Chapter Seven
As soon as we stepped outside, I felt the humidity on my skin, tendrils of my hair curling up at the nape of my neck like a fortune-telling fish.
All around us, people were leaning against the hotel walls, lounging on metal chairs, or resting on the railings that guarded the edge of the terrace.
The change in energy was tangible. Inside was loud, music, happiness and excitement.
Outside was soft, tentative voices and gentle touches.
The sun had already disappeared, leaving the party unchaperoned.
Only the moon watched over the city now, bathing us in tender twilight and looking the other way as couples made the most of the moment.
I rested my forearms on the railings and looked down onto the street.
The oak trees nodded their acknowledgement, swathes of Spanish moss drifting towards me on a non-existent wind.
We’re here, they seemed to say, nothing will harm you, remember who you are.
Rolling my shoulders as if to push the weight of the unfamiliar magic away, I closed my eyes and let the heavy evening air cover me, clearing my head and my heart.
The eddies of unwelcome energy ebbed away, the tide washing in and out again until the natural flow of things was restored.
‘You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,’ I heard Jackson say softly. ‘Just tell me, are we safe?’
‘I think so,’ I said, grateful for his calm presence.
He clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and took his position, standing sentry beside me, not quite touching. In one fluid move, he snaked the bow tie from around his neck and stuffed it in the pocket of his pants, jacket long since abandoned.
‘Do you want to leave?’
‘No,’ I told him. ‘I should stay, just in case.’
‘So there is something—’
There was an anxious question in his voice but he stopped himself, raising his chin with confidence.
‘I’m not worried, I know you can handle it, whatever it is.’
His words made me feel both better and worse. It was nice to know he was so certain but what if his confidence was misplaced?
‘There’s something – someone – here,’ I said, keeping my voice as soft and unbothered as I could. ‘Someone with magic. It took me by surprise, is all.’
‘Your grandmother?’ he suggested.
‘No. Definitely not. But if I can sense them, they can almost certainly sense me.’
Now the shock had worn off, I was more curious than anything.
It was strange, an unknown energy, nothing I’d ever felt before, but the thought of meeting another witch or magical creature was beyond exciting.
I’d seen what they could do, not what they would do.
There was every chance they would be ten times more afraid of me than I was of them. And not without reason.
‘No one is going to mess with Savannah’s legendary super witch.’ Jackson’s lips twitched with a smile. ‘Even if they did, they’d have to get through her useless but dedicated sidekick first.’
‘You’re no one’s sidekick, useless or otherwise,’ I told him, meaning every word. ‘You’re the definition of main character.’
‘Hmm, I don’t know about that,’ he replied. ‘Doesn’t the main character usually get the girl?’
His shoulder blades squeezed together under the thin fabric of his shirt; the white cotton contrasted against his gorgeous brown skin.
When he dipped his head to let the looser curls on top fall forward, I noticed how much his hair had grown out in the last month; the colour at the ends had been lifted by the relentless sun, but the sides were still tight in a flawless fade that looked freshly done.
Jackson definitely wasn’t letting his sister cut his hair.
Unlike me. He tilted his head to squint in my direction.
‘I’m joking, I’m joking,’ he said when I didn’t reply. ‘I know you and Wyn are fated mates or whatever.’
‘Fated mates? Have you been raiding Lydia’s fantasy bookshelf?’
‘No, but she introduced me to the concept. Didn’t shoot my shot when I had the chance, wasn’t meant to be. I might not know much about magic, but I do know you can’t fight fate.’
‘That’s what I hear,’ I said, too brightly. ‘Although, whoever the Fates are, I would like to have a word with them.’
‘He’s doing OK, though?’ Jackson asked, looking at me through squinting eyes. ‘Wyn, I mean?’
The smile on my face did not match the tumble of emotion I felt in the pit of my stomach.
‘Doing great. Fantastic actually.’
‘That’s good.’ He pinched his shoulders up around his ears and my too-big smile faded by a fraction. ‘Only, Lyds said you hadn’t heard from him in a while. I figured he’d have been back by now.’
I didn’t have an answer. Lydia was correct and to be honest, I’d figured the same.
Jackson looked down at the ground while I raised my eyes to the sky to see the full moon peering down, quietly keeping an eye on us.
