James Riley.
James Gavon's fricking apprentice Riley.
My pulse pounded in my ears and my fingertips glowed. How could I not have remembered the son of a bitch who tried to kill me in a dueling match two years before?
Oh yeah, I'd been too busy trying not get killed to decide if he was hot or not.
Well, he was definitely hot. And definitely a serial killer.
I glanced around the room, waiting for…something. Him to stand up and tell the class they were now under his…power? Something like that. But, except for the occasional sigh of boredom or scribble of his pencil, he caused no trouble. Ms. Grace was handing out the textbooks for the year, and when the stack came to me, I turned around and glared at him.
"What the ever-loving hell are you doing here?"
"Learning," he said, taking the stack from me with infuriating normalcy.
"Learning what?"
"Lexie, is it? Please keep conversations to a minimum," Ms. Grace said, walking by.
The boy with the power to blow her to smithereens offered me nothing but a superior look, and I turned away from him.
I heard nothing of what Ms. Grace was saying. Hell, I'd even forgotten what the class was about. Two years, I'd been waiting for this moment. Waiting for Cyrus to reappear and finish the job he'd started in my aunt's kitchen—
"Careful, Alexis, you don't want the nonmagicals knowing your secret," came a deep voice in my ear.
I glanced at my fingertips, now sparking with purple magic. Ignoring the lingering warmth of his breath on my neck, I inhaled and exhaled, forcing myself to calm down until the magic receded into my body. But my pulse remained elevated, my gaze on the windows of the classroom, searching for the evil magicals from New Salem that I knew were going to appear at any second—
"I'm sorry, Lexie, am I boring you today?"
I jumped out of my chair. Ms. Grace peered down at me, her arms folded across her chest. Someone began to snicker as I stared at the teacher, unsure what I'd done wrong or what I needed to say.
"I asked if you would please read the first part of the syllabus to the class."
I quickly recited the first paragraph about tardies and expectations, and she moved on to someone else.
I heard his breathy chuckle behind me, and my anger returned. What did I care if Ms. Grace thought I wasn't paying attention? I was going to single-handedly save the school from all the evil magicals.
Except, there was a severe lack of evil activity. There were no proclamations, no fireballs. None of the horrible things I'd lost countless hours of sleep over were happening.
So what the hell was going on?
I spent the class trying to keep my fingers from sparking and developing a strategy for engaging with James. All the carefully laid plans went out the window when class ended, and I spun around in my chair.
"Okay, what the hell are you doing here? What's your plan? Is Cyrus here? Is he ready for round two? Because I'm ready any—"
"If Cyrus were here, do you think I would be?" he drawled placing the book into his bag. "I already told you, Alexis, I'm here to study. Same as you."
"Bull fucking shit."
He chuckled and swung the bag over his shoulder. "I'll have to tell your father about your swearing."
Cold water doused my anger. Your father. He'd said it so casually, like it was a simple fact. And to him, it was. To me, it was an awful realization while sitting in a cold jail cell, being jeered at by a man who wanted me dead.
Of the many things I'd never forgive, Gavon not telling me himself after we'd spent six weeks together was pretty close to the top. Right after him allowing Cyrus to kill my mother and aunt.
James took my silence as a victory—the only one I swore he'd get—and left as if this was the most normal thing he'd ever done.
"Lexie?" Ms. Grace said. "You'll be late for your next class."
With a nod, I gathered my things and hurried off.
Where the son of a bitch was waiting for me. Although this time, he was having an easy conversation with Callista, a pretty girl who'd been in some of my advanced classes. She was as excited about James as I'd been before I knew who he was, and I couldn't blame her. There was nothing about him that wasn't handsome. But I felt it my duty, as her classmate, to warn her.
"I wouldn't if I were you," I said, walking to an empty seat nearby.
"W-what?" Callista said, glancing between the two of us.
I settled in my seat, unwilling to lose this war against him and glaring icy daggers at James. "He's not a good person. I'd avoid him."
James glanced over his shoulder, reminding me of a cat lounging in the sun. "That's not very welcoming, Alexis."
