“Please don’t make me go,” I beg my mom, my bottom lip trembling as I watch her continue to pack some of my things into a duffle bag.
She stops moving around my room and guides me to the end of my bed, where we both sit. She holds my hands in hers, squeezing them almost to the point of pain. “I don’t have a choice, honey. I am so sorry.”
I stare out the window, watching the trees sway in the heavy wind. “None of this makes any sense, Mom. I don’t . . . have magical abilities.” I turn to her, shaking my head. “There must be some mistake.”
“Emery—”
“I think I would know if there was magic inside me,” I snap, and she flinches. I pull my hands back and stand. “I don’t know what angle he’s playing or what he wants . . .” My voice trails off when Mom starts packing again. “Are you really going to force me to go?”
She stops filling the bag with my clothes, keeping her back to me. “You’ll be grateful for it someday.” She sniffles. “I only hope you can forgive me.”
“So I don’t have a choice.” My voice is barely above a whisper.
“You have no idea how much I wish I could help you, but what you need to learn should be taught by someone who has experienced this change and understands it.”
“There hasn’t been a change,” I shoot back in a defensive tone. I feel exactly like I did yesterday and the day before that. Nothing is different.
With a sigh, she zips the bag shut and faces me. “I know you don’t believe anything we’ve told you. It will take some time, but you’ll understand more once you accept this. Please let Nova help you. Listen to him. Allow him to show you how to figure this out. Okay?”
I stay silent because no, it’s not okay. Everyone is lying to me and has been for years. I don’t know what to believe anymore. Which of the stories I’ve grown up hearing about my parents are true? How can I be sure?
She stands in front of me in silence for a moment longer before she nods. “I love you, Emery. Nothing will change that, not ever. Please remember that.” After glancing around the room, she walks out, leaving me staring at the bag on my bed all ready to go. And the only family I have left packed it for me.
Hushed voices travel up the stairs; they must be standing at the front door waiting for me. I look toward the window, briefly considering trying to escape through it. Where would I go? Not to mention I’m on the second floor, with nothing to scale down to reach the ground safely.
With a sigh, I shoulder my bag and walk out of my bedroom, not knowing when I’ll return. My stomach is a mess of nerves, but there’s an odd tinge of excitement. For the first time in my life, I’m leaving Covington. Against your will, I remind myself. This isn’t a vacation—it’s a freaking nightmare. My feet stop moving a couple steps away from the top of the stairs as it becomes increasingly difficult to pull air into my lungs.
I can’t leave. I can’t do this. If I leave, something bad will happen just like it did when my biological mom left.
I shake my head, trying to push the thoughts away, but they still linger at the surface.
Forcing a few deep breaths, I put one foot in front of the other, counting my steps until I’m standing at the base of the stairs, looking between my mom and Nova.
“I love you so much,” Mom says, her voice cracking as she throws her arms around me and hugs me tight.
“I love you,” I say, pulling away.
She wipes the tears from her cheeks and turns her gaze to Nova. “Take care of my baby, Donovan.”
He nods, taking my bag while I put on my jacket and dark brown hiking boots.
Before long, we’re in his SUV heading toward . . . I have no idea where. I reach into my purse to pull out my phone only to find it missing.
“Holly thought it might be best if you didn’t have any distractions for a while.”
My head whips in his direction as my pulse kicks up, and I grit my teeth. “You can’t be serious.”
“I think it will help,” he adds, keeping his eyes on the road as we get on the I-20. “Don’t worry, you won’t have time to miss it.”
I glare out the windshield. “What about school? My friends? You can’t just disappear me without people asking questions.”
He nods. “It’s being handled.”
“How?” I push.
“Your mom will contact the school and let them know you’ve transferred out of town for the remainder of the year. Your friends will be told you’re staying with family.”
“Hold on. The entire school year? It’s November! You’re saying I’m going to be stuck wherever you’re taking me for seven months?” The panic in my voice makes it sound screechy, but I can’t help it. The thought of being away for that long has tears gathering in my eyes again.
“Emery—”
“I don’t want this, Nova,” I whisper, my voice thick with tears.
He frowns. “I know. I’m sorry, but it’s the safest thing for you.”
“That is total crap,” I snap. “Something else is going on here, it must be. There’s no way—”
“Everything your mother and I have told you tonight is the truth. I understand it’s difficult, I do, but you need to start accepting it.”
“Like hell I do.” I haven’t felt such anger since my mom died. Even as a child, when something that traumatic happens, you remember it years later as if it was yesterday. “You crashed my birthday and told me I have magic that will kill me if I don’t learn to use it and you expect me to just be okay with that? You want me to be excited that you’re going to teach me how to use these abilities you claim I have?”
