After the epic failure at Remington’s, I spend the following morning in bed. I’m at a loss. I can read Dad’s book over and over again, but it’s not going to give me the answers I need to get through this.
Lydia snuck into my room last night after I got back from my “studying session” and sat on the end of my bed while I told her what went down. As much as I hadn’t wanted anyone to know what I was up to, it was nice to have someone to vent to—and Kit wasn’t an option. He would flip if he knew where I went instead of the café.
I roll onto my back and sigh at the ceiling. Drumming my fingers on my stomach, it growls in response. I guess I’ll have to get out of bed eventually and eat something.
It takes more effort than I care to admit to haul myself out of the comfort of my blankets and shuffle into the kitchen. In the fridge, I find the fixings for an egg salad sandwich, and when I close the door, Kit is standing there. His eyes are filled with concern, which really doesn’t help my overall mood, so I turn away from him without a word and start building my sandwich.
“You shut yourself in your room when you got back last night,” he says, standing on the other side of the kitchen. “You want to tell me what’s going on with you?”
I stir the egg salad mixture in a bowl before spooning some onto the bread. “Not really. It doesn’t matter anyway.”
“I can see you’re upset.”
“Yeah, well, there’s nothing anyone here can do about it, so I’m not sure what else there is to say.” That was harsh. I set the spoon in the sink before turning to Kit. “I’m sorry. I know you’re trying everything you can.”
His hands are shoved into the pockets of his jeans. “Not everything.”
I frown. “What are you talking about?”
He nods toward my sandwich. “Eat that, then we’ll talk.”
After lunch, I follow Kit out to the mausoleum.
“What are we doing in here?” I ask him, tugging the sleeves of my heavy sweater down to cover my hands. Gloves would’ve been a smart idea.
“Before I tell you, I need you to know that I’m only doing this because it is the very last resort. The Elders periodically check in on facilities like what Nova is running to ensure proper teaching methods are being used. They are unscheduled visits, but I caught wind from a friend of mine that they’ll be stopping at our place soon, and I had to make sure you would be safe.”
The color drains from my face as my pulse kicks up. “What does that mean?” My voice wavers, and I hate how weak it sounds.
Kit steps toward me and grips my shoulders, firm but not in a way that hurts. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Em.”
I open my mouth to respond, to ask him how he plans to make sure of that, but I don’t get the chance.
“Don’t lie to the poor girl, Kit the cat.” Remington appears in the doorway of the mausoleum and leans against the stone. The candles around the room flare to life with inky black flames, filling the space with heat and an ominous glow.
“What are you doing here?” I snap at him.
Remington rolls his eyes, and the candles return to normal. “Put the claws away,” he mutters dryly before shifting his gaze to Kit. “You didn’t tell her?”
“You have the worst timing,” Kit mutters. Then he says, “Emery, you were right. No one at Nova’s can help you with your magic. Not in the way you need.”
“He’s right. They won’t be able to help you, little bird.” Remington adds.
“I’ll take my chances,” I shoot back. It’s not what I want, but I’ll be damned if I let him have the satisfaction of hearing me say that I . . . need him.
He arches a brow. “You really don’t want to make it out of this alive, do you?”
I cross my arms. “What are you doing here, Remington?”
His lips twist into a smirk. “Hmm,” he hums, “I love the sound of my name on your lips.”
“Enough,” Kit says in a sharp tone, then focuses on me. “I asked him to come. Clearly, it was a mistake.”
My eyes widen. “Uh, you think?”
“Hurtful,” Remington cuts in with a mock pout.
“Are you going to take this seriously?” Kit grumbles, his face tingeing with red as he glares at Remington.
“Uh, probably not. Where’s the fun in that?”
Kit closes his eyes as if he’s attempting to calm himself. “I’m sorry, Em. I should’ve known this was a bad idea.” He shakes his head. “Let’s just go. We’ll figure something else out.”
Remington laughs. “Good luck with that. She needs me, and you hate that she needs me.” His voice is smug, and his eyes glimmer with arrogance. He’s asking to get punched in the face.
I open my mouth to shut that down, but Kit beats me to it.
“The hell she does,” he growls. “I was wrong to ask you here. You are the absolute last thing she needs.”
He smirks. “That’s not true, Kit the cat, and you know it.”
“Okay,” I rush to say, stepping between in an attempt to diffuse the tension. Facing Kit, I meet his gaze, my eyes pleading with him. “You were right. As much as we both hate it, he’s the only one who knows how my magic works.” I lower my voice. “I don’t know what you had to offer to get him here, but I’m thankful you care for me so much that you did.” Does that mean I’m happy about Remington being here? Hell no. After last night, the last thing I want is to be left alone with him.
