28. Traces of Magic
TRACES OF MAGIC
Alex
Seeing Harlowe House with broken windows and charred walls was a shock to both of us. I remembered the pretty curtains, clean walls, and pots of flowers.
The front door, once glossy and sturdy, had been butchered down, and its wooden boards jutted out in every direction like broken bones.
A note from the police pinned to the doorframe read that the building was being investigated.
“I knew he’d set fire to the house.” Irene’s voice cracked. “But watching the result is horrific.”
She entered with uncertain steps, but I couldn’t cross the threshold. An invisible force blocked my passage.
“I need you to invite me in.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It’s part of my curse. I can’t enter a house without an invitation. That’s why Mrs. Talbot didn’t invite us in. She wants her house to be inaccessible to me, to protect her family.”
“Interesting.” She stretched out an arm towards the ruined entrance hall. “Alex, you’re welcome in my home.”
The invisible force lifted, and I entered.
A memory flickered in my mind. “I invited my sire to my flat. He was an impressive man, elegant, strong, and with a foreign accent.”
“Would you like to see him again?”
I shrugged. “I’m afraid I might attack him if I see him again. He’s likely a rogue or on the way to becoming one, and he cursed me. That’s enough for me to want him dead.”
Her luminosity dimmed. “Then I hope you don’t see him. He must be extremely powerful.”
“Are you worried about me?” I felt taller at the thought she might.
“Of course I am.”
The floorboards creaked when we stepped deeper into the hall. The stench of smoke hung heavily in the air, and there wasn’t a piece of furniture, wall, or door that wasn’t blackened or deformed.
Irene paled, and her lower lip quivered. “What kind of monster does that?”
“If it’s too much, we can leave.”
“No. I owe this to Papa and the servants who were part of my family.”
Green streaks like scratches marred a doorframe. A foul smell wafted from them, tickling my memory. I’d seen those scratches before.
She paused in front of the dining room, or what was left of it.
“Did it happen here?” I moved closer to her, my version of holding her.
She nodded, her gaze on the charred floor.
“That bastard.” Anger brought out my power, and my senses sharpened. “He deserves to die a slow, painful death.”
She didn’t contradict me, which was good.
A brown stain smeared the part of the carpet that wasn’t scorched. Despite the fact the stink of smoke permeated everything, the scent of her blood was still distinguishable.
We advanced down a corridor slowly as the wooden tiles popped and squeaked, threatening to break at any moment. Along the hallway, chunks of the floor were missing, exposing the servants’ hall underneath.
“Any memories?”
She shook her head. “I’m confused.”
“Look.” I pointed to a wall the fire hadn’t completely blackened. The wallpaper had been ripped, showing deep green ruts. “I saw them in the entrance hall as well.”
She touched them. “What are these?”
I traced the scratches. A fine green powder covered them. “Darius’s blasts leave a residue like that.”
“I remember a green glow.”
“So do I, from when Riley attacked me.” That rang a distant bell. “We should—”
She screamed as the charred floorboards underneath her gave in and she dropped.
The look of terror on her face made me move quickly. I acted on pure instinct and grabbed her arm before she hit the floor. Instant agony burnt through my body, choking me.
The fall was short, and she was a wili. She wouldn’t die although she would feel pain if injured, and her healing wasn’t fast. But I couldn’t let her fall.
I pulled her up and laid her in a corner before jumping away from her. My mouth filled with bitter bile as pain flared up. My vision blurred at the edges, and I gnashed my teeth not to faint. Dozens of hot blades stabbed me, setting my skin on fire. Cold shivers caused my teeth to chatter.
“Alex.” Irene’s voice sounded as if coming through water. “Say something.”
Nausea scratched the back of my throat, and I couldn’t contain myself. I turned to the side and threw up. As my stomach emptied itself, shame filled it.
“Leave.” I stretched out an arm to keep her at a distance.
“I won’t touch you, but I won’t leave you.” Her voice was soft and low, intimate.
When I finished, the tremors in my body died down. Cold sweat dampened my skin, and pain throbbed in my body. Above all, shame sat heavy in my chest. I wiped my mouth quickly with a handkerchief.
“It’s not safe here. We must leave.” I avoided her gaze. “Walk close to the wall.”
She tiptoed across the floor, casting glances at me. We didn’t speak until we were outside.
“Are you all right?” She avoided looking at me as well.
No. “Yes. What about you?”
“Just a fright.” She turned towards me. “Thank you. I appreciate how difficult it must have been for you.”
I shrugged and headed for the carriage.
“I didn’t realise how painful a touch was for you.” Too much compassion wafted from her. It was wasted on me. “It’s torture for you.”
It was, but shame was a good rival.
The confined space of the carriage worked against me.
