Speak (Witches & Warlocks Book 1) (16 page)

Becca throws up her hands and blows air out her nose. “Zoe,” she says in a voice that sounds nothing like the one I know. “Carter is dead because you killed him.”

The coin — still flipping — has begun its descent. It’s going to hit the floor any minute and we’re going to know, once and for all, whether it’s heads or tails, light or dark. My stomach sinks and my heart’s on fire.

“I killed him.” It’s a statement but it feels like a question and there’s more of that nothingness that comes hand in hand with shock.

“Damn it, Becca,” Noah lurches to catch me as my legs give way. “You’re going to have to use more finesse than that.”

“I’ve done nothing but use finesse for years and look at what it’s done for me. We’re still
here
with her magic all awakened and ready to fire off at any given moment in any given direction. You should have just left well enough alone when you saw us. This,” she indicates me with a dismissive sweep of her arm, “is your fault.”

Noah pulls me to my feet as my legs continue to refuse to carry my weight and helps me get to the couch. All the while, little explosions of golden contact seep into my body and calm me, warm me, take the edge off my anger. I sigh as I sit and press my hands to my head.

Luke pushes his chair away from the table. “You two need to shut up and get over yourselves. Whatever or whoever is to blame, she’s transitioning and we can’t leave her like this. We gotta fix the problem and we’ll deal with the fallout later.” He strides over to kneel in front of me. Noah’s arm is around my shoulder, humming its song of warmth and energy. Luke touches my knee and the tiger roars awake and I suck in air through my open mouth, eyes wide, hair blown back from my forehead by some strange breeze. There’s another little explosion of magic as Luke’s magic collides with Noah’s magic and somehow it feels like the coin has fallen and settled on a side.

Chapter 18

“Did you feel that?” Noah’s looking at Luke and Luke’s nodding his head and neither seem to care at all if I felt anything.

Becca leaves her place at the table and hovers near the coffee table — a vulture circling a kill. “Feel what?”

“I think the transition is complete.” Luke’s eyebrows knit together. “But it doesn’t feel right.”

“What’s a transition? What’s happening to me?” I wish they’d remember that I’m right here and very invested in all the things they’re talking about, because, you know, they’re happening to me.

Noah smiles that placating smile a doctor gives to a patient before dishing out bad news and Becca shakes her head in disgust. Luke leaves his post at my feet and sits beside me on the couch. I’m sandwiched between Luke and Noah with Becca staring down at us in judgement. Meanwhile, I just want someone to speak up and fill me in.

In the end, it’s Noah who breaks the silence. “When a witch comes into her powers, it’s called transitioning. Before the transition, the kind of magic they’re gonna wield is undecided. After the transition, it’s clear what house the witch belongs to, what kind of magic they wield, stuff like that.”

Luke nods his agreement and takes up where Noah leaves off. “Generally, witches and warlocks transition during childhood, some during puberty, but some of the more powerful start transitioning much earlier.”

Becca turns her back on us and sighs heavily. “Her transition started very early. It was only luck that I found her when I did and put a stop to it.”

Noah throws a scathing look at Becca. “I don’t know that luck is the term I’d use.”

I’ve had enough of answers being interrupted by disagreement and I really just want someone to fill me in on everything. I don’t care who agrees and who disagrees, I just want them to finish the damn story. I consider telling them as much, just opening my mouth and screaming my frustration, but instead I bite the inside of my cheek and force myself to be patient. Is that the spell keeping me quiet or is patience naturally part of my personality? It’s funny that I don’t know. It’s maddening that I don’t know. It’s…

Well, it is what it is and yelling at people isn’t going to speed up me learning all the things that I need to learn, that’s for sure. I sigh. I close my eyes. I wait. I’m surprised the tiger hasn’t started roaring and pacing, but she doesn’t feel so much like she’s trapped inside me anymore, trapped by my reactions — or lack thereof. She feels like a separate entity. It’s disconcerting and exhilarating.

