Magick (The Unwanted Series Book 1) (4 page)

She looks at my father and grins. “See, did you see? Are you going to deny her? Unbind her at once!”

My father leans forward and unleashes that deep commanding voice. “Sabine, you have no authority here, this is my daughter and you came here to trigger an event. It’s all about you and your political power trips. Are you scared she might deny you?” He pushes back and stands from the table to continue his rant.

Mrs. Scott is walking down the hall and turns right around, upon seeing my father.

This is ludicrous. What is she talking about, unbinding me? He’s accusing her of something?

Flash. It’s blinding, I shield my eyes. The light is gone.

I’m in the dark woods with mother, she is touching my face. Her familiar dark blonde hair reaches her shoulders in waves. Her dark blue eyes sparkle, her smile is reassuring. Her hands are touching me, warm, soft and loving.

“Stay here, sweetheart. It will be okay.”

I nod.

I blink and I feel my eyes swelling with tears. I just heard my mother’s voice! I haven’t seen or heard her since that night, I had forgotten her voice.

The flash is gone. I’m back in the dining room.

I fidget in my seat, then stand, overwhelmed. It’s building, that uncontrollable part of me. I shake all over. It feels like a loud hum.

“Willow.” My father brings my attention back to him. “As strange as it sounds, everything you are doubting is true, from magick to royalty. After the accident, I used magick to take away the memories of that horrific event. I also removed your memory of our heritage and extended family as a safety precaution.”

I hear what my dad is saying. I’m his little girl, caught in his shadow, hoping to make him proud and awaiting his grin of approval. This time, however, all I can do is gape at him, while tears escape my eyes.

“Is that what Sabine is talking about, unbinding? I’m bound?”

He’s standing in front of me. “Yes,” he replies, reaching for me.

I move away from the table, and from him. “Don’t! I don’t want to be unbound, then.”

Sabine mouth hinges open.

“I don’t want what you’re saying! Keep it. I don’t have to accept it, do I?” I’m still shaking. I clasp my hands into fists at my side to steady myself.

My father’s eyes look worried. “No, you don’t. But your magick will beat on the surface and build. Your mother and I are from particular family blood lines, and your choices will be irrelevant. Magick will come.”

Irrelevant? No choice. No choice. The words ring over and over in my head. My father and Sabine are talking to me and moving toward me but I can’t hear them. My anger builds, the static electricity moves over my body and down my arms, filling my clutched hands.

No choice. No choice. No choice.

I’m shaking more now, and the electricity is compounding shocking my arms. It hurts, but I bear the pain of stabbing needles into my skin, the pain is real in this chaos. Sabine is no longer moving toward me, but retreating. She should. She brought it. It’s her fault. No choice. Did she hear me? She looks scared.

My vision lands on my dad, my father — the man who lied to me! Protected me. Kept me the in the dark. Loved and provided for me. His hands are up and he is chanting something, his eyes filled with tears.

Not my dad. Cry? Oh, this is bad.

The detachment hurts, it rips my soul. He’s my dad. I hear my mother’s yell of my name echo in my head from far away. She isn’t here. The energy is released, and my scream echoes through the house. The dining room bows, the windows shatter all while I fall to the floor. My dad catches me. Another man — dressed like a warrior, fuzzy to my vision — is coming. Darkness engulfs me.

Chapter Five

T
he cold, crisp artificial air blows onto my arms. I’m struggling to wake up fully when I hear: “Okay, Sleeping Beauty, time to rise and shine before the warden makes her way in here.”

I open my eyes slowly and look at the white walls and beige tile surroundings. Emily is sitting across from me in a twin bed, dressed in jeans and a plain white t-shirt. Her short cropped hair is messy, as usual.

“Where are we?” I ask, sitting up. My eyes still refusing to completely work. I rub them and focus more on Emily.

She gives me a funny smirk. Before she can answer, there’s a knock at the door and Dr. Bauche enters the room. She tucks her long, wavy hair behind her ear. Her composure is graceful as she stands at the end of the room in front of the window. The soft light surrounds her in an ethereal effect that has me tongue-tied.

“How are you feeling today, Willow?” She asks.