"My name is Lexie. And you aren't welcome here."
"The name your father gave you is Alexis."
My face must've betrayed the storm of emotions that f-word awoke in me, because James' grin widened.
"I thought your father was dead, Lexie?" Callista asked, looking between us. "Or gone? Do you know her father? Where did you say you came from again?"
James quirked a brow in my direction, and I dared him to say something. But the physics teacher called the class to take their seats to begin the period.
I barely paid attention to the introductions, taking my textbook from James with a glower as I passed the stack behind me. Whatever he was playing at, I would find out and put a stop to it. Like hell he was just here to learn.
But learn he did. From my vantage point behind him, he seemed for all the world like an earnest student. He wasn't called on to answer questions, nor did he offer any, but his pen was never far from the paper. If I hadn't known better, I would've thought he was just as studious as I was.
But I did know better. Which was why I didn't believe any of it.
When he showed up in my third period, I was now sure he'd be in every single one of my classes. Because why not? This was obviously an attempt to torture me into submission. Or to annoy me so much I'd make a mistake.
Or maybe I already had. Perhaps Cyrus was using James as a decoy, and had already gone after my sisters. It had been three hours since I'd last seen Nicole. Could she already be dead?
Panic blossomed in my chest, and I reached into my bag to search for my phone. Leaving it hidden in the bag, I hastily tapped out a message to Nicole.
Are you all right?
"Alexis, no phones in class," came the terse reply from the advanced vocabulary teacher.
I put the phone down, blushing as James caught my eye with a smirk. Was that because I'd gotten in trouble, or because he had my sisters on the brink of death? Again, he offered me that curious quirk of his brow, as if he knew something I didn't and was enjoying it very much.
My phone buzzed and I dove for it in my bag.
Fine. Why wouldn't I be?
"Lexie, if you don't put away your phone, I will have to take it."
My face grew hot again, and I stashed the phone back in my bag. Nicole was safe, but what about Marie? A read receipt could be forged very easily. Cyrus could figure it out. Gavon could definitely figure it out. What if Marie had really been dead all this time or tortured and I hadn't even gone to look for her and—
My breaths grew shorter and spots danced in front of my eyes. Not again. The last thing I needed was another panic attack. I was supposed to be a Warrior. How could I possibly defend my sisters if I couldn't even breathe right—
Not helping.
Heart pounding in my chest, I glanced around the room. I counted five items I saw: my pen, my notebook, the desk, the carpet, the shoe of the boy sitting in front of me. I touched the pen, felt the paper and the wood of the desk, then grabbed the cloth of my jeans. I listened, pinpointing the sound of the teacher, the squeak of the dry erase marker, and the sound of the clock ticking on the wall. I breathed in the cool, AC-filled air of the classroom, and caught a whiff of the perfume of the girl in front of me. And I bit my pen, tasting the plastic in my mouth. I repeated the process until the pounding in my chest subsided, which took a good twenty minutes.
Then I exhaled, exhausted and embarrassed.
After Jeanie had died, I'd started getting panic attacks, normally when I thought I saw Cyrus or dreamed about him. It was odd how I'd faced death without fear, but when it came to living after it, I was a chicken. So I'd Googled a few tricks for how to deal with it, mostly so I wouldn't have to burden Nicole with another cost, and had been using them ever since.
But the attacks left me drained and miserable, not to mention ashamed that I couldn't control my own thoughts. Although at least this time, I had reason to be fearful.
The anxiety still burned my chest, but it wasn't careening out of control anymore. No one was the wiser, and I wanted to keep it that way. Carefully, I chanced a look behind me at James. Head down, scribbling quickly, focused on the teacher. He met my gaze and smiled cruelly.
I mustered what was left of my anger and glared back.
I'd never been so thankful for lunch. At the very least, I knew I could slip away for an hour and no one would notice I was gone. I wanted to check on my sister, and on the spells I'd cast around our house.