Worried you’ll kiss him again?
I shove that thought away. I want to learn my magic. If working with Remington is the compromise I have to make in order for that to happen, I’ll just have to endure it.
Kit’s brows furrow. “Emery—”
“I’ll meet you back at the house in an hour.” He doesn’t need to be here for this, and I have a feeling it would be a lot harder to focus with him watching like a hawk.
His jaw clenches, but he keeps his eyes on me. “No. There is no way I’m leaving you alone with him.”
I press my lips together, praying to any god who will listen that Remington doesn’t bring up last night. “Kit.”
He opens his mouth as if he’s going to argue, but at the last minute, he snaps it shut and glares at Remington. “You hurt her in any way, and you won’t have to worry about the Elders. I’ll kill you myself.”
I frown at his back as he walks away.
“Do you think he ever gets tired of being so high and mighty?”
I jump at the sound of Remington’s voice way too close to my ear, whirling around to face him. Big mistake. We’re practically nose-to-nose. His breath tickles my cheek and smells faintly of oranges.
I take a healthy step back. “Do you ever get tired of being so annoying?”
The corner of his mouth kicks up. “Nope. Especially considering how much I know you secretly enjoy it.”
I cross my arms, pinning him with a glare. “Oh, good. So you’re annoying and delusional.”
Remington drags a hand through his hair, chuckling silently. “We only have an hour. I’m more than happy to continue bantering with you, though I imagine you’d like to learn something in our time together.”
When it’s clear he’s waiting for me to answer, I nod. “Can I ask you something, and can you promise to answer honestly?”
He purses his lips, considering. “Hmm, yes and no.”
Annoyance flickers through me. “God, do you have to be so infuriating?”
Remington tips his head to the side. “That’s your question?”
“No.” Dropping my hands to my sides, I breathe out a sigh. “Why are you helping me? Is it because you think I’ll give up my magic still, and you want it to be more useful when I do?”
He looks at me, his amused expression smoothing into one that could almost be mistaken as thoughtful. He steps toward me again, and this time, I don’t move away. “Does it really matter? We both have reasons for doing this.”
I arch a brow. “That’s a non-answer if I ever heard one.”
Remington grins. “You’ve already made up your mind about me, little bird. With Kit’s help, I’m sure, but all the same. I’m not here to change that.”
“I haven’t—” I start to disagree, but stop myself. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I did write him off as the bad guy because of Kit. Well, that, and because of what he did to my friends, and the fact that he wants to steal my magic to make himself more powerful. You know, typical villain stuff. “Fine. Maybe I have . . . or had. I don’t know. You are very confusing.”
“Why? Because I keep you guessing? Because you never know what I’m going to do next?”
“Uh, yeah. Pretty much.”
His grin remains. “Come on. Let’s practice some evil and corrupt magic before I send you back to Saint Kit.” Bitterness weaves its way through his voice, and I wonder if I’ll ever work up the nerve to ask one of them why they have such a burning hatred for one another. Certainly, it must have to do with more than just different magic.
“Tell me what you’ve learned on your own so I have an idea of where to start.”
I tap my hands against my thighs, a little unsure how to handle his sudden change in tone. I’m not used to the serious, non-arrogant version of Remington.
“Well, I’ve been reading my father’s book,” I tell him, and he nods. “A lot of it is just ramblings about spells, but not the actual spells themselves. There were some, though, but I’m not sure I want to delve into a lot of them.”
His chin dips slightly, and his eyes hold a curious light. “Do you have the book with you? I’d be interested to read what he had to say.”
“No.” I’m glad it’s hidden in the dresser in my room at Nova’s, because the idea of putting it into Remington’s hands makes my chest tighten.
“Hmm, that’s too bad.”
I nod, wetting my lips before giving him the rundown on what I’ve read. “After struggling to learn the elemental stuff with no success, the feeling of my magic actually working . . . it made me feel more powerful than I ever thought possible.”
“Be careful, little bird. Working with dark magic—it can be very addicting.”
I push my fingers through my unruly curls to move them out of my face. “I don’t understand. Are you trying to talk me out of this?”
His smile is faint. “I’m just trying to make sure you have all of the information before making a choice.” He touches my forearm, and the crackle of energy warms my skin. It doesn’t shock me as much anymore. In fact, it’s oddly pleasant. Something else I need to be careful of. “It’s your choice, Emery.”
My breath catches, and I meet his gaze. It’s soft and focused solely on me. “I want to learn.”
