes my chest tighten. “You want me to do it? That’s not... It’s not weird?”

  I nod, blinking as the backs of my eyes begin to sting. “Not at all. You... You have no idea what a gift you’re giving me. I trust you, Bryn.”

  She presses her lips together, the corners of her mouth curving into a heartbreaking smile. I have to wonder if anyone has ever spoken those words to her. I know they’ve not been used on me.

  “Tell me how to do it,” she says, an air of business coming over her. “Let’s get this done now. I don’t want to risk someone else binding you.” Her nose wrinkles. “Is that possible?”

  I want to tell her it’s not, but the truth is I have no idea. The guy at Waywards promised he wouldn’t sell my hair for a week, but even if he’s true to his word, there’s never an absolute guarantee someone else doesn’t have a big enough sample of my DNA. For all I know, Oscar and his buddies could have swiped a sample last night when I was distracted. Although, that scenario is far less likely because the rules about such thefts at Waywards are well known, and Jesse isn’t the kind of guy who misses much. “I don’t want to risk it either,” I say simply. “The spell is pretty easy. I’ll lead you through it.”