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Authors: Amity Hope

Malice (7 page)

BOOK: Malice
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Finola’s cheeks heated up. With her fair skin, her blush looked almost painful.

“Wait,” I said as my mind finished processing what she’d said. “He wouldn’t give you names. But that means he has names?”

Daphne shrugged. “I think so, yeah. He was really vague and we didn’t talk about it long. But I knew that Fin would be curious about Alex.”

Fin let out an annoyed huff.

“He could be lying about Alex’s family,” I said. This earned me an annoyed huff from both Finola and Daphne.

“I don’t think he’d lie to me,” Daphne said.

“Of course you would think the worst of Alex’s family,” Finola tacked on.

I backtracked, remembering that I was trying to have a more positive attitude toward the Grayson’s. “All I meant was that we don’t know Levi. He could say whatever he wanted about any family he wanted.”

“Why would he do that?” Daphne asked.

I shrugged, realizing I was just burying myself deeper. I needed a subject change. And fortunately for me, the best distraction possible had just walked through the door.

I lightly kicked Finola’s foot under the table and nodded with my head toward the front of the coffee house. Her eyes snapped open wide and then she immediately brought her gaze back to her cocoa. She reached for it, taking a long, deliberate sip.

“Oh for the love of…,” Daphne muttered. She held out her hand, muttered the word ‘pen’ and one appeared in her palm. She reached across me and plucked a napkin out of the dispenser. Finola and I shared a confused look as Daphne began scribbling. I peeked over her arm and realized it was Finola’s name, along with her phone number.

“What are you doing?” Finola asked, her tone dripping with suspicion.

“What you should’ve done months ago,” Daphne said. With a swish of her hand, the napkin floated up off the table.


Daphne
,” Finola said in a warning tone.

It was too late. The napkin was already fluttering across tables. Finola moved, as if to jump up, but apparently she realized she’d never reach it in time. With a horrified little whimper she fell back into the booth. Her eyes were wide as her hands gripped the edge of the table. Her knuckles turned white. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she was able to pull herself together enough to get the words out.

“What did you do?!” she whisper shrieked.

As if it wasn’t already obvious, the napkin floated to Alex, gently skimming across his hand. He was standing near the counter, second in line. He glanced down as the napkin fluttered to the floor.

Finola let out a strangled sound as he leaned over. While his attention was otherwise diverted, she bolted out of our booth and raced to the door. The bells jingled above her head as Alex swiped the napkin up. He looked over his shoulder in time to see her backside as she scurried across the street.

He glanced at the napkin for several long seconds. Then he glanced toward the door again. A smile slowly crept across his face. He continued to watch Finola, who was fumbling with her car keys, trying to let herself in, until it was his turn to order.

“I think that went well,” Daphne decided. She looked supremely pleased with herself. She slid around to the seat Finola had just vacated so she could face me. I squirmed, not too excited to be the sole recipient of her attention. “It’s been a productive day,” she declared. She glanced at Alex who was studying the napkin again, still smiling as he waited for his order. “I bet he calls her by the end of the week. And
you
, I heard you decided to go out with my brother after all.”

“I just hope I don’t regret it,” I muttered.

She smirked at me, as if she had a secret. “You won’t. Everything is falling into place perfectly.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7

After making sure that Magnolia was curled up on the sofa with a stack of books, I tiptoed to Mom’s study. She’d left to run some errands. I wasn’t sure how long she would be gone.

She hadn’t seemed quite as stressed the last few nights. Possibly because Magnolia hadn’t been caught cheating on any more tests. But even so, she didn’t seem quite like herself. I’d asked what was bothering her but she’d brushed me off. She’d told me there was nothing to worry about. Yet, no matter how she tried to hide it, it was clear that she was worrying all the time.

As I crept into the room I shoved away the feeling that I was snooping. I wasn’t snooping. I was helping. Whatever was going on with Mom, it was clear she needed some support.

I easily found the book because it was one I’d recognized. It was a thin volume simply entitled
The Elements
. I’d looked through the book many times.

I settled into Mom’s chair, pulling the book close to me. I carefully flipped through the pages, searching for the one with the downturned corner. As I leafed my way through I realized maybe she was just trying to determine what Magnolia’s affinity would be. Mom’s was also water but Dad’s was earth. Maybe she was just reading up on what signs to watch for. That thought made me feel a bit better.

Though it didn’t explain why she was being so secretive about it.

I continued flipping through the pages, searching for the dog-eared one. I found it toward the end of the book. Mom must’ve flipped the corner back up after I’d left the room because only a crease remained.

I flipped back a few pages to see which section I was in.

Spirit.

I blinked at the word and looked at it again.

Spirit? I didn’t know of anyone who held an affinity for spirit.

A spirit affinity was rare.

Maybe this had nothing to do with Magnolia after all.

I flipped back to the page Mom had marked. It was entitled,
The Power of Persuasion
. I scanned the section quickly. The title pretty much said it all. Persuasion, though a rare magical ability, could be a powerful one. A dangerous one if it were to be bestowed upon the wrong person.

Why on earth would Mom be looking into it?

Magnolia appeared in the doorway, startling me. She was dressed in her pink nightgown. Her bare feet peeked out from underneath. The soft pink nail polish I’d applied to her toes last week was chipped. She’d brushed out her braids, leaving her hair kinked and floating with static. She had a book tucked under her arm.

I carefully closed Mom’s book and edged away from the desk. I knew how lucky I was that it was only Magnolia in the doorway and not Mom. I quickly stuffed the book back onto its place on the shelf.

“What are you doing in your pajamas already?” I asked as I made my way over to her. I placed my hand on her shoulder and guided her out of the room, closing the door behind us.

She shrugged. “I’m kind of tired. Will you read to me?” she asked.

