Hush (Witches & Warlocks Book 2) (3 page)

An old man ambles passed us, his hunched shoulders flinching with every new step he takes. He pauses as my eyes land on him. The goosebumps race up my arms and down my legs and I can’t help but shiver as he turns to face me. His eyes are big, dark, and empty. Swirling pits of nothingness. His skin hangs from his face in dried out tatters and his cheekbones - like, literally, the bones - shine in the sun like bleached rock.

“Zoe…” He says my name and his voice is distorted and seems to come from everywhere and nowhere. “I saw what you did. I see what you are.”

Noah pulls me back into his arms, wrapping one around my shoulder and hugging me tight. “Don’t look,” he says as he leads me off in the direction of the car.

The remnant - ‘cause that’s what he is, a hollow remnant, a demon - follows us, calling my name, shrieking horrible things at the back of our heads. Noah whispers reassurances to me, keeps me steady even though my entire body is trembling.

“You can hide from the truth, Zoe,” the remnant says as Noah ushers me into his car. It presses its freakshow face against the glass and his hands leave big streaking smudges down the window.  “But you can’t hide from what you are.”

Chapter Three

We don’t talk much on the car ride back to Windsor Manor. I guess that’s ok. Guilt is twisting its way through my stomach and I’m so frustrated with myself that I’m not sure I’d be very easy to talk to. I’m so torn. On one hand, I want to understand my dark magic because understanding it would make it easier to ignore. Know thy enemy and all that, right?

But it’s more than that, my dark magic isn’t really my enemy, it’s part of
me
. Doesn’t the whole quote suggest I should also know myself? I wrack my brain, distracted for a moment by my desire to remember the quote. It’s from Sun Tzu’s Art of War, I think. The gist of it is something along the lines of needing to understand the enemy as well as yourself in order to succeed.

But if the only way to understand my dark magic is to use it, well, I’m not interested. Not if it ends up with me hurting someone. And certainly not if it ends up with me
liking
it when I hurt someone. ‘Cause let’s be honest. There was a part of me that enjoyed doing what I did to Todd.

“You feeling ok?” Noah squeezes my knee and glances at me.

“No.”

“Accidents are going to happen…” He doesn’t finish his sentence and I don’t know if that’s because he’s busy judging me for the latest ‘accident’ or because he’s hoping I’ll speak up.

I make an exasperated sound in the back of my throat. Accidents. Accidents are things like spilling something on the counter or forgetting where you put your keys. Accidents don’t end up with people bleeding in a coffee shop.

Noah glances at me. “Alright, look. Did you hurt that guy? Yep. Did you kill him? Nope. Was what you did a good thing? Not really. Is it the end of the world? Not at all.”

I lean my head against the window and the cool glass presses against my forehead. It feels good for just a second until I remember the face of the remnant, pressed here just a few minutes ago. I jerk back and sigh.

“I’ve got you, Zoe.” Noah takes his eyes from the road and waits until I look his way. “It’s all going to be ok.”

I can’t help but smile, not so much because I believe him - I’m not sure what I believe right now - but more because I can’t help but smile when I look at him. From the very first moment I saw Noah, there’s been something about him, something that makes me feel safe. Seen. Wanted. It’s a good feeling.

Thing is, whenever I start feeling those things, whenever I let myself enjoy being with Noah, part of me starts to feel bad about Luke.

Which is stupid.

You don’t have to tell me, I know. I tell myself that all the time.

My entire relationship with Luke was fake. Built on lies and deception and I still have no idea why he was deceiving me. He could have been working with Becca, he could have been working for someone else, or hell, he could have had his own agenda. Whatever his reason, my feelings for him were brought on by magic. He spelled me to feel comfortable around him.

But here’s the thing, all the spells put on me by Becca, Luke, and whoever else were countered the day I checked in at Windsor Manor. By Daya herself. And she’s like, the baddest witch of us all. So, technically, my feelings for Luke - feelings that are the result of a spell - should be gone.