Luke takes my hand and I try not to acknowledge seeing the flicker of disappointment on his face when I slide it from his grasp and place it back in my lap. Slowly, with each person interrupting the other, they start to tell me the truth. The world isn’t just filled with humans. There’s an entire magical world that lives amongst mortals. Witches. Vampires. Shape shifters. Ghosts. You know, stuff like that. Sometimes, these magical creatures embed themselves into human life and try to blend in. Other times, they employ spells, or magic, or other supernatural traits to remain hidden from mortals. And yet others simply cannot be seen.

Remnants fall into the last category. Angels and demons. The leftovers of supernatural creatures who just can’t bring themselves to leave this world. Witches can see remnants and often help guide them on through out of this life and into the next. The kind of remnants a witch sees is pretty much determined by the kind of magic that witch commands. Those witches that see light remnants tend to wield light magic. Those that see hollow remnants tend to wield dark magic. Witches like Becca, those who operate in that strange gray area can’t see remnants. Not at all. But then there are very rare witches who can see both.

“So, I guess the big question is why did you keep all this from me? Did my parents know?” I address the question to Becca’s back and Noah and Luke turn to her and wait.

“The people who raised you weren’t your parents.” Becca’s statement punches me in the stomach. “Your birth parents are dead.”

“Good God, Becca. Use some tact.” Luke puts his hand on my knee and I allow it to remain.

My mind is reeling with all that I’ve learned. I’m a witch. The world is filled with magic and magical creatures. Demons exist. Becca isn’t my friend. The man and woman who raised me, the people I love unconditionally, aren’t my parents. My birth parents are dead. And I killed Carter.

It’s more than I can handle and I stand, pushing off the couch and towards the kitchen table with the ancient book that’s actually my journal that woke me with its whispering. Energy is flowing through me, confusing me, overwhelming me. I can’t think in a straight line, it’s all emotions and reactions and clouded judgement. Questions without answers and friends who might not be friends.

I spin to face Becca. “Why did you do this to me?”

I expect her face to crumple, for her to look apologetic. Hell, I expect her to cross the room and wrap me up in one of her tight embraces that always feels so silly because she’s so small and I’m so tall. That’s not what happens. Her face contorts into a mockery of itself, made ugly by malice and spite. “Poor Zoe. So confused. All alone. You think you can stamp your foot and get your answers? Not from me, little girl. Not from me.”

Noah and Luke lurch to my rescue and I just can’t stand the thought of more arguing. With my emotions swirling and my magic pressing against the confines of my body, I sweep my keys from their place near the door and run from the apartment. I run and I run until I run straight into Noah.

“How did you get here?” I ask, my blood pounding through my veins.

He shrugs and smiles, his eyes lighting up. “Badass warlock, remember?”

His hands are on my shoulders, leaking calmness into me. I can’t help but smile in return, although it doesn’t last long. “I’m so confused.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I wish it wasn’t this way.” He looks behind him, as if he hears something. “Listen. The others can’t know about the remnant being hollow. They just can’t. Don’t talk about it to anyone but me, ok?”

Here’s the thing. Noah’s touch feels so good and his voice still sounds like home and his eyes still look exactly like mine, but I don’t know who to trust. Can I trust him? If he could tell what I was the moment he saw me, why didn’t he bring it up? How do I know that he doesn’t have some totally self-serving reason for trying to get me on his side? On the other hand, what was he really supposed to do? Drop me off at my house that first night and instead of kissing me, just drop the whole ‘you’re a witch’ bomb in my lap?

“I’m not sure I want to come with you.”

I say it and I mean it. Even if he really, truly does have my best interest at heart, I’m more in the mood to go off on my own and figure out what the hell is going on with me. Like, if my birth parents are dead, then who are the people who raised me? Who were my birth parents? Why did Becca and whoever else is on this feel the need to hide me from myself? Hide me from my world? Did they think they were keeping me safe? ‘Cause the life I’ve led hasn’t been bad, but being locked inside myself all the time hasn’t exactly been fantastic, either.

Or, and here’s a sobering thought, were they trying to keep the world safe from me? ‘Cause my powers might not be good powers.

‘Cause I might end up killing people.

Like I killed Carter.

Noah takes my hand and tilts my chin up so I have to look him in the eyes. “Believe me, Zoe. You really,
really
want to come with me.”

