Chase Tinker & The House of Magic (37 page)

Loud knocking at the door jerked him out of
his stupor. "Chase? Are you okay?" called Persephone, sounding
worried. "You've been in there a long time."

"Yeah, yeah," he answered. "I'm
just…resting."

"I wanted to let you know Andy was asking for
you. He wants to know what happened after he was knocked out."

"Tell him I'll tell him everything later. I—I
can't talk right now."

"And your dad—"

"I don't want to talk to him right now
either," he cut in.

He heard her heave a loud sigh. "I'm here if
you need to talk about anything—anything at all."

"No!" he answered, with a little too much
force. "I'm fine, okay?"

"Oh, all right," she said in a small voice.
"I guess I'll leave then."

He didn't mean to be rude. He only wanted to
be left alone. The sound of her footsteps faded away down the hall.
Now all he heard was the quiet whirring of the ceiling fan mingled
with the humming in his mind. He just couldn't stop that
humming.

Was Persephone right? Was he, like
Grandfather, more powerful than he ever imagined?

And, did this happen to every Tinker, or just
him? He barely remembered the rage that had taken him over and
caused him to use his ability with such force. It was like he'd
been moving on instinct alone. At that moment it had been way too
easy to send Roland Marlowe off to who knew where.

He shifted on the floor, finding another cool
spot. Thank God Andy was going to be all right. His dad had also
survived Maven's attack with nothing more than a bruised elbow from
his tumble to the floor.

His dad. He was home at last, but he'd been
here all along. Right under their noses and they hadn't even
realized it. It scared the heck out of Chase to see his dad
attacked by the Marlowes. But, even after all that, he still didn't
have it in him to forgive Benjamin. Maybe one day…but not
tonight.

And Aunt Clair was—dead. It sure didn't seem
right that they had to lose one person to gain another. Chase's
eyes burned as he stared at the ceiling fan. He watched the blades
rotating, round and round and round. It was rather hypnotizing.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
So much had happened this summer; much more than he'd expected, or
planned. In just two short months, he'd found, and lost, more than
he ever would've imagined. He definitely wasn't the same person
who'd first walked through that magical front door at the beginning
of the summer. No way would he ever be able to return to being just
a plain-old-every-day kid again. And, no matter what his parents
said, he was
not
leaving the Tinker house to go back to New
York.

This is where I belong,
was Chase's
last thought, right before he fell asleep.