The fact that they’re not makes me kind of sick to my stomach. I’d like to think I was stronger than that, you know? I’d like to think I valued myself a little more. It’s not at all logical for me to still have any feelings for Luke whatsoever, but emotions don’t exactly believe in logic. I’ve got weeks of memories of wonderful times with him. Like, good times stacked on good times. They didn’t just disappear because I learned Luke was lying to me. I still remember laughing with him, talking late into the night with him … kissing him.

When it comes to Luke, I’m just woefully confused.

Noah pulls up in front of Windsor Manor. The valet’s waiting (ya, that’s right, we have a valet) to take the keys from him and park the car. Part of me wants to tell the man to wash the window, to get rid of anything the remnant left behind, but I don’t think remnants are much more than apparitions, so they don’t really have anything to actually leave behind. I shudder, remembering the bones in its cheeks, the sagging flesh...

Instead of leading me up the many stone steps that lead to Windsor’s massive front door, Noah pulls me aside. He entwines his fingers into mine and leads me around the side of the main building towards the gardens. The leaves are turning, burning bright red, yellow, and orange against the clear blue sky. Sunlight filters down, casting long, slanted shadows, so bright and warm despite the cool air.

Needless to say, the grounds here are gorgeous. The whole place is gorgeous actually. The buildings are all stately brick things, with white columns and wood floors and furniture that looks like it all belongs in some movie where women sweep into rooms wearing stately ballgowns. Windsor is set back away from the road, kind of nestled against a forest, and professional landscapers keep the gardens looking half wild, almost like they’re part of the forest.

Noah draws to a stop under one of those magnificent trees in the garden, one with red leaves, my favorite kind.  “Here’s the thing,” he says. “When I was learning how to use my magic, I had a chance to explore my dark magic as much as I explored my light magic. It took me to places I never want to go again.” He brushes a finger across my forehead and a breeze catches my hair and blows it off my shoulders.

It’s funny how even now, with me as stressed as I am, with so many questions in my head, I kind of melt at his touch. The red leaves, the wind in my hair, Noah’s proximity, it’s all working together to make me forget about what I did to Todd.

Kind of.

“But that’s the thing, how am I going to learn how to avoid my dark magic if I never learn to understand it?”

“Well, that’s the thing you see, I’m trying to save you from having to understand it.” There’s a darkness in Noah’s expression that doesn’t sit well on his face.

I sit back on my heel and give him a once over. “I’m not so sure ‘tormented by your past’ is a good look for you.” Old Zoe never would have gotten that sentence out. New Zoe does a little better. Don’t get the wrong idea, though.  I’m still nervous, waiting for him to respond. I guess a lifetime of shyness - even if it was created by a spell - creates certain automatic responses.

His lips part, and his eyes refocus, his brows do that funny scrunched together thing while he puzzles out what I just said. And then he smiles and I can’t help but smile back at him. Noah glances over his shoulder, back towards Windsor Manor, before looking at me. You know, one of those deep, ‘I see to the very bottom of your soul’ looks. He cups my face with one of his hands and I kind of lean into it, closing my eyes. The contact feels so good.

And then he puts pressure on my cheek, ever so slight, ever so gentle, as he lifts my face towards his. I loved every kiss from Noah since the first one on that night we hung out at Flannigan’s, throwing darts. That night I got my words all tangled in my head and told him the apples were good. His hand slides up into my hair while the other clutches my waist.

I slide my fingers into the belt loops on his jeans - the jeans he wears so well - and give them a little tug, bringing his hips closer to mine. And then the strangest thing happens. My magic flares to life, the tiger appearing at my side, tail swishing. The feeling is intense and beautiful and I can’t help but open my eyes. Golden light is surrounding us, this shell of energy, swirling at the edges.

“Wow,” I say, nearly whispering.

“I know.” Noah rubs his nose against mine, a gesture my mom used to call an eskimo kiss. “Those apples are good.”

I laugh. “Hey! I can’t be held responsible for the things I say when I’m nervous!” I try to pull back, but his arms are tight around my waist, keeping me close.