Emily announces her departure and is out the door before I can exhale. I watch her leave and want to go with my friend. What am I doing here in the first place? Why would Emily be here?

As if reading my mind, Dr. Bauche says, “Willow, we’ve been through this before. You know where you are.” She taps on an iPad and scrolls. “I’m more concerned about the outburst at dinner.”

Dinner? I don’t… I shuffle back toward the headboard of the bed I’m sitting in. It suddenly floods my brain — Dinner. Sabine. Magick. Royalty.

A vision flashes before me of Sabine crying and hugging me. She is dressed in all black and she tells me how much she loves me. We are at a funeral. It’s my mother’s funeral, because I see my arm in a cast. It’s the only time I broke any bones. I’m not here, I’m somewhere else. I shake my head to clear it and I’m back in the small white room.

Dr. Bauche’s demeanor changes as she sits down on the bed next to me.

“You had an outburst that wasn’t coherent. The staff on last night had to sedate you. Instead of being in confinement, I recommended your shared quarters.”

She waits for me, but all I can do is look at my hands, remembering a blue light. Thinking about my mother’s funeral and meeting her mother, my grandmother. She continues, “Something about a grandmother and Wicca?”

I look around the room, stalling. Did she just read my mind? Oh no, it’s what I dreaded and now I’m here. I’m at a psych treatment center. How did Emily end up here, too? She wasn’t there at dinner. The hypnosis with Dr. Evan, it’s causing visions. Is this a vision?

“Is Dr. Evan here?”

She is searching me over in an evaluating way that makes me uncomfortable. She must notice.

“I don’t know a Dr. Evan. Is he your internist?”

I stammer my words confused. “No, no I started seeing him a few weeks back at your practice. He’s a new doctor there.” I need him, he needs to help explain this. The visions that keep popping up and the regressive treatment therapy. I don’t need to be in a treatment center.

“Willow, we can meet at our regular session time today. I’m not aware of any Dr. Evan.” She stands. “You can go to group, but first take your meds.” She hands me a small paper cup filled with three pills.

I look at the cup and then at her. She nods to the sink, where there is a drinking glass.

“What are these for?”

“I just need you to take them Willow, it’s part of your therapy regime while your here.”

I stand and walk toward the sink hesitantly, thinking about how not to take these pills. My therapy regime is crap. That regression therapy, last night. I’m not taking these pills. She watches me take the pills and drink the water. I have to show her my open mouth and move my tongue to show I’m not holding pills hostage.

Where’s the trust?

I grip the pills in my left hand, where I slipped them next to my water glass. Score.

Dr. Bauche quietly leaves, satisfied.

I study the pills in my hand and decide to keep them. I open a door next to Emily’s bed, and it’s a full bathroom. I go across, back to my side, and open the door to find a closet with clothes and shoes. My clothes are recognizable, especially my favorite hoodie. I put the pills in the sleeve, where there’s a hidden pocket. I get refreshed and open my room’s door to a bare white hallway. I feel like an escapee and I’m lost. I need an exit sign over a door.

I hear laughing to my left and walk to a room named Yellow Brick Road. Several teens are lounging around in beanbags, on sofa sectionals, and on floor pods. I see Emily in the far corner. The counselor acknowledges me, and I sit over by Emily.

“We need to talk,” I whisper to her.

“I know; this is some crazy.” She is distracted, looking at a guy sitting across the room in ripped jeans and a black t-shirt with a gray hoodie. His long, messy hair falls forward on his face, and his arms are folded. He almost looks asleep, until he speaks. His voice is soothing and deep.

“I’m not going to talk today, so let’s move it along.” He says.

The guy running the group looks very irritated and replies. “Theon, that’s not going to move you forward on an outpatient basis. You have to put in the work.”

He settles back in his beanbag chair, and the counselor turns his stool to me.

“So, Willow, did you find your triggering point?”

I look at Emily, who is still looking at Theon. Most in the room are looking and paying attention to other things besides me, except the counselor.

“My triggering point? I don’t really…”

“From yesterday’s activities? I observed that there is a trigger with your family. There is anger. A lot of anger.”

Him mentioning my family an accusing anger, heats up my face. I don’t know who he is and how he knows anything about me or my family.

“Sure, I think most teens will say that — it’s not unique.”