In the span of a few minutes, my relationship with Irene had changed. She had to think I was weak and deranged.
“Echoing what you told me, you don’t have to be ashamed.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Not with me. I understand what it means to be ridiculed and feel ashamed for something you don’t control.”
I worked my jaw. “You aren’t the Duke of the Dark Court though.
If the courtiers learnt everything about my weakness, they would exploit it to destroy me.
They know I don’t want to be touched, but they don’t know that touching frightens me and makes me throw up. They think I’m eccentric, not insane.”
“I know nothing about being a leader, but if the court worked in harmony, everything would be easier.”
“The wilis supported me when I challenged the former duke for the role. But then they criticised me for my lack of social engagements. Myrtha believes the Dark Court should organise more social events involving the fairies and the werewolves.” I huffed.
“I don’t think balls and parties are important.
If that’s their idea of harmony, then I’m not interested. ”
“Connections are important, especially since supernatural beings are already isolated from the rest of the population.”
“Some supernatural beings live incognito among humans. Sean might be a wizard or possess a peculiar ability he hides.”
She trapped her bottom lip between her teeth. “I remember something. Animals were attracted to Sean. Wherever he went, birds would follow him.”
“I’ll ask Darius. He’ll confirm if there are traces of magic in your house.”
“If I can help you…”
I shook my head. “Don’t worry.”
“No, I mean with the other problem.” She opened her hand as if offering it to me. “I might not be the best person for the job, but perhaps we can help each other.”
The familiar choking feeling crept over me like a file of tarantulas. “It won’t work. This is who I am, and that’s it.”
“I don’t believe that.”
The truth was that, every time I’d tried to overcome my disgust for touching people and being touched, I’d failed. But for Irene, I would try again.
“I won’t insist.” She stroked her arm absentmindedly, and I wondered if she was thinking about yesterday. “But I’m happy to help.”
Once at Raven Hall, she followed me, and even though she didn’t speak, I feared she didn’t see me with respect anymore. I had to bloody fix my problem, or she would completely change her mind about me.
Graves was chopping wood at the end of the yard, something he loved to do. He claimed it calmed him, but it didn’t work.
“Ravenhill.” He crossed the yard to talk to me.
“Graves, what is it?” I pushed aside the shameful episode, standing in the shadow of the sycamore tree.
“I heard that Knight wants to sign the bill restricting the use of magic, proposed by the Fair Court.” He swung the axe over his shoulder, eyeing Irene with interest.
“He hasn’t signed it so far. But why do you care?”
He smelt of wet dog and acrid sweat, strongly enough to cleanse my nose of the stench of fear.
Graves’s pulse spiked, and his smell changed. Was he anxious? “I don’t trust Knight. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a hidden reason to support the bill.”
I scratched my chin. “Or you’re searching for an excuse to make me fight him.”
“He doesn’t deserve the role of Duke of the Moon Court.”
I chuckled. “Funny. You said the same thing about me.” I turned around and headed for the mansion, letting the werewolf grumble behind me.
“Is Graves right?” Irene walked next to me. “Could there be an ulterior motive behind Knight’s support for that bill?”
“There’s certainly an ulterior motive, but if Knight signs and the bill passes, the fairies will go after him next. The werewolves use magic to transform. If the law restricts how many times a werewolf can transform in a day, Knight won’t be happy.”
A sudden tiredness caught me as I continued upstairs. The sunlight and the moment of panic weakened me. I needed to feed. Irene didn’t seem to fare better.
In the hallway on the first floor, we paused.
She loitered, shifting her weight.
I should say something. “Keep studying the deep layers of auras.” Politics and advice. Great. The right things to talk about with her.
She nodded without enthusiasm. “And if you change your mind, let me know.”
I walked backwards awkwardly, nearly tripping on my own feet, just to keep looking at her. She headed for her room, and I exhaled between my teeth when she rounded the corner as a strange combination of relief and yearning hit me.
On the one hand, her closeness challenged my fears. On the other, the constant struggle tired me.
In my bedroom, I paced in front of the blazing fire, opening and closing my hands. I paused only to stare at my reflection in the mirror. My image was neat and sharp. No smudged edges, a good indication I wasn’t turning into a rogue. Or it was an illusion.
I put my hand on the smooth surface of the mirror. How much of my soul was left? Mirrors reflected a person’s soul, and rogues were soulless. They didn’t have any reflections or cast any shadows. Of all the terrible things my curse carried, losing my reflection terrified me the most.
Hunger caused my muscles to strain and tense and my stomach to cramp. The temptation to unleash the beast inside of me, jump through the window, and search for prey was so strong that my fangs lengthened on their own.
If I didn’t feed, I would end up biting one of my servants.