“I won’t be teaching you,” he says. “I don’t have Wielder abilities. However, I have been studying them for many years in order to facilitate this process for people like you who are coming into their power.”
I stare at him, but he keeps his focus forward. “You sound like you should be locked in a padded room,” I tell him. I’ve never experienced carsickness, but this conversation is starting to make me feel queasy.
“I know you’re not ready to hear everything. I’ll let your mentor explain the basics tomorrow.”
Mentor? This almost sounds legit. Great. I’m going to a house full of crazy people who think magic is real.
“You can sleep for a while if you want. We’re about an hour and a half away.”
Yeah, right. I need to keep my eyes open, to see where we’re going so when I make my escape I know the route. I yawn despite that. My eyelids are heavy, and staring out the window is only adding to the nausea rolling through me like a tidal wave. Maybe closing my eyes for a few minutes will help.
I curl onto my side as best I can in a seatbelt, leaning my head against the window. The cool glass feels nice on my skin, and it doesn’t take long for me to doze off.
The bedroom I wake in is not mine. Confusion floods through me as I try to remember what happened. When it all comes rushing back like a speeding train, I sit up in a flash. My eyes take a second to adjust to the dim light from the lamp next to me, and I hold my breath as my gaze moves around the small, pale blue room. There’s nothing but the twin bed I’m on, the table next to it, and a dresser against the opposite wall. The small window across from the bed is dark, and the leaves on the trees outside dance in the wind.
Did Nova carry me into the house?
I find my bag hanging on a hook on the back of the door and rummage through it for . . . what? My phone isn’t here; all I have is clothing and toiletries.
I fight to swallow as my chest tightens with panic. Even as my head remains fuzzy, the rest of my body goes into flight mode. I need to get out of here.
I press my ear against the closed door and am met with silence. I reach for my bag, then stop myself. It’ll be easier to get away if I don’t have to carry anything. I manage to squeeze my wallet into my jacket pocket. I don’t exactly have a solid plan—or any plan—but I’ll need money to get anywhere.
My fingers shake as I reach for the knob, turning it slowly as if any tiny sound will alert Nova that I’m awake.
I pull the door open and cringe when it creaks. I freeze for a good thirty seconds before opening it enough to slip into the hallway. My stockinged feet are met with plush carpet, and I frown. Where are my shoes? I look back into the bedroom but don’t see them. That could be a problem if I have to make a break for it outside. I push that worry aside. I’ll run barefoot if I have to—I can’t stay here.
The hallway isn’t long. There are two closed doors on either side, and it opens into the kitchen at the end. There are no pictures or art on the soft gray walls, and I’m not sure what to think of that.
I come to an abrupt stop when voices reach me. I press my back against the wall, my jaw clenching. Crap. So much for an easy getaway.
My eyes land on what looks to be a side door off the kitchen, but I’ll have to make it past a wide doorway without being seen. It’s unlikely, but really the only shot I have.
“This is ridiculous,” a sharp feminine voice mutters.
“Relax, Zoe,” a new male voice says. It’s warm and soft like melted caramel, and I hate it. “No one is asking you to train with her. Just be nice.”
She scoffs. “Whatever.”
A few seconds later, a door slams, and I flinch. Don’t worry, I want to say, I’m not staying.
There’s a small stretch of silence before a male voice speaks again. “How did she handle it? I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”
That is met with a sigh. Nova. “As well as can be expected, Kit. She had no idea about her lineage. She doesn’t believe anything I told her, which of course is partially my fault. Her mother and I didn’t want to put her through this until it absolutely had to be done.”
I lean against the wall, my knees a little unsteady. What he’s saying . . . He truly believes it. Which means I’m in worse trouble than I thought.
“You did what you had to do. You’re taking care of Simon’s daughter just like you promised him you would.”
“All I can do is hope that’s enough,” Nova says.
“We’ll figure it out. In the meantime, how would you like me to approach the situation?”
“With caution.”
The other guy—Kit, I guess—chuckles. “Noted.”
One last deep breath, and I bolt. My sight is set on the door; the space between where I am and where it is blurs, as if the world has sped up. I don’t have time to question it as I reach the door, flip the lock over, and turn the knob. Forget shoes, I’m getting out of here now.
The cold night air chills my face when I pull on the door, but before I can open it wide enough to get out, an arm reaches past me and pushes it shut.
My heart crashes against my ribcage as my stomach plummets. I let go of the doorknob, my hands balling into fists at my sides. “I shouldn’t be here,” I say in an uneven tone, still facing the door. I don’t want to turn around.
