23 #3
“The magic isn't what society fears,” she continued. “It's what people do with it. Every time someone loses control and hurts someone, every time a phantom tears through a neighborhood or a curse destroys a family, it reinforces that fear. People don't see individuals, Theo. They see danger.”
“And your solution is to take control of their magic?”
“Our solution is to prevent more victims by getting it under control.”
My stomach twisted.
“You call it oppression,” Mandy said. “Most people call it safety. The Syndicate offers control where there is none. Structure where there is chaos. People are terrified, Theo. They want someone to protect them.”
“No,” I said. “They want someone to blame.”
For the first time, something flickered behind her calm expression.
“Maybe,” she admitted. “But fear doesn't care about fairness. It never has. The Syndicate simply learned how to use that fear before someone else did.”
Silence stretched between us.
Then she leaned forward, voice lowering. “But you’re different, Theo. That’s why you’re here.”
I frowned, rolling my eyes.
“You didn’t reject your magic,” she said, searching my face.
“And you didn’t indulge it, either. You took something people fear—death—and you tempered it.
You made it something it shouldn't be. You found a loophole with your magic, shaped it into what you wanted it to be, not what it should have become. That shouldn’t be possible. And yet here you are.”
A chill crawled up my spine.
“You’re not on a path to darkness, Theo,” Mandy continued.
“Not yet, anyway. But your power is growing. What if next time you unleash that magic, it doesn’t save those phantoms but spreads a wave of death over the entire city?
You’re proof that misunderstood magic can be redirected.
Stabilized. Rewritten. But it’s clear that you still have so much more to learn. ”
My stomach dropped. “So that’s what this is about.”
She nodded. “If we can understand how you did it—truly understand how your magic works—we won’t need to hurt anyone else. Like demons. Like Alex. We can prevent disasters instead of reacting to them.”
“And the phantoms?” I demanded. “The city? You just caused one of those disasters you’re trying to avoid.”
“No, you did that, Theo. You and Alex weakened the veil. And you were the ones who failed to fix it. No one forced you to do that.” A flicker of something passed through her expression.
Not guilt, but calculation. “We just took advantage of it. We studied the magic they shouldn’t have even had to begin with.
It seemed like a better solution to experiment on dead people than those who are living, wouldn’t you agree? ”
“But they’re half alive!” I reminded her. “They do feel. I know it because I can feel it. My magic responds to their pain.” I pointed to my chest, my magic purring in response. For a moment, her eyes widened with intrigue.
“We tested a theory because we wanted to see what your magic was really capable of,” she said evenly.
Her gaze held mine, unflinching. “No one sees the catastrophes that never happened because we intervened to prevent them. They only see the questionable methods we used to get there. But people are alive today because we were willing to make choices others won’t. ”
She stood, resting a hand lightly on the table. “You can hate us for that. But you’re here because you could change everything.”
My throat was dry as I swallowed hard.
“And whether you realize it yet or not,” she added gently, “I know you already want to help. Don’t you?”
“I …” My hands shook. I had hid my death magic from everyone most of my life, and the second the Syndicate had exposed it, how many people had turned their backs on me?
How many times had I thought, If only the world didn’t misunderstand demons and the dangerous magic they wield?
It wasn’t as though I disagreed with their logic, but this wasn’t the way to do it.
No one was meant to monopolize magic, to decide who could wield it and how.
“Follow me, Theo.” Mandy stepped around the table, heading toward the exit. I got up and slowly followed her. We walked in silence down the hallway until we stopped in front of a closed door.
“Your work starts tomorrow. Rest up.” She opened the door to a narrow concrete room barely wide enough to stretch out in. The walls were raw and unpainted, a single cot bolted to the floor beneath a buzzing fluorescent strip.
I let out a humorless laugh. “You told me I wasn’t trapped. Funny way of proving it—by locking me in a fucking closet.”
“This is an abandoned research facility, not a five-star hotel. Besides, you haven’t yet earned our trust. We can’t let you just roam around unsupervised.
” She nudged me to enter. “I’m sure you’ll find the accommodations more than adequate.
There’s a cot with warm blankets, a bottle of water, and a change of clothes. ”
“What if I have to pee?” I frowned, folding my arms.
“There’s a cup you can use.” She smirked. “I hope you have good aim.”
She grabbed my wrist and shoved me into the closet. A second later, metal clicked and slid into place on the other side. Laughter drifted through the door, soft and amused, followed by the retreating echo of her footsteps down the hall.