“Then congratulations. You just upgraded mentors.”
I roll my eyes. “You are such an asshole to Kit.”
The amusement in his eyes fades. “Yeah. I’m awful. This isn’t news, Emery.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I shoot him a dry look. “Right, but you’re not always.” My voice lowers, almost as if I’m afraid to say what comes out next. “Not with me.”
Remington cocks his head to the side, studying me. “Don’t read into it. Whatever I do serves my own purposes. Get that twisted, and you’ll be sorry.”
I blink at him, my lips parted slightly. “You don’t scare me, Remington.”
He moves closer, and his breath stirs the hair at my temple. Lifting his hand to my face, he grips my chin between his fingers. “No?” His eyes search mine. “Why do you think that is?”
I chew my lip. “I don’t know. Probably a little stupidity on my part. Though, you haven’t hurt me yet. Sure, it’s because you want something from me, but I figure so long as that’s true, I’m safe.”
His eyes darken as they drop to my mouth. “That’s a mistake.” His voice is low and gravelly.
“Oh well,” I murmur, shrugging.
He just stares at me for a few beats. “You are—”
I shift away from him. “Are you going to teach me something or what? I don’t have all day.”
Remington chuckles. “What do you want to learn?”
I purse my lips, thinking about it for a moment. “What’s the coolest thing you can do?”
He arches a brow at me. “Define ‘cool.’ Because I have a feeling your definition is very different from mine.”
I almost pout. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. This magic is unlike anything you’ve dealt with before. Those parlor tricks you’ve been taught are worthless.”
“I know that,” I snap. “But I did something one time . . . with fire. When I thought I had earth magic. I tried to extinguish the flames with dirt. I thought it was working, but when I opened my eyes, the flames were black.”
Remington doesn’t look surprised. Curious, maybe, but that’s about it. “Your magic can manifest in different ways. That was likely less of anything you did and more of the magic trying to exist outside of you.”
“You make it sound like a monster.”
“It can be, which is why if you don’t know how to deal with it, it does have the power to hurt you—or worse.”
I nod. “Is this the part where you tell me how much easier things would be if I just gave you my magic so I wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore?”
He smirks. “Sure, little bird. It’s true, but I won’t repeat something you already know. I’d like to save my breath for something more important.”
My eyes widen. “Are you . . . coming on to me?”
Remington laughs. “Not in the slightest.” He leans in until his lips are level with my ear. “There would be no question in your mind if I was. Trust me.”
A flush spreads across my chest, and I fight the urge to back away. My pulse is thrumming beneath my skin, and my stomach is a mess of nerves.
He leans back and looks into my eyes. “Would you like that?”
My mouth dries right up, and I swallow hard. “I . . . Are you joking?”
“Sure.”
I can’t get a read on him, and it’s threatening to drive me insane.
“Whatever game you’re playing, I don’t want to be a part of it. I don’t trust you, and—”
“You don’t trust me, or you don’t trust yourself around me?” He regards me with a thoughtful expression, a dark strand of hair falling into his face.
“What’s it matter?” I ask without thinking.
Remington shrugs. “I suppose it doesn’t. I was just curious.”
“Well, quit it. And start helping me, or you may as well leave.”
“And then where would you be?”
“I’m not doing this with you.” I keep my voice level, refusing to bait him anymore.
He holds his hands up in defeat. “All right, all right. What should we start with?” he muses aloud, tapping his finger against his lips.
“Something I won’t screw up?” I offer.
“Perhaps we should start with a cloaking spell,” he suggests with a devilish grin.
“Funny,” I deadpan as I lean against one of the massive cement boxes.
He tries to hide his grin by pressing his lips together. “Okay, only seriousness from now on.”
I arch a brow, not believing that for a second. “Fine. I want to learn what you did at the café the other day. With the alternate reality or whatever.”
“That isn’t really an easy spell to start with. It was actually a combination of a few different ones.”
“I’m a quick study,” I argue. “At least show me how to change what I’m seeing.”
He opens his mouth, but rethinks that choice and closes it. He nods again. “Let’s give it a shot.” Remington walks around the small space, shrugging off his leather jacket to reveal a long-sleeved, tight-fitting shirt. My shoulders tense when I realize I’m staring at his chest.
He catches me, his eyes noting my posture as he walks closer. “You need to relax if you want this to work.”
“That’s not exactly easy to do around you.”
Remington touches my shoulder. “I’m not going to hurt you, Emery. I need you to trust me right now. We want the same thing, which is for you to gain control of your magic and advance your abilities.”
