Chapter 12
Jared
For the first time in months, I wake genuinely excited for the day ahead.
There’s also a healthy dose of nerves contributing to the jittery feeling buzzing underneath my skin, but that’s plain common sense.
After work, I’ve got my first demon lesson with Huxley where he’ll begin teaching me how to control my powers.
I’m under no illusions that it will be an easy process but the kid in me who had a fascination with superheroes is crowing with excitement over the idea I might have cool abilities of my own. Of course, adult me is more cautious.
Thanks to the amulet neither Huxley nor Selene can tell what kind of demon I am yet, meaning there’s every chance whatever abilities I have might be better suited to your typical supervillain.
Whenever that possibility sends me spiralling, I remind myself that they both made it clear it’s not the type of powers but the individual behind them that matters.
Even if whatever abilities we unlock in these lessons are more sinister, Selene and Hux seem confident there will be a place within the supernatural community where I’ll be able to put them to good use.
A sigh that can only be described as wistful escapes me when I think of Selene’s steadfast reassurances.
Considering I’m still trying to get a read on her, I shouldn’t feel so at ease in her presence.
She’s a swirl of contradictions—firm but fair when dealing with her niece at the shop, confident in her abilities but self-conscious when I caught her daydreaming on our walk to her place last night.
There’s an air of mystery about her that the investigative reporter in me desperately wants to unveil.
In the short time we’ve spent together, I’ve hoarded each nugget of information about her like precious gems. Inviting her to dinner was spontaneous and mostly wishful thinking on my part—or so I thought.
After all, she only spent the evening answering my endless stream of questions because she felt guilty—I didn’t expect her to say yes.
The promise of more time with Selene only adds to my buoyant mood.
When I arrive at the office, I greet Ocean with a quick wave on my way through the reception.
Thanks to Selene’s run-down of naming conventions in the supe community, I now know Ocean is probably either a water fae or mer.
She’s momentarily startled—can’t say I blame her, even before my brush with death nobody ever accused me of being the cheery sort—but she rallies enough to respond with a belated wave of her own as I stride past her desk.
“You’re in a good mood this morning,” Huxley notes while I settle in at my desk to write up some of my interview notes from the past couple of days.
I’d been up for it in theory but was still unsure how I’d adjust to the slower pace at The Chronicle.
Working towards a weekly issue instead of the frantic pace and long hours required to churn out enough material for a nightly issue alongside my more in-depth investigative reports on The Raven for The Ledger has been a welcome change. Small-town life sure has its perks.
“Of course,” I reply. “I’m looking forward to our lesson later.”
“You sure that’s what put the spring in your step, not spending your evening with Selene?”
I nearly choke, doing my best not to spray my mouthful of coffee all over my keyboard. “What?” I splutter, still catching my breath. “How do you know about that?”
He grins devilishly. “We might work at the local newspaper, but nothing spreads information faster than the local gossip chain. Mav mentioned to Dove that he saw you and Selene leave Hunter’s Moon together.
She owns Sweet Dreams and is one of Selene’s best friends.
When I stopped by for my morning caffeine fix, Dove asked me about you since she knows we’re colleagues.
Between the morning rush and the supernaturally enhanced hearing capabilities of her clientele, word’s likely to spread fast. If I were you, I’d start preparing myself to be grilled by the locals when you head out for your next round of interviews—Selene doesn’t date, so a lot of folks are going to be curious. ”
“That’s… kind of terrifying.” I rub my palms over the side seams of my tailored navy trousers.
“Can’t be worse than finding out you’re a demon,” he jokes.
“Honestly, I’m not so sure.”
The last time my name was on everyone’s lips I was recovering from severe injuries and battling symptoms of PTSD.
I may have told Corbin I was fine in an effort to save my job, but the truth is I’m still fighting to get back to normal.
Or at least a new version of normal that doesn’t include me feeling like everyone’s out to get me.
I’m not sure I can handle people whispering about me wherever I go, even if it’s about something completely different.
“Hey, don’t worry about it. I know it can take some getting used to, but that’s just how things are here. We’re a tight-knit community. Everyone knows everyone else’s business, but nobody means any harm by it.”