“You don’t seem nervous now.” He’s leaning in close again, his lips brushing mine as he speaks.

“No. Definitely not nervous now.” My words are a whisper.

And then his lips are on mine again and in this instant all worries about light and dark magic and learning to understand myself, those all dissipate and it’s just us, Zoe and Noah, and it’s good. Like, really good.

My magic expands, and as I kiss Noah, I hear birds swinging and squirrels flitting through trees. I hear leaves dancing in the wind. I feel the wind in my hair and the grass tickling my ankle, but most importantly, I feel my magic entwining with his magic. My essence twisting around his. I open my eyes and pull away, sighing.

Noah bends forward to press his forehead to mine. “We’re gonna get through this, you know.”

“You keep saying that and I might believe you one day.”

Noah grabs my hand and gives it a little tug. “Here, follow me, I want to show you something.”

Casting another furtive glance over his shoulder, he leads me into the forest. We keep walking until the view of Windsor Manor is obscured by trees. For as purposefully wild as the gardens are, this place is genuinely wild, untouched by human hands. They leave it this way for the witches who find their power best in natural spots. We pick our way through the underbrush, ducking under branches that somehow manage to scratch my skin anyway, until Noah comes to a stop at small stream. There’s a break in the trees, and light to falls down onto the moss covered rocks and glints off the water.

It’s gorgeous, but I’m not sure why we’re here. I shoot him a questioning look and he gestures for me to wait. The silence here is pristine, just water burbling over rocks, birds calling to each other in the trees, somehow, it feels wrong to speak. There’s a dry rock right by the water’s edge. It’s huge and flat and the perfect place to sit. My tiger curls up beside me, and we wait for whatever it is he wants to show me.

Noah crouches near the stream and starts chanting an incantation under his breath. I can only barely hear what he’s saying, and might have missed it completely if I wasn’t so in tune with his magic. He waves his hands over the water and sits back, smiling triumphantly.

The little glinting flashes of gold where the sun streaks into the water begin lifting up into the air. They twist and spiral around each other, a dance of light upon water, undulating and hypnotic. It might be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I’m aware of movement beside me, a kiss pressed into my hairline.

“Enjoy it, Zoe. Let it soothe you.” And then Noah stands and heads back towards the Manor, leaving me alone. I lose myself in the light dancing in the air, leaning back on my hands and smiling. When I finally come to, the light is gone as the sun has dipped below the horizon line and I feel so. much. better. Like maybe everything's going to be ok, just like Noah says it will.

I wander back towards the Manor, feeling more relaxed than I have in days. I’ll throw myself into tomorrow’s classes. It’s probably best if I never actually understand my dark magic. Save myself the trouble of going through all the regret that comes from having done bad things. I’m busy humming to myself, content in my decision to devote myself to light magic, when my phone buzzes on the table by my bed.

That’s really strange. I don’t get texts. Not anymore. I haven’t seen Becca since the summit and, well, the same goes for Luke, and that about sums up the total amount of people who’ve ever texted me. Curiosity on fire, I pick up my phone. My stomach drops and my heart leaps when I see who it’s from.

Luke.

I need to see you. Meet me? I want to explain.

I should tell him to fuck off. I should tell him to go to hell because I don’t want to hear his explanation. I should tell him I don’t care and I’m better without him.

‘Should’ is a stupid word. I pick up the phone and type out a response:

Where do you wanna meet?

Chapter Four

I toss and turn all night, haunted by thoughts of Luke twisting up with thoughts of Noah, all jangled up with the big bad question of how to handle my dark magic. Do I explore it or ignore it? When my alarm goes off at five thirty, I am
so
not ready. My eyes are all bleary and heavy and don’t want to open at all. I swing my feet off the bed and lean over, elbows on knees, head in hands.

It’s a big day. Daya has me scheduled out in the garden, practicing my healing magic. Alone. Usually, when they have me using any magic at all, I have to have someone with me. I guess I’ve proved myself or something. I can’t help but wonder if they’d let me out there, off leash and all, if Noah had reported what happened at the coffee shop with Todd.