Chapter 28
DARCIE
All of my pent-up emotion, combined with my growing frustration at my lack of control with my powers, manifests into an unexpectedly successful training session.
“Outstanding, Darcie!” Mistress Lola claps her hands. “Brava!”
I want to bask in the praise, but I hold my focus on the orb of light hovering in the air in front of me. It’s small, barely bigger than a ping-pong ball, but the tiny sphere of power is a monumental achievement.
Failure has haunted me for weeks.
And now…this. Proof that I have some control. Proof that I can do this.
The orb is far more impressive than the weak shield I conjured weeks ago with Henry. It’s brighter. Denser. Real. It hums faintly, as if it has a pulse.
When I’m confident looking away won’t make the orb disappear, I shoot a grin toward Gregory, who watches from a park bench a dozen feet away.
“Do you see this?” I ask.
“I see it.” His amusement makes my smile grow.
The vice around my lungs loosens. I can’t remember the last time I felt this…capable.
Not able to tear my gaze away for long, I look back at my creation. I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to hold it before it vanishes. But it looks steady. Like it wants to stay.
I could stare at it all day.
“Try to increase its size,” Mistress Lola instructs, shifting closer. “Lift your hand like so, and aim to trickle more power into it.”
She mimes the action.
I nod and raise my arm. With my palm facing the delicate shape, I furrow my brow and concentrate. I imagine the orb is a ball of yarn, and I’m wrapping more thread around its electrifying surface, layer by layer, careful not to tangle the strands.
Nothing happens.
I bite my lip, willing the power to obey my mental image. My pulse thrums loudly in my ears. Sweat trickles down my back. After a few more seconds of intense focus, a thin tendril of light finally seeps out of my palm.
Relief hits so hard it makes me dizzy.
The strip of power stretches slowly toward the suspended orb, closing the space between my hand and the light. It sizzles when it makes contact before seeping into the orb.
My arm begins to shake. The muscle strains, burning with effort.
“That’s it,” Mistress Lola murmurs, watching closely. “Now, carefully cut off the lingering strand. Good. That’s it. Gently guide the last portion into the ball.”
I listen, gnawing on my lip without realizing it until I taste blood.
I don’t stop. Not until the last bit of light merges into the orb and the strand disappears.
My arm drops with a shaky sigh, but the orb remains.
“Incredible.” Mistress Lola beams. The orb is now twice its original size. “Absolutely incredible. That was amazing progress, Darcie.”
“I don’t know how I did that,” I admit, still staring, afraid that it’ll vanish if I blink. “I didn’t do anything different from the other times.”
“Sometimes, all it takes is a new day with a fresh start,” Mistress Lola says knowingly.
Then she adds, “The amount of control and restraint you demonstrate rivals those of our kin with years more experience. I am very impressed.”
I straighten my spine despite the exhaustion in my limbs. “Should I try something else? Maybe I can try to rein in the orb?”
She shakes her head. “You have done enough for today. We do not want you to overexert yourself after such an impressive display.”
She lifts her own arm and flicks her fingers toward the orb.
The ball disappears instantly. Clean. Effortless.
Envy grips me.
Mistress Lola notices and smiles softly. “Do not worry. Soon, you will be able to manipulate power just as efficiently.”
I don’t quite believe it, but I say, “I hope so.”
With that, the afternoon session ends.
“Want to get out of here and go check out some sights?” I ask Gregory as we walk back into the safehouse. Mistress Lola has already hurried away somewhere. My gut says she’s off to report on my training success.
“I’m sorry,” he says, “but I have work to do.”
“Oh.” I try not to let my disappointment show. “That’s okay.”
Without Gregory, there’s no way I’ll be allowed to leave. Not with my mother hovering like a storm cloud just waiting to break. There’s no way she’s changed her mind about me leaving the stronghold after just one day.
Gregory and I go our separate ways. I search for Paige, but she’s nowhere to be found.
Resigned to being alone, I make my way back to my temporary room, only to stop dead in my tracks at the figure standing at the end of the hallway.
I blink, but the sight remains.
“Henry?”