Chapter 19

I have nothing to say to him and I’m so very tired of cryptic statements and half answers that only lead to more questions so I just kind of walk off. Noah follows me, and I guess a stronger person would be irritated but honestly, I don’t really mind. As much as I don’t want to deal with another round of too much information, I also really don’t feel like being alone. So I wander and he follows and we don’t say much.

I’m just a little too numb to process all the betrayal. I mean, I loved Becca like a sister, trusted her with my craziest thoughts and silliest secrets and all the while she was hiding everything from me. Every detail of her life and my life is a lie. A lie facilitated by her. I mean every detail right down to my boyfriend…

I cringe a little at that. I wouldn’t say I’ve fallen in love with Luke, but I sure as hell don’t feel like we’re just friends. I’m somewhere halfway down that road. I can’t help but wonder where he stands on the whole thing. Was I nothing more than a job, a … what’s the word … a mark? Or did I start out that way and it turned into something else? Is he, maybe, halfway down the road to loving me, too?

Apparently I’m walking familiar paths because I realize I’ve drawn to a stop in front of the movie theater where I saw my first remnant. Once again, I’m cold even though I should be warm and I pause and rub my hands up my arms. Noah’s got goosebumps breaking out across his flesh. Just like before, the girl kind of appears out of nowhere, the girl with the empty eyes and the voice so dark it scares me.

“I knew you’d be back.” Her voice distorts and wraps around me and I scrunch up my face in pain. “I knew you’d want to help.” When she smiles at me it stretches too far and too wide.

“Don’t listen to her, Zoe.” Noah’s grabbing at my arm, trying to pull my attention to him. “Look away. Look at me. Look anywhere else.”

“I thought you couldn’t see her,” my voice is dreamy and the remnant’s eyes are expanding, darkness upon darkness upon darkness.

“I choose not to see her. And so can you. I can teach you because we’re the same but you’re gonna have to look at me now.” He puts a hand to my cheek and tries to turn my head. I let him, but keep my eyes locked on the remnant. “I promise you I’ll tell you everything as soon as you look away and come with me.”

Everything. That sounds appealing. I’d like to know everything. I look at Noah and his blue upon blue eyes shine back at me, a smile radiating up from his lips. “That’s my girl.”

I open my mouth to tell him that I’m not his girl but the remnant starts shrieking. The sound is violent and catastrophic and I want to cover my ears but I can’t. A movie just let out and people are pouring out of the movie theater surrounding us with the happy sounds of their chatter.

“You bitch!” The remnant spits on the ground at my feet. “You dirty, nasty whore. You need to look at me and you need to help me. You goddamned dirty witch! I’ll tear you limb from limb! I’ll eat your soul!” Her voice is in my head and so distorted, she sounds like the very demon she’s supposed to be and I am scared out of my ever living mind. I mean, knees weak, hands trembling, chest heaving, might pass out soon scared.

I think I do cover my ears, and I might be shrieking too, and people might be staring and forming a circle around me, some of them reaching for their phones, others trying to hurry away before anything worse happens. I can’t be sure, though, because I’m too focused on this tug in my chest and head, this force that comes from the very essence of who I am and as much as I want it to be golden and warm and full of light and goodness, it’s also purple and pulsing and rolls like a great sick fog.

I know for sure I’m screaming now. A primal thing. Ripping through my lungs and making my throat raw. It mixes with the screams and gasps of the people watching and I’m both horrified and satisfied. After a lifetime of invisibility, I am seen and it’s the best thing and worst thing I’ve ever experienced.

Noah’s clutching at my arm, begging me to look at him but it’s like I stepped on a freight train and am just on for the ride now. I couldn’t stop it if I tried. My magic is in the palm of my hand, this beautiful mixture of light and dark, it calls to me, whispering in a thousand different voices and like before it’s as if the answer to all my questions are on the tip of my tongue.

The remnant is still screeching and lights are flickering on the signs outside the movie theater. A wind swoops through the gathered crowd, sending hair flying and another series of gasps and half murmured exclamations of fear and terror go rippling around me. Bits of trash get caught up in tiny cyclones and whip up our legs and backs. The lights all explode, burning out in a series of pops and a shower of sparks. There’s a dark cloud gathering around the remnant and people scuttle away, unable to see her, but oh so able to feel her.