The hand pressed against the dark wood flexes before pulling back. “You’re scared. I understand that, but you need to be here.” I recognize his voice as the guy Nova was speaking to in the other room.
I whip around, then stumble back into the door as my eyes lift from Kit’s black T-shirt to his blue-gray eyes. The expression in them is soft, empathetic. It only fuels the fire in my chest.
“I need to go home,” I say, desperation creeping into my voice.
Nova approaches from behind Kit. “Please hear us out. I think you’ll find that once you have more information, you won’t feel so . . . caged.”
My eyes narrow on him. “I trusted you.”
He frowns. “I’m doing this to protect you.”
I shake my head. “I don’t need protection from anything but you.”
Kit cracks a smile so faint I almost miss it. Almost.
“What are you smiling at?” I growl.
“You are going to be one interesting Wielder,” he says.
His easygoing demeanor makes me scoff, and I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m not going to be anything. I want to leave.”
“Em—”
“I’ve got it, Nova. Just give us a few minutes,” Kit says, without taking his eyes off me.
I hold his gaze out of spite more than anything, as if looking away would give him some sort of satisfaction. It doesn’t make sense, but I keep staring regardless.
Nova walks past the kitchen table and disappears down the hall I came from, stepping into one of the rooms and closing the door.
I look back at Kit. “I’m not staying here.” My voice is firm. I don’t want him getting any ideas that he can somehow convince me otherwise.
Kit blows out a breath and shoves a hand through his dirty blond hair. It’s short on the sides and longer on top, and I hate that I notice that. With the way it keeps falling into his face, it could probably use a trim.
“Will you sit and talk with me?” he asks after a moment of silence between us.
“Do I have a choice?” I fire back.
He presses his lips together. “Sure. Nova’s gone. You want to leave, I won’t stop you. But I will tell you that leaving is the worst possible thing you could do. Your magic may not be dangerous tonight—hell, you may not even have tapped into it yet—but it can become that way very quickly if you don’t learn how to wield it. You think your life is upside down now? Imagine trying to live a normal life, go to class or out with your friends when your magic is consuming you from the inside out. You have the potential to be one of the most powerful Wielders of our time, but left untrained, you also have the potential to hurt a lot of people—yourself included.”
I close my eyes, letting his words sink in as tears clog my throat. I’m not seriously considering believing this guy, am I? I take a moment to rein in my tears before opening my eyes. “Fine,” I finally say. Because no, I don’t believe I have a treasure chest full of magic inside of me, but the idea that I could has me absolutely terrified.
He smiles and extends his hand. “I’m Kit, by the way. I know you don’t want to be here, but I’m glad you are. It’s nice to meet you, Emery.”
After a moment of hesitation, I shake his hand. It’s warm and firm. “Um, thanks. You too?”
Kit’s smile morphs into a full-blown grin, and I can’t help but stare at it. “You sound so sure,” he says in a teasing tone. “I’m hoping we can turn that into something that doesn’t sound like a question.”
We backtrack the way I came and into a living room. A wood fireplace heats the cozy space as I follow Kit over to a couch that looks as though it’s seen better days, and we sit on opposite ends.
I press my lips together before blurting, “None of this makes sense.”
Kit nods. “That’s fair. What did Nova tell you?”
I give him the lowdown, which isn’t much considering I didn’t exactly give my mom or Nova an opportunity to elaborate.
“Why don’t we start with the most basic question?” he offers.
“Okay then. What the hell is a Wielder?”
The corner of his mouth tugs up into a lopsided smile. “Once upon a time—”
I cut him off with a dark look. I’m not in the mood for jokes.
“Wielders are inhuman people with the ability to harness one of the elements in most cases, sometimes two depending on their lineage. Air, earth, water, and fire. We are descended from angels, which sounds, well, just about as crazy as everything else you’ve learned so far.”
“Angels?” I blink at him, processing the information. “That’s . . . All right then. So Wielders come here to learn how to use their element?”
“Yes. We’re one of a handful of houses in the area that train newbies.” He shoots me a wink and continues, “Most come, learn about their abilities—and themselves—and then move on.”
“So, what, you’re still learning? How long have you been here?”
He purses his lips. “My parents brought me to Nova just before my eighteenth birthday. They knew about my power, though it skipped my mother’s generation as it sometimes does—magic isn’t always predictable—and they’d heard about Nova’s home for ‘gifted individuals.’” He uses air quotes and rolls his eyes. “At first, I thought it was a joke—much like I’m sure you did. But I couldn’t explain the changes I was feeling.”
