Bone Spell Page 5

  Oh, something was cooking here. Something big and juicy, but not necessarily delicious.

  “Change of plans, Ezra. You better buckle up. We’re going to break into your parents’ house,” I said, excited for a change. Since his parents were already at my aunt’s, it was going to be a walk in the park. Something in that place had to give me an idea of what I was dealing with here, and I was going to find out exactly who Ezra was and why my aunt and Bender refused to tell me about it.

  Seven

  A spell to reveal one’s nature…now where on Earth was I going to get that?

  All the Wayne family spells were with my aunt Amelia, and it’s useless to say that they were out of reach. Hedge magic probably had tons of stuff like that, but I wasn’t so sure about Bone.

  “What about Blood?” I whispered at myself. Blood magic was strong. They probably had reveal spells somewhere. How else would the ECU know exactly who their prisoners were?

  “Blood?” Ezra asked. I realized I’d spoken out loud.

  “Just thinking about a spell that could tell us exactly what you are and why your parents keep you hidden,” I mumbled, tapping the steering wheel with my fingers as I waited for the address Finn was going to text me. I hadn’t bothered with a call, but I’d included a send me an invoice at the end of my text. That’s how I knew the old werewolf would deliver.

  I’d parked the car far away from Amelia’s house, just in case somebody saw us. A long drive was probably ahead of us, but right now, I didn’t mind. It was going to be perfect in keeping me busy, far away from thoughts of Julian and Jane Dunham. I really did need the break.

  “That doesn’t sound nice,” Ezra breathed.

  “Oh, no. No, don’t worry about it. Spells like that requite a drop of your blood or a hair from your head or something like that. No pain, I promise.” He probably couldn’t tell that I had no idea what I was talking about.

  “Can you do something like that?” the kid asked.

  “Oh, no. My magic isn’t that advanced.” I wouldn’t even know where to start, and since my magic was a mix of Bone and fairy, it was dangerous to even try it.

  “Who can?”

  Shivers washed down my back. Julian spent a century pretending to be a Blood witch. He was better at throwing spells than anyone I ever saw before, even though his magic was fairy. Unfortunately for the both of us, he didn’t live on Earth. And even if he did, right now, I wouldn’t even know how to go about looking for him, or what to say once I saw him. Complications, complications. Maybe I’m just taking myself too seriously? Could be.

  Before I could answer, my phone vibrated with a new text message. No wonder everybody wanted to hire Finn even though he was expensive as hell. The guy was incredibly fast. Putting the address in my phone application, I turned Turtle’s ignition on.

  “Let’s just go see your house first. If that doesn’t tell us anything, we’ll figure out a way to find out what you are,” I said to Ezra.

  “Why? What do you think I am?” The kid sounded hurt, which made me feel like an asshole.

  Biting my tongue, I reminded myself to be more careful with my choice of words when speaking to him. He was just ten, for God’s sake.

  I cleared my throat and tried again. “Um…special. I think you’re very special, that’s all. I wouldn’t worry about a thing if I were you.” Through the corner of my eye, I could see Ezra tucking his hands away under his thighs. It looked like I blew it.

  “You think something’s wrong with me, so that’s why my parents keep me hidden?” Ezra asked.

  Blood rushed to my cheeks. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Ezra. You’ll see, really soon, I promise.” I had no idea what else to say.

  Suddenly, I thought of Lynn. She had been only fifteen years old when she sort of worked with me, or was my apprentice, or whatever, but talking to her had been nothing like talking to a kid. Now, I was even more convinced that she was an adult hiding in a teenager’s body.

  Er…that came out wrong.

  What I meant was that she was really mature for her age. And tough, too. I missed the little devil, and I couldn’t wait to have her in my office again. If she were there, she would probably know exactly how to speak to Ezra, because she already had a younger brother.

  Ezra stayed silent for the rest of the way. I thought we’d drive for hours, but we reached our destination in only one.