Spying. I felt a tug around my heart and a small gasp slipped through my lips.
The invisible string that kept me connected to Wyn, the one that had nothing to do with magic and everything to do with love.
I clutched the railing to keep myself upright as the sensation rolled through, sweeping me hundreds of miles away from Savannah to where he was, out in the woods, lost in the smell of earth, moss and mud, bowed down on hands and knees.
He was thinking of me right as his phase took hold, sharing the moment with me, the apprehension and the anticipation.
When he lifted his head, I saw through his eyes.
Wolves. Wolves everywhere. But I wasn’t afraid.
Wyn wasn’t afraid. Any fear in his heart melted away, replaced by a sense of purpose and exhilaration.
Suddenly, he threw his head back to release an ear-splitting howl as the wolf took over.
And then he disappeared.
‘Emily?’
Jackson grabbed my forearms as I returned to myself, to the DeSoto. I looked over at him, dazed, displaced. It was the first time I’d lost track of Wyn since he left Savannah and I was completely unmoored.
‘It’s OK—’ I started, but he wasn’t going to take my word for it this time.
‘So help me, if you say you’re fine one more time, I think I’m going to scream,’ he said. ‘Tell me what you saw.’
He truly looked as though he wanted to help, just like his sister, only Lydia wanted to run toward the magic, while Jackson wanted to run away from it.
‘Wyn.’ I nodded up toward the sky. ‘The moon just peaked. His pack is in its phase.’
‘You can feel that?’ he asked.
‘I can feel him,’ I answered. ‘Or at least, I could.’
‘You can’t sense the wolf?’
‘Can we talk about something else?’ The wolf was racing further and further away from me, leaving an unbearable emptiness where my heart should’ve been. ‘Anything, really. School, sports. College? Do you know where you want to go yet?’
‘There’s a shortlist,’ he replied. ‘What about you? You already graduated, right?’
‘Thanks to the wonder of homeschooling,’ I confirmed. ‘I was planning to travel for a year, visit some schools on the East Coast then enrol next fall. Dad wasn’t crazy about the idea of sending me off to college at seventeen.’
‘But?’
I attempted to block out the loss of Wyn and shook my head. ‘For a family without magic, you sure are good at reading minds.’
The corners of his eyes crinkled in response.
‘Just good at reading people. What’s stopping you following through on the plan?’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ I said. ‘Missing family members, mystical threats, that sort of thing. Not that being the subject of an ancient prophecy wouldn’t make for a killer personal essay, but what am I supposed to do, major in English and minor in apocalypse avoidance?’
‘Maybe the other way around. Just to be safe.’
‘Metaphysical poetry at nine, astral projection 101 at ten?’ I sighed and stood up straight, rubbing the indentations of the railings out of my forearms. ‘It might be easier to plan a future if someone had bothered to put together some sort of schedule, but there’s nothing.
No instructions, no QR code, batteries not included. ’
‘This does feel like an ancient-scroll-type situation,’ he agreed. ‘Or at least a stone tablet written in an archaic language we could translate as a summer project.’
The laugh that rattled out of me took me by surprise.
‘See?’ Jackson said with a sly grin. ‘I make you laugh – key sidekick trait.’
‘Key friend trait,’ I corrected. ‘And don’t think I don’t appreciate it.’
With a roll of his eyes, he brushed off the compliment. ‘Like we said, you can’t fight fate. You were always going to be stuck with me, one way or another.’
My eyes found his, a genuine, grateful smile playing on my lips.
‘This whole prophecy thing,’ he said. ‘It’s a whole lot of pressure to put on one person.’
The smile faltered.
‘Agreed,’ I said. ‘The powers that be could’ve shared out the responsibilities a little. Why do prophecies always pick one person? Why can’t it be a team?’
Jackson reached for my hand, his skin warm and soft as he squeezed it between both of his.
‘But there is a team. You’re not on your own, you know.’
Behind us, the doors to the terrace slid open and stayed open, a slow song echoing out from the dance floor.
‘Miss Emily James Bell.’ Jackson took a step back and bowed at the waist. ‘As your fated friend, may I have this dance?’
‘Mr Jackson Powell, you may,’ I said, accepting his arm and following him back inside, the sharp shift from the humid night to the chill of the air conditioning prickling my skin into goosebumps.