I exhale, closing my eyes in an attempt to concentrate.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, pulling his hand away. “Now, picture what you want to see. It helps if it’s somewhere you’re familiar with.”
I keep my eyes shut, cringing as I ask, “I’m not going to, like, teleport there or something by accident, am I?”
He chuckles. “No.”
“Well, I don’t know!”
“Just try it,” he suggests, and I’m surprised not to hear any arrogance or amusement in his voice. He’s actually taking this seriously.
I clench my hands into fists for a moment before opening them, trying to release the tension through my upper body, then take a deep breath to center myself. The first place that comes to mind is the living room at home. Not Nova’s, but the house I grew up in—my home. I concentrate on what I recall most about the space—the warmth and comfort I feel when I’m there. It’s a safe space. I picture holidays spent in this room, opening gifts on Christmas morning with my mom, and weekend movie nights eating pizza and way too much junk food with Lana and Jessa. The smell of Mom’s cinnamon apple candle tickles my nose, and I suck in a breath, keeping my eyes closed. I’m too scared to open them.
“Don’t be afraid.” Remington’s voice is soft. “Open your eyes, Emery.”
After a moment of hesitation, I blow out a breath and slowly open them, blinking a few times as the room focuses. “Oh my god,” I whisper, turning to face him. We’re standing in the wide archway into the living room. My gaze bounces around the room, recognizing each detail until it comes back to Remington. He’s watching me.
“I’m doing this?” I ask in a low voice, worried he’s going to reveal that he’s actually the one making the room appear around us.
He tilts his head to the side, searching my face. “I’m not doing anything, little bird,” he assures me.
“Holy crap.” I breathe out a laugh. “This is incredible. It feels so real.” I shake my head, still wrapping my head around the fact that I did this.
“You’re manipulating the space we’re in,” he explains. “But you’re also manipulating what you and I are seeing. It would become more difficult if there were more people, but like anything, the more you practice, the easier it will come to you.”
“You’re saying that I’m manipulating your mind?”
He nods. “I’m allowing it, but yes.”
I arch a brow at him, and the scene around us blurs a little. “What do you mean, allowing it?”
“Exactly that. I’ve been at this longer than you. I could interrupt your magic at any time with my own.”
“Nice brag,” I say without thinking.
His lips twitch. “For most people, though, they wouldn’t even notice it. They wouldn’t know how to guard their mind against your magic because they don’t know it exists.”
“That seems unfair,” I comment.
“That’s life. It’s also one of the many reasons our magic is not approved by the Elders.”
“I mean, I can sort of understand that. Kit and the others can control the elements, but we can control—”
“Everything.” He shrugs, glancing around the room. “I’m assuming this is your home.”
I follow his gaze. “Yeah.”
“Cute.”
I roll my eyes. “Is there more?”
Remington’s gaze shifts back to me. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. Can we interact with the objects around us?”
Shaking his head, he says, “What you’re managing now is surface-level magic. The things you see aren’t really here.” He nods toward the staircase. “If you tried to go upstairs, you’d likely walk into a stone wall. We’re still in the mausoleum.”
“It just looks so real.”
He inhales slowly, then blinks, and the room vanishes, leaving us standing back in the candle-lit stone room. His eyes dance across my face, and when our gazes lock, he says, “Appearances can be deceiving.”
“How poetic of you,” I mutter, glancing at one of the candles. The wax has melted significantly; I didn’t realize how much time had actually passed. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but how did I do?”
The corner of his mouth curves into a slow grin. “Huh. Not bad for a rookie, I guess.”
My eyes narrow, and I immediately regret asking. “Why do you have to be so—”
“Handsome?” he offers, tilting his head to the side. “Charming?” He leans in close, and I hold my breath. “Downright—”
“Infuriating,” I cut in, pushing my fist against his stomach in an attempt to put space between us. I’m met with hard resistance, and my eyes fly to his, but he’s staring at my mouth.
“I can’t stop thinking about what your lips would taste like if I kissed you right now.”
“Peppermint,” I blurt. Yep. Pretty sure my brain has short-circuited.
His brow quirks as he flicks his tongue over his bottom lip. “Is that so?”
“It’s lip balm,” I mumble. Oh god. I need to stop talking.
His eyes sparkle with amusement. “Yeah?” He holds my gaze as if he’s waiting for me to say something, but I’ve got nothing. “Come on,” he says. “You should head home before Kit comes looking for you.”
I open my mouth to . . . what, thank him? It feels like an odd thing to do, considering he likely only did it for his own gain. He must truly believe I’ll hand over my magic one of these days.
