Magick (The Unwanted Series Book 1) (8 page)

Rhydian steps in front of me and halts me. “Tell me how you know a Valkyrie? I saw her acknowledge you.”

I start to chuckle, but his eyes are serious. “Emily’s been my friend for over three years. She’s just Emily, I don’t even know what a Valkyrie is.”

“A Valkyrie is a chooser of the heroic slain warriors, were they turn immortal as einherjar, that fight under Valkyrie command. They’ve been around since before old times through the Norse plane, before it was destroyed. Typically, when you see a Valkyrie it means death.” Rhydian says his brows raised.

The lazy boy Guardian is in the doorway his eyebrows raised at me.

“What?” I challenge him.

“So your best buddy is a Valkyrie, eh?” His accent sounds Irish. “Well, ya know, Valkyrie are a rare female warrior breed and they’re the best in all of Edayri. So you might wanna recheck that friendship, ’cause if push comes to shove, she’s gonna choose her blooded over the likes of a Wiccan — especially a royal.” He spits the last part like it tastes bad in his mouth.

“And who are you?” I spat in his direction. He immediately is not my favorite. Apparently this Guardian is judging me, so I might as well return the favor. He doesn’t know Emily or me.

He huffs and throws his hand in the air in frustration and turns around. He says walking away, “breakfast is ready.”

My stomach growls at the mention of food. I follow Rhydian back downstairs around the side to an open kitchen and hearth area of house.

“Let me introduce everyone to you Willow. Cross, you’ve met — excellent in battle strategy and fighting in general, and pissing people off.” Rhydian clears his throat as I sit down at the table. Cross gives a squinted look to Rhydian, but he ignores him and continues. “On your right that’s Quinn, our resident medic, IT wizard, and typical geek. Next to him is Tullen, he’s our historian and religious conscience.”

Tullen has a different look than the others with his strawberry blonde hair pulled back in a man bun, with his beard in a brighter shade of red. Everyone else was clean shaven with short hair. Rhydian and Quinn look to be the youngest in the group, although not by much. There wasn’t much pretense when Cross brought over the food on the table. They all dug in quickly. I followed them as my stomach betrayed me with a louder growl smelling the bacon.

Tullen is looking me over very intently, whereas Cross looks irritated that I’m there. Quinn leaves the room, calling someone on his cell phone.

I break the silence. “Can you let me text my friends? I get we can’t go back but they are probably freaking out.”

Rhydian shakes his head. “That isn’t a good idea.”

“Why? I know Lucy, she’ll call the police.”

I forget he knows nothing of my life, my friends. “She’s one of my best friends. You haven’t met her, but you saw Emily before you… by the way, how did we get here?”

“Transporting magick.” He says it matter of fact. Tullen taps his wrist band that is the same one Rhydian is wearing. It occurs to me they all have the same wrist band. Nothing good will come from me disappearing.

“Look, it’s dangerous. Your magick is unbound, and more will be hunting for you. Before you take the crown at the winter solstice, your fair game.”

“For what, exactly?”

“Changing of the guard, taking over the crown. It would raise a lil’ chaos, all eager to take ya blood magick.” Cross’s taunts eyebrows raise, taking a drink of coffee.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I reply.

Tullen says, “you have to die for your magick to be released, and if it goes to the void no biggie but if someone incorporates it into themselves, it becomes their magick.” I bite my lip contemplating that more, like the demon, are coming for me.

Tullen, gets my attention, “Hey. I don’t mean to scare you. Do you know much about Edayri? The realm in general?”

Cross chuckles and says. “Hell no she doesn’t. She’s what Quinn calls a noob.”

“You’re what I call an asshole.” I respond back to Cross.

He seems to relish my retort. Tullen gets up and grinning and pats Cross on the back. Rhydian is trying to hide his amusement, but it’s unsuccessful. I haven’t done anything to warrant Cross’s smarmy attitude, but I’m not going to be intimidated by him. He seems to acknowledge this, his dark brown eyes crinkle at the sides with his smirk. He likes to push, and I will push back.

“So, basically, you’re a pure source of magick and all the crazies are gonna want a taste.” Tullen says from the kitchen. “Most Wiccans and beings have limited magick and physical powers, even the high coven.”