“What changed? I don’t feel any different, so I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Everyone is a little different, but for me, it was a building pressure in my chest and in my veins. It made my skin tingle, but it also made me feel as if I was going to explode from the inside.”
My eyes go wide; I don’t want that to happen to me.
“So when my parents told me everything and about this place, I didn’t fight them. I packed a bag and came here.”
I nod, fixating on a loose thread in the couch cushion I’m sitting on. “How long have you been here?”
“Two years,” he answers.
My stomach plummets. “You expect me to stay here for two years?”
Kit laughs, shaking his head. “I could’ve left a long time ago, but I decided to stay and help Nova run the place. To help new Wielders like you to navigate the changes that are coming.”
I wet my lips. “Really? Why?”
His brows knit as he regards me thoughtfully. “Because it makes me happy, helping others. I remember what it was like when my entire life changed.” He leans in a little and lowers his voice. “I’ve been where you are, so please, let me help you.”
I stare into his eyes, and his gaze remains sincere. Everything about him makes me feel as though I should trust him. Either I’m right in believing I can, or my gut is seriously wrong—and he’s got a damn good poker face.
“Okay,” I finally say, not because of what he or Nova said to me, but because of what I heard them say when they didn’t know I was listening. If there’s even a tiny chance this magic stuff is real, maybe I owe it to my dad to stick around and find out.
I toss and turn for the rest of the night, unable to find a position comfortable enough to fall asleep. This mattress is too firm. I miss my mountain of pillows and my heated blanket. I miss home. I crack the window open and close my eyes, listening to the soft chirp of crickets outside.
Eventually, I doze off, and the darkness is a welcome reprieve.
“Please,” my mom begs in a cracked voice, tears rolling down her cheeks. “My beautiful girl, this isn’t you.”
My jaw clenches as energy ripples through me. The shadows are closing in, but I am not afraid. In fact, I welcome them. Their embrace is all that I’ve been searching for. All those years of being misunderstood—they don’t matter now. I twist my wrist, and the tendrils of darkness wrap around my mom’s throat.
“You lied to me.” My lips shape the words, but the voice isn’t mine. It’s deeper and far more menacing than I could ever be, especially toward the woman who took me in after I lost everything.
She gasps, clawing at the darkness around her throat. “Pl—please. I’m so sorry. Please don’t do this . . .”
“Emery, no!”
I whirl around and find Lana and Jessa running toward the clearing, panic etched into their features as the dark air fogs with their heavy breaths.
My chest tightens. “What are you doing here?”
The girls glance at each other before looking back at me. “Holly told us everything. We know what you’re going through, Em. We want to help.”
I bark out a cold laugh. “Help? How could you possibly help me? Do you all of a sudden have magical abilities I’m unaware of?”
Jessa frowns, her eyes welling with tears as she looks past me to where Holly is pinned to a thick tree trunk. “Emery, you’re going to kill her.”
I roll my eyes, focusing my magic on Jessa. “Actually,” I say as the darkness spreads toward my friends, “I’m going to kill all of you.”
The clearing fills with shrieks of terror as my focus shifts to a guy dressed in black standing at the tree line, untouched by the chaos of my magic.
I wake with a gasp, then start coughing from the dryness of my throat.
What the hell was that?
Trying to shake off the chilling remnants of my dream, I peek out the window to find a hint of the sunrise. I tug on my favorite black hoodie and wander down the hall into the kitchen. I grab a glass and fill it with water from the tap, downing it as my eyes catch the time on the microwave. It’s just after six. With a sigh, I glance around the small kitchen. Oak cupboards line the room and the appliances are definitely dated. My gaze halts on the espresso machine in the corner. Thank god.
“I’m not used to anyone else being awake at this time.”
I whirl around, clutching my chest in surprise, and my eyes land on a short girl who looks to be around my age. She has dark skin and curly brunette hair, which is piled on top of her head in a messy bun.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” She smiles. “I’m Lydia. It’s nice to meet you. Emery, right?”
My hand lowers back to my side as I glance at the oversized band T-shirt she’s wearing over a pair of black leggings. “Right. Uh, hi.”
“Are you hungry?” she asks.
I shake my head. Something about this girl makes it impossible to be angry around her, which is kind of annoying considering I’ve been clinging to my anger with every fiber of my being since I arrived—and for good reason. “Coffee would be good, though.”
“Caffeine for breakfast?” Her brown eyes seem to sparkle. “I like you already.”
While the machine heats up, Lydia grabs two mugs and sets them on the counter.
“So, you’re a Wielder?” I ask.
Lydia presses her lips together, clearly trying to hide a smile. “Yes. We all are. Well, aside from Nova.”