The warlock turns away from the historical map of Virginia hanging on the wall by my bedroom door. “Hello, Darcie. Nice to see you again.”
“What are you doing here?” I close the distance between us, my heart racing in my chest. “Is everything alright in Greece? Has something happened?”
Are Eshe and Lome okay? Is Des?
“Yes, yes. Everything is fine. I’m simply here to assist Alex with tonight’s reconnaissance mission.”
Reconnaissance mission?
Why would our task force need Henry when we have two Nightsbane witches?
I swallow down the question. “Oh.”
Henry waves a hand down the hallway behind him. “I just overheard Mistress Lola telling your mother of your successful training session. Congratulations.”
I force a smile. “Thank you.”
Henry has never been chatty. This version of him is…surprising.
“Of course.” He smiles. The expression makes him look years younger. “I was wondering if you’d like to come?”
“Come?”
“On the mission.” He tilts his head. “I think you’ve proven you can handle it. Don’t you?”
I gape. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. Come. Let’s speak with the others.”
I hurry after him as he strides down the hallway, my head spinning.
Does Henry somehow have more pull over the task force? More than my mother or Lola?
Creator help me, I hope so.
I am dying to get out of this house and do something productive.
“Where are we going?” I ask as we navigate the older home’s long, narrow halls.
“The study.”
One flight of stairs later, we cross the threshold of the crowded room with a massive table centered in the space, covered in papers. A glance reveals maps, notes, and pictures of buildings I don’t recognize.
And around that table, Lucas, Alexander, Gregory, and my mother speak in low, urgent tones.
Henry clears his throat.
Every eye swings to us.
“Henry,” Lucas greets, straightening and stepping away from the table to clasp the warlock’s hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“As am I,” Henry replies.
The others take turns calling out their greetings, and Henry returns them.
The warlock is so different here. In Greece, he was stoic and strictly business during our training. Not unkind, just distant. Professional.
Now, he’s cordial. Easy going. It’s like he’s another person.
Maybe it’s because he isn’t my trainer anymore, and the Immortals aren’t breathing down his neck.
“Did the Council give you instructions for how they would like us to proceed tonight?” my mother asks, interrupting the niceties.
She doesn’t look at me. Not even a glance. Her focus stays on Henry. I’m a ghost in the doorway.
“No. I’m only here to report back on the evening’s events,” Henry replies with a deferential nod. “Think of me as a fly on the wall.”
Some of the tension leaves my mother’s shoulders. “Good. You can monitor the situation from the surveillance van with Paige. She’s savvy with technology, but we could use another pair of eyes in case something goes awry.”
“What?” The word bursts out of me before I can stop them. “Paige is still going?”
I thought Lucas would change his mind about including his daughter after hearing my mother’s concerns.
My mother ignores me.
“Paige and Lola are currently double-checking the van’s equipment,” she tells Henry. “You should join them. They’re in the garage.”
“Of course.” Henry shoots me an apologetic glance before he leaves.
A pulse of unfairness punches through my chest so hard it hurts.
Suddenly, Gregory is at my side.
“Come.” His hand touches my elbow. “Let’s get you something to eat.”
Too furious to do anything but comply, I spin on my heel and stalk out of the study. Gregory’s silent steps follow.
I make it to the kitchen before I finally whirl on him.
“Seriously?” My voice comes out sharp. “Paige is allowed to go tonight?”
Gregory doesn’t blink. “It appears so.”
“That is bullshit.”
“Her father is permitting it,” he says, as if that explains everything.
It doesn’t.
“Then why is my mom still choosing to be a ridiculous, overbearing dictator?”
My mother’s voice carries down the hallway, “Because, unlike Paige, you are a target for Adir.”
I stiffen and turn.
Jennifer and Alex enter the kitchen.
I cross my arms and glare. “Are you two buddy-buddy again?”
Alex’s expression is stoic, but my mother frowns.
“I’ve already explained this to you, Darcie. It isn’t safe for you to leave the safehouse.”
“No one will know I’m there.”
“You don’t know what people will know,” she counters. “This situation is complicated. It is not always clear who we can trust.”
“And yet, you are all going?”