Nicole had worked at the local pharmacy even before Jeanie died. It honestly fit with her potion-making magic, not that she'd ever pick up a potion book again. Before things went to crap, she'd had aspirations of working as a chemical engineer at a pharmaceutical company. Now she stood at a cash register and dealt with crotchety old people all day. She swore she was happy, but it was a total lie.
"Lexie! What are you doing here?" she asked, concern evident on her face as soon as she saw me. "Are you all right? You look pale."
"Fine, fine, just…" The words died on my tongue. If I told Nicole that James was at school with me, she'd worry. Scratch that, she'd flip out and never let me leave the house. But she couldn't protect us against him or anyone else. So what good would come from stressing her out? This was my problem to deal with, not hers.
"Lexie, are you sick?" She'd met me on the floor of the store and pressed a hand to my forehead. "You're sweating like crazy and you're clammy. Do I need to take you to the doctor?"
"No!" I said. "No, I mean. I'm fine. Just wanted to see you. Make sure you're okay."
She half-smiled. "I'm fine. What about you? Do you need to eat?"
"Yeah, that's all. Just hungry." I needed to leave before I aroused more suspicion.
"I told you you're working yourself too hard," Nicole said, pressing the back of her hand to my forehead to check again. "You're going to run yourself into the ground."
"Sorry for worrying you," I said, stepping back. "I just needed…tampons. That's all."
"I thought you wanted to make sure I was okay?" Nicole said, eyeing me. "Lexie, is there something you aren't telling me?"
And there it was, my opening to be honest with her. To just tell her James had shown up and I had no idea what it meant. To confess that I'd just had a panic attack when I thought of her and Marie dead and that I could probably use an anti-anxiety medication or maybe even a good therapist. To mention that I spent weekends sparring with a magical apparition of myself in case Cyrus came back and I had to protect the family.
But I couldn't burden her, not when I'd already ruined so much of her life. Ignorance was bliss, and I promised myself this time, I would deal with the problem before anyone got hurt.
"Lexie?" Nicole pressed.
"I'm on my period. Of course I'm emotional right now."
It was a boldfaced lie, but it worked. Nicole dropped her hands from my head and pursed her lips. "Okay…so what was that text earlier?"
"Just… wanted to make sure you were having a good day at work." I needed to leave, before I blurted out the truth and made things worse. "Bye!"
And with that, I darted out of the pharmacy.
Read 12:52pm
A few days ago, that would've been enough to quell my fears, but today I needed more proof. Which was why I was back in the apartment, digging through my closet until I found it: the hairbrush Marie had left when she'd stormed out. It was the only thing I had with her DNA on it.
The spell book I needed appeared next to me, already flipped to the right page. This was one of the books Gavon had given me, and although he hadn't stuck around long enough to teach me how to use the spell, I'd figured it out eventually.
This charm can be applied to an object containing bodily material. When magic is added, the object will reflect the health of said person.
If the object glows,
White, then the person is healthy and hale;
Yellow, then the person is sick or in distress;
Red, then the person is losing blood;
Black, then the person has perished.
I held the brush in my hand and concentrated, releasing magic from my palms into the strands of hair. I felt the connection with Marie, the white glow of her healing magic that permeated her DNA, somewhere far away.
Gavon had once said that magic moves faster than light and in more ways than was explainable by nonmagical science. So it was no surprise that the hairbrush vibrated almost immediately, and then flashed a pure white.
I dropped the brush to the floor in relief. Marie was safe, but that didn't mean I could fully relax. The New Salem baddies weren't above playing a long game. I could see the strategy now—come declaring peace and a willingness to learn, befriend me, then, just when I trusted them, rip the carpet out from under me.
But now I knew my sisters were alive and well, and my house was secure. I finally released the last bit of tension from the bottom of my lungs. Exhaustion weighed on the back of my eyelids, but something else was growing. Anger.
My fingertips glowed and I let the feeling of control take over. I was a Warrior, damn it. And if James Riley thought he could come into my school and do…whatever evil thing he wanted to, well, he had another thing coming. I wasn't a gullible teenager anymore.