  The neighborhood didn’t exactly scream safe. It was worse than Bender’s old house, the one those vampires burned to the ground to send me a message seven months ago. The buildings were dark, the few people walking the streets in a hurry. Ezra swallowed so hard, I heard it all the way from my seat. Following his eyes, mine landed on a two-story house with grey walls and a half-broken fence gate. Blinds on the windows, so I had no idea if somebody was inside.

  But the house was small, so going through the backdoor wouldn’t be a problem. Checking it from bottom to top wouldn’t be hard, either. And it was old, too, so if there were any locks to break, I could do that with my feet. A gunshot would probably attract too much attention. It definitely looked easy enough.

  “What about your sisters?” I asked Ezra.

  “School,” he whispered. “They’re in school until four.” So, we had more than enough time.

  “Do you want to go in with me?” He only shook his head. “That’s okay. Can you tell me where your parent’s room is, or where they keep those reports you mentioned?”

  “Their room is the only one in the first floor. They keep everything in there,” he said reluctantly.

  I wanted to open the door, but then something stopped me. The boy was obviously feeling guilty for this. Chances were, I was going to blow it again, but I just couldn’t leave him there without telling him that he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

  “Listen, Ezra, you’re doing the right thing, okay? It’s not your fault that you ran away, or that you’re back here. It’s your right to find out why you’ve been kept hidden all your life. There’s nothing to feel bad about.”

  When he met my eyes, I felt the need to hug the kid, but I held myself. He just looked so sad. “Okay.” It was obvious that he didn’t believe me.

  With no idea what else to say to make him believe me, I climbed out of the car.

  The only two people coming our way didn’t even look at me twice. Turtle blended perfectly with the other cars parked in front of the houses, so I didn’t think I looked suspicious. Keeping my head down, I rushed toward Ezra’s house. When I reached the fence, I sniffed hard. If the place was spelled, the smell of wet wood and menthol was going to be strong.

  As I suspected, there was no smell that indicated magic had been performed around the place anytime in the past few days. With a deep breath, I looked around to make sure nobody was following me, and I went through the broken gate.

  Running to the side of the house and back probably wasn’t necessary—nobody seemed to be there, but one could never be too sure. The backyard looked even worse than the front. Overgrown grass, a couple of headless dolls on the ground, and lots of cigarette butts, too. Definitely no smell close to the backdoor. Without allowing myself a chance to think twice, I tried the knob. It groaned loudly but didn’t give—until I kicked it with my sneaker.

  Then, it opened and slammed against the wall on the inside.

  The smell hit me hard. I froze for a second, expecting whatever spell I’d broken to raise alarms and attack me.

  Nothing did. Grabbing a gun in my hand, I stepped inside. The smell was already starting to fade. There were no active spells in the house, but there sure as hell had been until recently. Maybe until that morning, when Ezra’s parents found out he was gone?

  Closing the door behind me, I went deeper into the house. The backdoor led into a small pantry. Everything in there was clean and arranged in perfect order, which made me wonder about the backyard. The kitchen was the same. No dishes in the sink, the small dining table shining as if it had just been cleaned. A narrow corridor led to t
he front door and the living room. The furniture was old and worn, but all was clean enough to eat on. Everything was in its place in that room, too. Even the TV remote was put in row with the lines carved on the small, round table in front of the sofa.

  To the other side of the living room was another corridor with two doors across from one another. One was the bathroom, and the other, the master bedroom.

  Finally, a room where everything wasn’t in its place. I was starting to feel bad about myself for cleaning once a week. Or three weeks.

  It was obvious that whoever had been there last, had been in a hurry. Both drawers from the nightstands around the bed were open, stuff around the small lamps thrown without regard. The door to the closet was half open, the clothes inside perfectly folded on the open shelves. Putting my gun away, I went for the nightstand to the left.

  Band aids, nail clipper, a few bobby pins and hair ties, a lighter, a small notebook with names on it that didn’t make any sense, and deeper in the drawers, there was an envelope. It was open. My heart raced as I reached for it.

  Empty.