“It’s okay,” he says, “you don’t have to say it. You don’t trust me, and that’s fine.” He dips his face closer to mine, lowering his voice as if he’s all of a sudden concerned about being overheard—in a mausoleum. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of what you accomplished today, and you should be too.”
I stare at him despite the growing urge to look away. His gaze makes my skin tingle in ways that have me questioning why on earth I’m drawn to him. Can I chalk it up to a side effect of having the same magic? Probably not, but it’d be easier to have something that’s out of my control to blame for my ridiculous attraction to Remington.
He pulls away, and I drag air into my lungs while he grabs his jacket and shrugs it on as we walk out of the mausoleum together.
I get back to Nova’s just in time to sit down for dinner. Lydia made a roast that smells amazing and has my stomach growling before I can get my jacket off. Everyone is already at the table when I walk in, and my eyes go to Kit. He’s looking at me with one brow raised. I offer a faint smile and nod at him.
“Hey,” Lydia says as I sit in what has become my normal place at the table. “Where have you been?”
Nerves unfurl in my stomach. “Oh, um, I was just doing some training.”
Realization flickers across her face as she pauses in the mashed potatoes mid-scoop.
“But Kit was here,” Zoe says.
“Right.” My eyes flick toward where Nova is sitting at the head of the table, his eyes on me. He nods once, and I take that as permission to tell the others about my magic. “Kit is no longer my mentor.”
“Why not?” Zoe asks, and I ignore the excitement in her eyes. She really wants Kit to herself.
Without preamble, I say, “Because I’m not an elemental Wielder.”
Lydia sinks into her chair, staring at the plate in front of her without saying a word. She’s known about my magic for a few days, but it seems as though she’s shocked I just put it out in the open.
“What the hell, Nova?” Zoe snaps, turning a glare on him. “You’ve been harboring a dark Wielder? How long have you known about this and put us all at risk?” she demands.
Nova’s expression remains impassive as he regards her. “I knew about her magic when I brought her here.”
She drops her fork onto her plate, vibrating with anger. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“Easy, Zoe,” Mason says with a strained expression, shifting in his seat and looking to Nova as if he wants to trust his decision, but this is too much.
“I didn’t know about my magic—my real magic—until I went home for Thanksgiving. I had a feeling something was off, but it wasn’t until that trip that it was confirmed. Since then, I’ve been trying to learn it.”
“Are you crazy?” Zoe chimes in, her eyes wide. “The Elders will punish all of us if they find her here.”
My jaw clenches as bile rises in my throat. The thought of putting anyone here at risk because Nova is protecting his dead best friend’s daughter . . . I can’t carry the weight of that. “I should leave,” I say in a low voice.
“What?” Lydia’s voice is filled with a mix of sadness and confusion.
“Zoe’s right. If that’s a possibility, then it’s not fair for me to stay. My magic shouldn’t pose a risk to any of you.”
“You’re not leaving,” Nova’s tone is final. “I made a promise, and I intend to keep it.”
“What?” Zoe snaps. “Are—” Nova holds up a hand, and she stops talking. Scowling at me, she shoves away from the table and storms out of the room. A few seconds later, her bedroom door slams shut.
“Nova—” I start.
“We will discuss this after dinner,” he tells me before scanning the rest of the Wielders at the table. “If anyone has anything they would like to say, you may do so once we’ve eaten.”
The rest of the meal is silent.
I push food around my plate, my appetite having vanished since telling the truth. Once Kit, Nova, and I are the only ones at the table, I set my fork aside. “I can’t stay. It’s not safe—for anyone.” Now that I’m working on my magic, getting a better handle on it, I should go home. If leaving Nova’s means the rest of Wielders under his roof are safe from the Elders’ judgment, it seems like the best option at this point—the only option, really.
“I promised your father I would protect you no matter the cost. It’s not something I would do for anyone else, but you are an exception.”
I swallow past the dryness in my throat. “Why?”
He almost smiles. “When you were born, he and your mother asked me to be your guardian—after Holly, of course. We may not be related by blood, but the day your parents asked me to take care of you, you became family.”
My eyes burn. “So you should understand why I need to go.”
“We can find another way,” Kit says.
“No.” My tone is firm. “I appreciate what you both have done for me, even if it took me a while to get on board with the whole magic thing, but this needs to be my decision.” I stand, glancing between them. “The Elders have taken enough from me. I won’t let them have the satisfaction of finding me here.” I take my plate to the kitchen and give them one last look. “I’m leaving in the morning.”