Her eyes narrow. “Who is to say Gregory’s contact for tonight wasn’t instructed to share the intel with him? Perhaps someone is hoping to draw us out. To draw you out.”
“You’re being paranoid.” I look at Gregory for backup. “The intel is genuine. Right?”
Gregory stays silent.
Of course he does.
He isn’t going to pick a side, not when Alex is here.
“Your mother is right, Darcie.” Alex shifts forward until he and Jennifer stand shoulder to shoulder. They’re a united front.
Against me.
“It is best for you to stay here where we know you will be safe,” Alex’s voice adopts a placating, belittling tone. “Until Adir is neutralized, you will be in danger no matter where you go.”
My blood begins to boil. My hands start to tingle.
Not just because of the words, but because of the image.
Alex stands beside my mother, backing her, like I’m a child throwing a tantrum instead of a person begging not to be left behind.
Begging to make a difference and help find her missing friend.
Begging for an ounce of control in her own life.
Something inside me breaks.
I don’t even realize I’m moving until my arm swings down, the tingling sensation in my hand zips through the limb.
A slash of bright-white light arcs from my arm and flies into the space between me and my mother.
The world stills. Time slows.
Horror grips my chest.
No!
Alex moves first. With his vampire speed, he grabs my mother and yanks her to the side.
At the same time, Gregory closes the distance between us in a blur. His strong hand clamps around my arms, pinning them to my sides.
Still, the power soars to my mother.
In slow motion, falling to the side from Alex’s pull, my mother’s palm faces the attack.
A bolt of purple power crashes into mine.
A loud crack splits the air, and Gregory and I are thrown backward.
My back slams into the ground, the impact punching the breath out of me. Pain flares. My vision blurs as I gasp and cough, rolling onto my side to drag air into my lungs.
Beside me, Gregory coughs too, but he recovers faster, already climbing to his feet and helping me sit up.
My eyes dart wildly across the room.
My mother and Alex are both sitting up. Unharmed.
Relief hits me so fast I almost vomit.
Alex stands and offers his hand to my mother.
She doesn’t take it. She doesn’t even look at it.
Her focus locks on me, and her face is pure fury.
“I didn’t mean…I had no idea…” I scramble for words that scratch my throat.
But I don’t get the chance to apologize.
My mother lifts both hands, and a net-like projection shoots from her fingertips and slams into me.
For one terrifying second, I can’t breathe.
It’s like the air has been stolen from my lungs.
Then the sensation shifts.
The net seeps into my skin, cold and invasive, like something crawling beneath my flesh.
I gasp and cough.
Across the room, Alex’s eyes widen with an emotion so intense it makes my stomach drop. I can’t tell if it’s fear.
Or horror.
“W-what was that?” I choke out.
Gregory’s hand appears in front of me. He helps me up, steadying me when my knees wobble.
My mother rises smoothly to her feet and looks at me like I’m something volatile. Dangerous.
“A restraining spell.”
Beside me, Gregory stiffens.
Alex sucks in a sharp breath.
I blink. “A what?”
“A restraining spell,” she repeats, brushing off arms like she's brushing away dust. “Clearly, you cannot control yourself. This spell will ensure you remain in this house and keep your powers subdued.”
My brain stutters as I scramble to make sense of the words.
When I do, blood drains from my face.
No.
No, no, no.
“Take it off,” I demand. My hands curl into fists. They feel different now. Muted. Like my power is behind a wall I didn’t build. “Now.”
My mother’s face hardens. “No.”
“Jennifer,” Alex murmurs.
Her head snaps toward him. “You do not get an opinion here, Alex.”
She turns back to me, voice flat and final, “I will remove the spell when I return.”
Without another word, she leaves.
I stand there, stunned and trembling, staring at the doorway.
I want to scream.
I want to cry.
I want to do both until my throat is shredded.
Across the room, Alex looks like he’s about to say something, but then he presses his lips together, deciding against it.
With one last regretful glance, he leaves.
And I’m left there, restrained, humiliated, and furious, wondering how many times the people around me can keep calling my circumstances protection when it’s nothing more than a well-disguised cage.