Spellbound (Spellbringers Book 1) (23 page)

Abe sighed. “Look, I didn’t mean to
get so upset, but if we are going to keep everyone safe, we need to
agree there can be no more secrets. That goes for Jerica and me as
well. There are some things you need to know, Rachel. Maybe if we’d
been a little more forthcoming, you would have been more
careful.”

Everyone looked visibly relieved over
our agreement to be totally open and honest with each
other—everyone except Alisa. I could tell she had a secret, one
which she was unwilling to reveal. I decided to talk to her later
and give her a chance to explain what she was holding back. If that
didn’t work, I vowed I would take matters into my own hands. I
would use my gift to find out if what she was withholding could
threaten the family in any way. Wasn’t it odd that I now felt like
I was part of this family?

Abe insisted Alisa and I phone home
and make sure it was okay to stay over for a while. He said he had
a lot to tell me and would need a couple of hours of uninterrupted
time to do so. My mother was irritated I’d stayed out so long and
hadn’t yet finished my weekend chores. I begged and promised her
the moon. She relented after a couple of minutes, mostly, I think,
because she had to leave to go over to the church and didn’t want
to waste anymore time listening to me whine.

After clearing the table and tidying
up the kitchen, Abe and Jerica spent the next two hours answering
all my questions in great detail. I learned that Hunters were
traditionally created by Demons to serve as a sort of Army. Most
Hunters had since broken from their ancient allegiance with their
Demon sires and they run free, stealing magic anywhere they can
find it. When they can’t find a Spellbringer to feed from, they
siphon energy from regular humans.

“Like vampires?” I asked
Jerica.

“Not exactly. Well, maybe in a sense.
They can steal energy from a human without ever touching them. The
human is usually unaware of the encounter and just thinks they’re
coming down with a flu or virus. They’re back to normal in a few
days.”

“So they’re like psychic vampires,”
Alisa said.

“That’s a good way to put it, I
suppose.”

“It’s really bizarre to think there
are magical creatures roaming around right under our noses,” Alisa
said. “How do Hunters find clothes? Or food to eat? Do they eat
food? Where do they sleep at night?”

Jerica chuckled. “You have to
understand that most Hunters are hundreds of years old. Most were
fathered by a Demon and mothered by a human or
Spellbringer.”

“That’s gross,” I said. “Do they grow
up like a regular kid? What makes them the way they
are?”

“Hunters were never normal. At birth,
they’re small and human-like, but no one could ever mistake them
for human,” Abe said.

“Yeah, the glowing red eyes and
creepy-ass growl probably gives it away,” Jace said,
laughing.

“Hunters aren’t nearly as mindless as
some Spellbringers would like to believe. They’re ruled by hunger
and instinct, but they can be very cunning,” Abe said.

“I think we witnessed a little bit of
that today.” I shuddered in remembrance.

Jerica cut in. “Like I said, most
Hunters are ancient. They were trained by their Demon sire and
taught everything they needed to know for survival. To get back to
Alisa’s question, Hunters are smart enough to find clothing and
food. They’re like animals, so they sleep in the woods or in the
middle of a field. In cities, they’re probably mistaken for
homeless people. Hunters will feed on rats, mice, squirrels,
rabbits—anything they can find—and they aren’t particular about
cooking their food before they eat it. Hunters aren’t susceptible
to heat or freezing temperatures, so they are very adaptable.
Basically they roam the earth in search of magic.”

“What exactly is a Spellbringer?” I
asked. “If Hunters are created from Demons, how were we
created?”

“We’re descendants of an ancient group
of people known as the Fae. Demons are an offshoot of the
Fae…”

“Sort of like Fae gone bad,” Jace
interrupted.

Jerica rolled her eyes at her son’s
bad joke and continued. “Demons willfully chose a path of darkness.
They broke away from the Fae long ago. Few remember—or care to
admit—that there is little difference between our ancestors and the
Demons who are our enemies. Long ago, the Fae began to mate with
humans, and Spellbringers came to be. The Fae died out, or perhaps
went into hiding thousands of years ago, and now only Demons,
Hunters, and Spellbringers remain.”