  Cursing under my breath, I made my way to the other side of the bed—the man’s nightstand. Three packs of cheap condoms, an almost empty bottle of cologne, a comb with a few broken teeth, and two sports car magazines. No envelope.

  But…the magazines looked kind of stuffed. I picked one up and opened it. Bingo.

  You don’t keep a bunch of folded papers inside a magazine if you don’t want to hide them, do you?

  Unfolding them carefully, I took a look back at the door just in case someone was there, though my ears were on high alert and I hadn’t heard a single thing move except myself.

  The first letter was a printed report of some sort. My heart picked up as I began to read.

  January 15th, 2013

  Debriefing with Ezra Jacob Malone

  Vital signs, p

  Physical shape of organs, p

  Sight and hearing, p

  Verbal skills, n

  Focus, n

  Magic, 1.75

  Rating: 7/10

  A pronounced difficulty in focus noted. Magical abilities minimal. Knowledge of his nature, zero. Levels of energy, high.

  For the next trimester: keep EJM away from conversations and sight of magic. Drain his energy with physical activities before bed time. Keep away from siblings (if possible). Keep inside only for the next ninety days.

  Please have this note with you in the next debriefing.

  Signed by Monica Raymond

  I read and re-read the letter a couple of times before the words finally began to register in my brain. When they did, Monica Raymond’s face came to mind. In 2013, the Bone coven hadn’t existed. The coven leaders never even got together, as far as anyone knew in the decade that followed the death of their children by the hands of the Hedge witches.

  So why was her signature on the bottom of the second letter?

  My God, Ezra had been right. If I’d doubted him before, this was more than enough proof that the coven leaders knew about him—and better yet, they actually asked his parents to keep him inside only for the next ninety days. Folding the letters again and putting them in my back pocket, I tried to focus and search for something else, something that would tell me what exactly Ezra was, because he sure as hell was a big deal. A very big deal. Big enough to go meet coven leaders once every three months.

  Poor kid. Did he even remember those debriefings? Or did they put some sort of a spell on him to forget?

  For a very long time, I had deliberately let myself forget what it was like to be angry at my aunt for keeping me and my mother away all her life. But now, as I made my way out of the house, that anger came back with its full strength. She was part of the coven, and if the coven leaders had known about Ezra even when the coven was broken apart, then I had no doubt in my mind that Amelia knew about him, too.

  There is little I consider unacceptable in my world, but doing something like this to a kid? It definitely topped my list.

  My mind was made up to go back to her house and kick the door down, and I wasn’t going to leave until she told me exactly why Bone witches had made a prisoner out of Ezra Jacob Malone.

  Eight

  I ran back to the car without checking if anybody had seen me come out of Ezra’s house. I was too pissed off to bother. Cursing under my breath, I tried to envision what my confrontation with my aunt would be like. Would she try to throw me out again? Or would she freeze when I mentioned Ezra’s name?

  I had no idea, but when I got in the car, I didn’t expect to see the boy frozen.

  For a second, I held my breath and stared at him. He had his eyes opened, looking through the windshield but not seeing anything, his hands on his knees. I waited and waited, but he didn’t even breathe.

  “Ezra?” I put a hand on his shoulder as panic filled my head. “Ezra, are you okay?”

  But Ezra wasn’t okay. As soon as the words left my mouth, he began to shake, really badly, as if he was being electrocuted. Running out of the car and to the other side, I pulled the passenger door open and grabbed both his shoulders in an attempt to make him stay put, but he wouldn’t. White foam began to come out of his lips and his eyes glazed over. I’d seen a lot of things in my days, was probably going to see a lot more, but nothing had scared me the way the sight of Ezra’s face did in those moments.

  Conjuring a healing spell was dangerous because I didn’t have enough attention to give to my wild magic, but it was the only thing I could think of. In a shaky whisper, I began to chant the words of the spell, trying but failing to hold Ezra still.

  I wasn’t even done with the spell, when he, very suddenly, just stopped shaking and his body turned rock hard. Barely breathing, I took his face in my hands and turned it to me.