Rhydian chimes in, “Guardian’s too. We have some physical magick but these —” he points to the wrist band, “amplify our magick among other things…”

I recall Rhydian in the dark armor when we were in the woods. The back of my neck tingles, thinking about seeing him for the first time. When he saved me from the blood warrior demon. I really am a noob to this world everything despite what I’ve learned so far.

Quinn comes bounding into the kitchen. “Rhy, Eoin knows, he’s on the trail. They know Willow is out and has been located.”

“Shit.” Cross grumbles.

“He’s also calling out for information on us, too. He knows we’re AWOL and he’s pissed.”

“Who is Eoin?” I ask.

Rhydian replies, “Eoin, is the head of the Guardians. I guess you could say we are rogue for the moment.”

I listen to them, feeling guilty. It’s obvious I’m the reason these guys are in trouble. Then I hear Rhydian say that my signature would be tracked back home, and to my friends. He and Cross discuss their next move to take me somewhere else.

“If they don’t find me, would they hurt my friends, my father?” I ask.

“Depends on who they are. A fae isn’t too vicious, but depending on the demon and how upset they are at your blood, yep, they’d take out that anger on something.” Tullen responds. His kind crystal blue eyes, tell me that everyone I know is in danger.

I stand up, alarmed. “I gotta go.”

“To where? As said we’re rogue, our ability to help is limited. I swore an oath to protect ya. Your father will be all right.” Cross chuckles sarcastically at Rhydian.

Rhydian ignores him, “I’ll go check the campsite, if that will make you feel better.”

“Can I borrow a cell and just text my friends?”

“Bad idea. Then the bad guy knows who to torture to get ya to come out,” Cross says.

WTF?

Quinn’s arms steady outward for balance. “Did you feel it?” he asks Rhydian and Cross.

They nod. Then a shock wave goes through my body. I must look surprised, because Cross makes a comment that I’m feeling it too. They tell me it’s the rift; it occurs when the Edayri realm portals get split between planes.

“The British are coming.” Cross says looking around like someone was coming through the wall.

I feel the shock wave again, although this one moves me to step back and lasts longer.

Tullen and Quinn touch their wrist bands and are suited up in the dark sleek armor.

“That was the fourth movement,” Quinn said.

“Ladies, we’re going to have company. We need to move!” Cross looks too excited, like a dog getting a treat.

The rogue Guardians one by one leave the kitchen, and their feet stomp away as they walk downstairs. Rhydian and I follow them into a basement.

“Have you used your magick before?” Rhydian asks.

“Yes,” I say in a whisper. “I’m not well in control yet, but I’m working on it.” I don’t know why I need to say that to Rhydian. I feel like such an outsider with them.

Tullen asks, “Do you have it in your mind?” He looks to the rogue Guardians.

“What?”

Rhydian nudges me and whispers, “Don’t worry, I’ll transport us together. We need to move to another safe house.” He’s already in his armor like everyone else.

“How do I transport?”

The guys all blur out, one by one.

Rhydian explains that you visualize where you need to go, and it’s like folding into yourself and folding out where you need to be. Sounds crazy, but it’s my only shot at getting back home to my friends. I can do this.

Rhydian reaches for my hand, and I close my eyes and concentrate by visualizing the foyer of my home. I feel my body vibrate and allow the flowing movement while I envision home. I hear Rhydian yell “No!”, and when I open my eyes he blurs away, reaching for me, but I’m in the foyer of my house. I did it!

Chapter Ten

I
t’s early in the morning and the house is empty and dark. I can barely make out the grandfather clock down the hall near the formal dining room. The wall sconces in the entryway flicker with faux light, and I can see the table in the middle of the foyer. I open and close my eyes. Everything is black and white, like a noir film. This isn’t right.

The entry light turns on and blinds me. When I refocus my eyes, nothing has changed, my vision is still without technicolor.

“Hello? Willow, Mr. Warrington?” Mrs. Scott is in her robe, and her hair is still messy from sleep. Her plump frame and cheery face are a welcomed site. She shuffles in her house shoes and tugs at the lapel on her robe and turns around.

“Mrs. Scott.”

She looks right at me and again says, “Hello? Who’s here?” She is biting her lip and shivers. She can’t see me. I get right in front of her, and wave my hands in front of her face. No reaction.