“I’m not a fan of the spotlight, that’s all.”
“Prefer to be writing the news not making it?”
“Exactly.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, they’ll all forget about you and Selene the moment the next thing happens, and there’s always a next thing. I give it two days tops before a fresh scandal takes root.”
I manage a chuckle at that. “That helps, thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. Now focus up. Can’t have you running late for your first demon lesson because you got behind on work. I hear your teacher’s a real taskmaster.” He smirks, making me groan. What have I let myself in for?
Anticipation pumps through my veins as I walk over to the town square. Huxley was needed out of the office this afternoon, but before he left we agreed to meet at the gazebo for my first lesson.
“Are you sure it’s safe to practise here?
” I ask, joining him under the bright white gazebo.
Either the town council is seriously on the ball with maintenance or there’s magic keeping the thing so clean.
Now I think about it, I’ve not noticed a single crack in the pavement, pothole in the roads, or displaced cobblestone since moving here.
I file the thought away for another time.
“Unless we head further out of town towards Pack territory, this is our best bet. Selene set a privacy ward for us around the gazebo—you just missed her—so nobody will come up and bother us. This means we’ve got a nice open space in case you have a power surge and, unlike my back garden, we’re far enough away from any buildings that there’s no chance of you causing any structural damage.
Well, apart from the gazebo, but we can’t have everything.
” He shrugs as though potential damage to town property is no big deal.
“That response wasn’t as reassuring as you think it was.”
His mischievous grin is back. “Meh, I’m here to teach you, not coddle you.” Fair. “Take a seat and we’ll get started.” He points to the plaid blanket spread over the floor in the middle of the gazebo. Dutifully, I fold myself into a cross-legged position.
“Alright.” Huxley rubs his hands together eagerly, joining me on the floor.
“We’re going to start with learning to sense your own magic and the magic around you.
It might not work right away while you’re still wearing the dampener, but I still want you to try.
That way, when you take the amulet off, there’s a better chance of you being able to handle the sudden influx of magic. ”
My chest tightens. The seriousness of the situation is sinking in. “OK. What do I do?”
“Close your eyes and focus inward. Imagine the core of your being made up of all the things that make you who you are. Try not to get distracted by any one thing—think of it as a whole. I like to imagine a ball of light.”
I close my eyes and do as I’m told, instinctively focusing in on the spot beneath my sternum. Memories leap to the surface, some happy, others not. I try picturing everything in a swirling ball of light like Huxley suggested, but the image isn’t working for me.
“Sorry,” I say, frustrated I’m struggling with literally the very first thing he’s asked of me.
“Don’t worry, you’re doing great. It can take a few tries to get it right—remember this is only your first lesson. Keep trying,” he encourages.
“OK.” I take a deep breath in. Exhale. Focus.
Instead of the ball of light, I picture the lake the town is named after.
When a memory tries to ripple across the top, I imagine it sinking beneath the waterline until the surface is smooth and glassy.
It takes a couple of tries, then I’m able to hold the image in my mind’s eye.
Once I’m sure it won’t break my concentration, I say, “Got it.”
“Well done.” Huxley’s tone is bright with surprise. “What are you picturing?”
“The lake.”
“Hmm, interesting.” Before I can ask why that’s so interesting, he moves on. “Alright, now instead of letting all those thoughts and memories come to you, I want you to imagine putting yourself right in the very centre of it all.”
I picture myself walking above the lake until I’m right in the middle, then imagine slowly sinking beneath the surface. The water is welcoming, safe.
Something must change in my expression because Huxley asks, “How do you feel?”
“At peace.” Tears burn behind my closed eyelids as I realise just how long it’s been since I felt safety like this. Not since my adoptive parents died. Emotion swells within me, a broken sob escaping my lips as I desperately cling to this feeling. I never want to leave this place.
“You’re doing great, Jared. It’s normal to feel emotional the first time you connect with your magic. I should have warned you. I’m sorry.”
“This… this feeling is my magic?” I croak.
“Yes.”
“Is this how you feel all the time?” I ask, awed.
“It’s different for everyone.”
“What does yours feel like?”