“Oh, right.”
She touches my shoulder as if to offer me comfort. “How much has Kit told you?”
“Some, but I’m sure not even close to everything. I think he’s afraid of overwhelming me.” To be fair, I am most definitely overwhelmed.
She nods, grabbing a glass from the cupboard behind me and filling it with water from the sink. “It was terrifying for me. Both of my parents are Wielders, so my power was stronger than someone with only one Wielder parent to inherit magic from. It got pretty intense.” She takes a drink and sighs, leaning against the counter. “Things spiralled out of control fast—as in, I flooded my family home. I couldn’t figure out how to work my magic, and because your emotions are tied closely to your magic, the frustration and panic I was feeling only made things worse. Until I came here. Nova saved my life.” Lydia smiles. “And now look,” she says, dropping her gaze to the glass in her hand. She stares at the water inside, and a second later, it’s funnelling around the glass as if she’s stirring it.
Holy crap.
I blink, waiting for her to reveal some hidden, non-magic cause, but she only smiles at me again before setting the glass in the sink.
“It’s a neat trick, but my point is, once you gain control over your abilities, it will change your life for the better. I didn’t believe it until it happened to me, and I have Nova to thank for that.”
“That seems to be a theme around here,” I comment, recalling Kit’s story earlier.
“He’s one of the good guys.”
I nod, wondering if she knows he’s been a part of my life since I was a baby. Something in me decides to keep that to myself.
Once the espresso is done dripping, Lydia divides it into the mugs and turns to the fridge. She grabs the milk and scoots past me, steaming it before pouring it into our mugs.
“Hold on,” she says, reaching into the upper cupboard and pulling down a spice tin. She sprinkles cinnamon on top of both lattes before handing me one.
“Thanks.” I lift it to my nose and inhale slowly, savoring the aroma.
Lydia and I sit on the porch at the front of the house, our legs covered in a heavy blanket.
“How are you settling in?” she asks, taking a sip from her steaming mug.
I bite the inside of my cheek, staring out at the front yard. The grass is covered in a layer of frost, and massive oak trees line the property. I can’t see another house on either side, just trees. There’s a gravel driveway where Nova’s SUV is parked in front of a smaller car, and the smoky scent of burning wood permeates the cold air.
I turn my attention to Lydia. She’s being nice; I don’t want to sit here and tell her that I hate it and want to go home, but that’s the truth. “Honestly, I don’t know that I am.”
She nods. “I know it’s hard. I mean, I tried for weeks to get out of this place, but every time I did, I wound up coming back.”
My eyes widen. “You left?”
She cracks a smile. “A couple of times in the first month I was here. It’s overwhelming, finding out your life isn’t what you thought it was.” She pats my knee. “I get it, Emery. Believe it or not, we all do.”
I tap my fingers against the side of my mug. “Why did you come back?”
“I tried to learn and practice the magic on my own, but I was too new. I didn’t understand how to work with it. I was also too ashamed of what I did to my family home to return there, and too afraid to stay with any of my friends.”
I feel the urge to reach over and squeeze her hand. The pained expression that flickers across her face makes my chest ache, and despite hating pretty much everything about the situation I’m in, I like Lydia.
“I spent a few days feeling completely lost. Sleeping in bus terminals or on park benches. Nova sent Kit after me, and when he found me and offered to bring me back here, I didn’t hesitate.”
“I’m sorry you went through that,” I tell her.
“We all have different stories, but the magic we share ties us together in a sense.”
I sigh, sipping my latte. “So, basically you’re telling me to give it a shot. Wait it out even though all I want to do is hightail it out of here and bury my head in the sand.”
She’s smiling behind her mug when she says, “Basically.”
I look out at the property again before asking, “Where exactly are we?”
Lydia rests her mug on her knee. “About an hour and a half outside Atlanta.”
“Which is where?” My eyes travel the length of the front of the house. I was passed out when I arrived, so this is the first time I’m seeing the wooden cabin-style bungalow.
“A small town called Helen. There’s not much around, which works well for learning magic.”
I nod. At least I know the name of the place I’ve been taken to.
We watch the sunrise for a while, and it’s nice. It’s the only splash of normalcy I’ve experienced in the last twelve hours.
With our empty mugs and flushed cheeks, we head back into the warmth of the house. In the kitchen, Lydia starts pulling out things for breakfast.
“You want to help?” she asks, cracking an egg into a large bowl.
“Uh,” I say with a short laugh, “I don’t think you want me to help. That is, if you want the result to be edible.”
Lydia grins. “Gotcha. Feel free to hang out and watch. You may learn a thing or two.”