A few kids sitting to the left affirm my statement. Emily half-heartedly laughs.

“Yes, that is certainly true in the general sense. However, none of you are here in the general sense. There has been acting out that either hurt yourself or others, which brought you here. The time here is to teach you with how to control those triggers and behaviors.”

I take a sharp inhale. Did I hurt someone?

Emily pushes out her chest forward. “Those actions make me, me! Are you trying to change me, Brad?” She drags out his name mockingly.

He smiles, unmoved by the outburst.

“No, not change in the sense you’re assuming, but being aware of your impact on yourself and your surroundings is necessary.”

Flipping her hand dismissively at him she says, “I’m totally aware.”

Theon stands up and looks to have a small grin under all that hair. He also looks like he has two bumps on the top of his head. His hoodie is covering it up.

“Theon, ready to share?”

“Uh, no, it’s time to go.” He says in his smooth voice.

“Ah, lunch time,” Brad confirms, looking like he’s happy it’s over, too.

Everyone stands up, and leaves the room. I walk with Emily down the hallway.

“What is going on?” I ask.

“I’m not sure — but it’s your party, so I’m just along for the ride.” She claps me on the back.

“My party?”

We turn the corner and followed the line that is entering a small cafeteria. Emily stops me and guides me to an open door on the left. It’s a storage closet.

“Listen, we can continue to play psychoanalysis rehab if you want, or you can get on with it.”

What the hell is she talking about? I’m in process of asking when she holds her hand up and cuts me off.

Her eyes determined and serious. “You’re tougher than you think, or we wouldn’t be such great friends. You need to snap out of it, Will.” She snaps her fingers. “You, me — we don’t belong here in your head.”

“My head?”

“Ask yourself why you’d have me here, besides the fact that I’m awesome. I do what?” Her eyebrow raises.

I search and say the natural response: “Tell it like it is?”

She nods.

Ding ding ding. I’m winning the fair prize if I can just complete the puzzle.

“Why would I…”

“Don’t focus on the why, focus on the get out of your way task. You think too hard and long about stuff, and sometimes you just gotta do and move forward.” She looks around real quick and adds, “although, great job bringing that demon Theon here. At least it was worth my time.”

She’s becoming translucent. I reach to touch her hand, and she chuckles at me. My hand passes through hers. I’m starting to fade, along with everything else in my head. I’m home, in my bed and…

“Bravo, Wills. See you soon.”

Emily is gone. I hear footsteps coming closer to the closet. I close my eyes and release my clenched jaw. Relaxing my shoulders fall forward and I stay like that. With the turn of the doorknob, I’m gone.

Chapter Six

“
W
illow, sweetheart, wake up.”

The bed dips, and I know it’s my father sitting down. I’m home. There’s something about that word, home. Home can mean different things, but for me, it means stability, a constant, and in my changing world, it’s a necessity.

I blink at the bright light. Remembering the weird dream with Emily. My father turns off the lamp on my nightstand next to the bed.

“Hey, you’re home?” I ask, slowly sitting up.

“Of course I am. Do you remember last night?”

I sit up and see he’s in casual clothes: jeans and a long-sleeved dark green cotton shirt.

“Yes, I do. Is Sabine still here?” I ask, rubbing my eyes of sleep.

“No, it’s just us. Mrs. Scott is out today; she’ll be back this evening. It’s best if we take the time to talk.”

“What about school and—”

“I already spoke to Lucy and the school.” He swallows and looks at his hands. “I’m sure you have questions. We need to prepare for the High Coven and your coronation.”

I couldn’t help but cringe at the word coronation. Me, a girl who has tripped up the stairs on a regular basis. A girl who knows nothing about how to preside or rule, or whatever the heck it’s all about. Is this something I really have to do? I want to go back to sleep and just veg out and forget all of this. I know I can’t, I feel the hum of the magick in my veins, it’s only going to get worse.

Duke pushes his nose in through the open door and jumps up on the bed. His tail wags, and both my father and I pet him. It’s as if the silent moment we share will be one of the last normal things we do.

He breaks the silence in a soft, unassuming voice. “Come down when you’re ready. Mrs. Scott made French toast that I’m sure even I can heat up.”