  “Ezra, look at me. Look at me,” I repeated, over and over again, until his eyes moved to my face, extremely slowly. When he saw me, his brows shot up as if he were surprised. White foam no longer came out of his lips. It looked like the seizure was over. Except…

  “Winter,” Ezra breathed, and his pupils dilated. I could see myself in them, and even my reflection knew that the way he said my name couldn’t possibly mean anything good.

  The sound of a gunshot that reached my ears the next second confirmed it.

  Heart in my throat, instinct took over my body and I pushed Ezra towards the driver’s seat. “Stay down!” I shouted and slammed the door shut. Grabbing a gun and a knife, my beads buzzing in excitement, I took in deep breaths to calm my heart before I looked at the street, at where the gunshot had come from.

  What had I thought breaking into Ezra’s house would be like? A walk in the park?

  Well, someone was there to make it rain, and I couldn’t wait to find out who it was.

  Conjuring my shield and expanding it all the way around the car would be pointless, because using that much magic and focus to maintain it would mean being vulnerable and too weak to fight off whoever was shooting at us. So, counting to three, I kept my shield around my body and jumped to my feet.

  At first, I didn’t recognize the three people standing on the other side of the street, looking at me, aiming their guns at my head. But then, the violet of their eyes shone and their ears couldn’t be missed. Holy spell, they were fairies. Seelie fairies, if I had to guess by their tan and blond hair—and they were pretty huge for fairies, too.

  “Good day, boys. How may I help you?” I said when a moment passed and none of them said a thing. My beads were right in front of their faces, just waiting for me to think about destroying their eye sockets, buzzing like busy bees. My gun was ready, too, finger on the trigger, and I held my knife with only two fingers, so that when I needed to throw it, all I had to do was swing my arm.

  “We’re here for the boy. We don’t want any trouble,” the fairy on the left said.

  “What boy?” I asked, but my voice broke, even if somehow it wasn’t obvious that Ezra was in the car. The fairy raised his brows and loo
ked at Turtle. “Oh! That boy,” I said, shaking my head. I’d keep the show going for as long as I could. I’d already made a plan of how to kill all of them, but imagining details never hurt. “See, I’d love to give him to you. I would. But I kind of like him. I was thinking about keeping him, if you don’t mind.”

  The fairy on the left took a step forward, and his friends followed. “Suit yourself.”

  I was already leaning down behind the car by the time he shot his gun, and my beads made for his face. I swung my arm back and threw my knife and took out another before the first hit its target. When I threw the second at the one in the middle, I jumped to my feet again, confident that they’d be too distracted to shoot at me. I was right. I managed to put down my shield and fire my gun four times. I hit two of them on their torsos. But I was also wrong.

  The magic that slammed against my chest threw me back a couple of feet and right into the lawn of one of the houses. I hadn’t calculated the time I’d have to conjure my shield back up properly, and by the time I did that and ran for the car, one of the fairies was already by the driver’s door. Focusing my beads on his face, I threw another knife at the fairy’s middle and hit him on the side of his neck. Blood exploded, but I had no time to enjoy the show because the third fairy was already running for me, throwing his magic that kept clashing against my shield and making pretty sparkles appear out of thin air.

  When the fairy was close enough to me, I dropped my shield and fell to my knees. Swinging my arm as far as I could, the curved blade of my knife cut through both his thighs, his blood splattering on my face. Without giving him a chance to even blink, I spun around with my right leg stretched, and took his feet from under him. He hit the ground on his side hard, and a kick to his nose with all my strength knocked him out cold.

  To my horror, when I looked up, I saw the guy with my knife still inside his neck, opening the door to the driver’s seat of Turtle. Focusing my beads on the handle of the knife, I ran fast, and when the beads hit the knife repeatedly, pieces of flesh fell on the asphalt. By the time I reached him, he had already fallen to his knees, trying to get my knife out of his neck while pushing my beads away. I did him a favor when I did a clean cut to the untouched parts of his neck.