“I know someone is in here. You’d better leave, if you know what’s good for you.” She warns. She must be able to feel me there, which is causing her to freak out. I’m just happy to see her. I want to hug her, not only to comfort her but myself as well. I need her pillowy body to lean on with her sweet flowery scent. I need my family, her, my father. To understand what is going on. How Rhydian fits into the mix.

Mrs. Scott whispers, “something is wrong. I feel it.” She turns away from me and walks to the front door slowly.

“I am here!” I try to get her attention, but it’s useless. She can’t see me. I’m caught on some kind of different plane, or a between of some sort, from transporting wrong. Rhydian warned me and I have no idea how to get out of this.

She turns back toward the stairs, and a loud noise from the outside shakes the house. The furniture moves, and the hanging lights wave in warning that something else is here. I exhale to control my breath. If I get scared like before, my magick will be of no use to anyone.

BAM!

“Oh, Goddess,” Mrs. Scott says, clutching onto the lapel of her robe and shuffling backwards toward the foyer table.

The front double door flies open, and she rushes backward to the wall near the sitting room as if she’s pushed by an invisible force. Something flies up the stairs at a speed where only a trail of gray smoke is visible. A large horned demon with deep colored skin walks in, followed by three people in cloaks.

Mrs. Scott screams and holds up her hands in surrender.

My power is thriving on the surface of my skin. Still, no one can see me. Will my magick work?

I throw a light ball at the group coming in the open door, but nothing happens. It goes right through them, like it was never there.

“Father, help! Help her!” I cry.

A cloaked figure floats through me in front of the stairs and comes to stand in front of the colored skinned demon who resembles the devil.

“Neither the girl nor Aiden are here. It’s strange, because I sense the girl. Maybe she left recently?” The voice is female coming from the cloak.

The demon huffs and smells the air. In a baritone voice, it says, “You’re right, it’s strong in this room.” His neon eyes focus on Mrs. Scott. “Where are they?” he demands.

He stands menacingly in front of Mrs. Scott and touches her face with a clawed finger.

I run and step in front of Mrs. Scott. My magick is swirling in my hands. “I’m right here! Don’t you fucking touch her!” I scream. No one can hear me or see me shaking.

“Will you be cooperative or suffer the consequences?”

“No! No no no.” I’m shaking more and more. Mrs. Scott would never hurt or harm a fly. I move to the side hoping she’ll see or feel me.

“You will not take the crown. It isn’t yours,” Mrs. Scott says turning her head to the side as he leans over her. I’m looking right at her. Her eyes, the twinkle of awareness — does she know I’m here?

“Oh? How do you know it’s not already been taken? These are all just formalities, at this point. The plot is enacted, and your little girl is but a casualty.” He sneers his fangs show.

Mrs. Scott backs away from the wall and directs herself to the one in the cloak, standing amongst other demons. “I see you, and you should be ashamed. The goddess certainly is. You have denounced her and this family.” The tears are coming down her chubby cheeks.

“Do it,” says the lady in the cloak. She turns and floats out the front door, the devil looking demon nods to the other demons following the remaining cloaked Wiccans.

The other demon moves forward toward Mrs. Scott; she tries to hold them off with some type of magickal defensive wall. I’m throwing my light balls, with absolutely no effect. I’m screaming and yelling. My arms are lighting up in the scrolling patterns of my magick, the design is expanding, no longer in my hands, but at my wrists, my elbows, my upper arms, my shoulders. A demon with a sword runs right through me. I hear her fall behind me. I can’t turn around. I just keep throwing the light balls and trying everything I can to make them count. My vision is blurry. My shoulders slump in defeat when I see the dark liquid flow across the floor as the demons leave the house.

I feel stronger and useless, all at the same time. She was my family, ever since I was six years old, and now, because of me, she’s gone. Mrs. Scott is — I slowly turn around and she is on the floor. The front of her robe wet with her blood. I drop to the floor by her and scream in agony. I tentatively touch her hair from her face. My tears ease as I sit there. I see she is clutching something in her hand. I open her hand, it’s the necklace Sabine gave me, my mother’s necklace. When I touch it, I feel Mrs. Scott and her warm hug and her voice rings in my ear.

“I’m sorry Willow for the trials you will go through, sorry I won’t be there to support you. I don’t have much in magick but have attached it to this to be with you, in the Goddess name when we meet again. As above and so below, blessed be your path.”
Her voice is gone and her warmth is fading.