“So, this is it? I mean, there aren’t
any fairies or gnomes…” I trailed off feeling like an
idiot.

“To the best of my knowledge, we are
the only magical races who remain,” Jerica replied. To my great
relief, she wasn’t laughing at me.

“Does that mean there used to be
fairies?” Alisa asked, sounding cautiously excited.

“There are stories,” Abe said. “I
believe humans have their own myths and legends too.”

“True,” she agreed.

The room fell silent and I thought
about what I’d just heard. Everything Abe and Jerica told me made
sense on some deep, psychic level. Perhaps it was good that Abe and
Jerica waited a while to tell me all of this because I don’t think
I would have believed any of it at first.

“Are Hunters immortal?” Alisa
asked.

“No, but they do lead long, long
lives. Demons are very close to being immortal. They age very
slowly. It takes thousands of years for them to age five human
years.”

“If we’re descendents of the Fae, why
aren’t we immortal?” I asked.

“Because over time, our race has
intermarried with humans,” Jerica replied. “Would you really want
to live forever? Forever is a long time.”

It made me feel more
connected to the world we lived in to know I had an expiration date
just like everyone else. I didn’t want to be
too
different.

“What exactly is the role of a Watcher
or Warrior?” I asked, trying to grasp the hierarchy of this
organization of magical people.

“I am a First Watcher,” Jerica
explained, her pride evident in the way she sat up just a little
straighter. “I supervise other Spellbringers in the area and report
any troubling findings to Central Headquarters. My Watchers cover a
certain area, looking for Hunters, Shifters, and
Innocents.”

Jerica continued. “Abe trained as a
Warrior—just like Bryce is doing now. A Warrior’s job is to
eliminate Hunters and Demons. It is a dangerous job, and not for
everyone.” She paused for a moment, and I knew she was thinking
about Royce, her oldest son who died in a training accident. “Not
only is it a path you choose with care, but one which is handed
down from generation to generation. Abe gave it up when he married
me and became my Protector.”

“Is that how he killed that Hunter so
easily?” I asked, trembling at the memory of the attack that
happened just a few hours before.

“Yes,” Abe replied. “Jerica contacted
Central, and a group of Warriors are headed into town to dispose of
the body.”

“Are they staying here, Dad?” Jace
asked. His excitement revealed a deep fascination with those who
shared his birthright.

“No. If something goes wrong, their
trail would lead back to this family, and we can’t risk that
happening.” Abe’s confidence was reassuring. I imagined that he had
a lot of experience in such matters before marrying
Jerica.

We had been talking so long, my
muscles ached from lack of use. I was grateful when Abe and Jerica
came to a stopping point and allowed us to get up and stretch. Jace
begged me to stay, but I declined. I’d made a promise to my mother
and I intended to keep it.

Abe insisted on following me home just
to make sure I made it safely. He watched as I let myself inside
before pulling out of the driveway. I quickly completed all of my
weekend chores, but not too quickly. Mama could spot a rush job
from a mile away. Those domestic tasks completed, I headed upstairs
to shower. As I rinsed off the residue of my crazy day, I began
shaking uncontrollably.

Shock from the attack finally wore off
and terror took over. I exited the shower and dried quickly. After
dressing in multiple layers of clothes, I snuggled under the covers
of my bed, shivering until I fell asleep.

Chapter
Nineteen

Alisa

After Rachel left, I lingered at
Jace’s house, too keyed up to go home. The Alexanders were so full
of life, and even in the midst of a crisis such as the one we had
just experienced, they still enjoyed each other’s company. I
appreciated the way they included me in almost
everything.

Jace was being extra nice, fawning
over me in his gratitude for saving Rachel’s life. Abe asked me for
a play-by-play account of my battle with the Hunter. He chuckled
with pride when I described how I’d landed the first blow. Jerica
raised her eyes to heaven, hand on her heart, as she realized just
how close Rachel had come to being killed.

“Thank goodness you were there, Alisa.
If she’d been alone…” Jerica trailed off.

“You’re an amazing young woman,” Abe
said. “You singlehandedly took on a Hunter. I don’t know how you
distracted him long enough for us to get there.”

“I didn’t,” I said, eager to explain
how Rachel had been willing to sacrifice herself for me. I gave the
Alexanders a quick recap of the attack. “I never would have made it
if it hadn’t been for Rachel. I mean, you saw how gigantic he was.
I couldn’t have held him off for long on my own.”

“You’re a real hero,” Abe insisted.
“Don’t downplay what you did.”

“But I…” I stammered,
blushing.

“Can’t you just take a compliment?”
Jace asked. “I feel like a complete ass. Rachel asked me to come
along and I laughed at her. I chose to sleep in instead, and my
selfishness could have killed you both.”

“You had no way of knowing what would
happen,” Jerica said. “From now on, we need to watch out for each
other. The link between you and Rachel was invaluable, Jace. You
helped save her life.”

“Wait until Bryce hears about this,”
Abe said. “There he is, training for the second year in a row, and
he hasn’t faced a Hunter yet. You’ve faced two and lived to tell
about it. I ought to send him an email tonight and tell him what
happened. I wonder how long it will take for news of the attack to
make its way to the training quarters. He may have already
heard.”

“They hear about every attack?” Jace
asked.

“No. Just the ones where Warriors are
called,” Abe said.

Sensing an opening, I asked, “How
often do you talk to Bryce? Does he call or email often?” I hoped I
sounded ultra-casual.

“I send an email about once a week. He
responds, but his messages are short and sweet. He never initiates
contact. He’s never been one to communicate.” Jerica turned to her
husband. “Abe, you’d better send him an email. If he’s already
heard about the request for reinforcements to our area, he’ll be
worried sick.”

Abe rushed to do Jerica’s bidding,
pausing to kiss his wife on the cheek. She blinked back tears and
reached out to pat my hand. Her emotions seemed very close to the
surface.

I was overcome with emotion as well,
but of a different sort. I hadn’t decided whether or not to mention
the attack when I emailed Bryce later. As much as I wanted to tell
him about it, I didn’t want to worry him when he was so far away
from home. It never occurred to me that he would hear about it from
other sources.

I suddenly felt very anxious. I didn’t
send an email that morning before I left. Over the last several
weeks, our correspondence had escalated to the point where we sent
a dozen emails a day. If he’d already heard about the attack, he
would be beside himself with worry, especially since he hadn’t
heard from me all day.

The other emotion that threatened to
overcome me was confusion. Bryce never initiated contact with his
own parents, yet he deliberately sought me out and sent me
increasingly long and detailed messages. Could it be that he’d
meant what he said in his first email? That he wished he would have
waited to kiss me until I felt the same way about him? I knew he
saw me as a friend—he told me, even going as far as to say he hoped
I had room in my heart for more than one best friend. I trembled
just thinking about the idea that Bryce and I could be more than
that.

Ever since the night Bryce kissed me,
my fantasy life had come to an abrupt and life-changing halt. At
first, I resented the way his image kept haunting my waking
fantasies, and stopped them before they could ripen. As my feelings
toward Bryce began to change, I resisted daydreaming for a
different reason. My fantasies had always resulted in the same
outcome—nothing. One hard and fast rule applied to everything I
daydreamed about: nothing I fantasized about ever came
true.

As my feelings toward Bryce blossomed
into longing and desire, I didn’t want to tempt fate by concocting
ridiculous fantasies about him. I didn’t want to jinx any potential
relationship. My dreams, however, were beyond my control. I drifted
off to sleep thinking benign thoughts about Bryce combined with
prayers for his safety. My dreams were not so benign, and my cheeks
flamed just thinking about it.