I doubted that she was tired. I knew her little tricks. If she got her pajamas on without being asked, it usually meant she wanted something. Tonight, she wanted someone to read to her. It always started with a request for just a few pages. And then a few more. And then before you knew what happened. An hour or more had passed by.

I didn’t have time for that tonight. I had other things on my mind.

“Not right now, Magpie,” I said. “You can read that book on your own.”

Her tiny, soft fingers curled around mine. “Please?” The word was soft. Simple. Yet the simple request was almost too powerful to say no to. For a moment, I could think of nothing else.

“Please?” she implored again. Her head tilted to the side, a precious smile tilted up the corners of her lips. She gave my hand a squeeze. The excuse I’d been formulating floated away to the edges of my mind, nearly out of my mental reach. I grasped at it…and at something else. Another thought that was floating around, circling the edges of my conscience.

Something.

Else.

It was right there, waiting to be rediscovered. I cocked my head to the side, trying to remember. My gaze floated to the closed door. My thoughts drifted to the room beyond, landing on the bookshelf. One book in particular. I pressed further and my thoughts latched onto the page entitled
The Power of Persuasion.

With a sharp inhale, I yanked my hand out of my sister’s seductive little grasp.

“Oh, crap,” I muttered.

 

~*~*~

 

I paced my bedroom floor. When Mom had come home, she’d gone straight to her room. That was something that she never did. She hadn’t reemerged and the door was still closed.

I’d read Magnolia her book. Actually, I’d read her three books. I had no idea if that was my idea, or hers. I’d just wanted to keep her busy so that Mom could have some time to herself. After what I’d just pieced together, I thought that she needed it.

After the books were read, I’d tucked her in. She’d begged to stay up past her bedtime. I was proud of myself for telling her no. It hadn’t been easy.

For just a few moments, as we’d stood there in front of Mom’s study door, I’d thought I had to be wrong. It had been a coincidence. There was no way,
no way
, my sweet little sister could yield that kind of power. But as she asked again, I felt calmness floating over me. My own thoughts had flitted away again. They had been replaced with the niggling feeling that I should do what Magnolia wanted me to do.

I remembered Mom pulling her hand away from Magnolia’s at the table. Was the power of persuasion intensified by touch? I thought it probably was. I had only skimmed
The Power of Persuasion
before I’d been interrupted. I hadn’t even had time to turn the page.

I dropped down on the edge of my bed, my knees suddenly feeling weak.

That little twerp had nearly persuaded me right out of a breadstick.

It was hard to say what else over the course of…A breath gushed out of me. A course of how long? I had no idea. I didn’t know how long this had been going on. How long had Mom been aware?

The spelling test.

The breadstick.

Always reading her just one more page…and then just one more. Before I knew it, what felt like seventy-five million minutes had passed.

Last week, I’d taken her to Miller’s pond to swim even though I really had wanted to meet Daphne and Finola at The Rush. Had I done that out of the goodness of my big sister heart? Or had I done it against my own free will? Granted, it was a small thing. And really, no harm could be done by taking my little sister to swim.

That wasn’t the point.

The point was the principle of the matter.

Persuasion
could
be a very dangerous thing.

Or an amazing thing. I couldn’t help but let my mind wander. The possibilities with such a gift were endless. It made my own magic seem so…insubstantial and inadequate.

I hadn’t wanted to bother my mom. Clearly, she was trying to deal with this. But I couldn’t just ignore it. Even if it meant admitting to the fact that I had been snooping. I launched myself to my feet and found myself knocking on Mom’s door moments later.

After a few seconds of silence, the door slowly swung open.

“I’m sorry. I’ll be right out to put Magnolia to bed. There were a few things I needed to put away first,” she said, her voice weary.

“She’s already in bed,” I said.

She looked confused for a moment but then glanced at her watch. “Oh, my goodness. I didn’t realize it was so late.”

“You’ve been really distracted lately,” I said. I felt bad pointing it out but it seemed like the perfect segue into what I really wanted to say. “Are you sure nothing is bothering you?”

She blew an errant strand of hair out of her face as she took a step back, into her room. Our bedrooms were considerably smaller than the suites but Mom’s room, especially, was just as tastefully decorated. She motioned for me to follow her inside. I settled onto the edge of her bed.

Levi had come back not that long ago. We also had guests in another suite, an elderly couple who were just passing through. Mom scanned the hallway quickly before closing the door behind us.

“You’re right. I have been distracted,” she wearily admitted. “I apologize for that.”

“It’s fine,” I assured her. Already my mind was spinning, trying to determine how I could work this conversation to my favor. Finally I said, “It’s just that I’ve wanted to talk to you for a few days now. About Magnolia.”

Her eyebrows shot up. Her tone was hesitant. “What about her?”

I dropped my head, trying to clear my expression of any guilt that may be lingering. I’d just realized that perhaps I could broach the subject without readily admitting I’d been snooping in Mom’s study.

“It’s just that I’ve noticed…” I hesitated, not quite sure how to word it. “It’s just that lately I’ve noticed that…she gets her way a lot?” It came out sounding like a question. Possibly because it was.

Mom sighed as she walked over to me and gently lowered herself onto the bed beside me. “Would you like to elaborate?”

I had hoped that she’d just volunteer the information. It didn’t seem as though that was going to happen. I was going to have to dive right in.

“I’ve been picking up on a lot of little things. The other night when she wanted my breadstick, I
wanted
to give it to her. Tonight, she wanted me to read to her. At first, I didn’t want to. I had other things to do. But there’s something about her that’s just so…
compelling
.”

“I hadn’t wanted to worry you with this. I suppose I should’ve realized that you’d figure it out. It probably is best that you know,” she said quietly. “Yes, I believe that your sister has the power of persuasion. It’s especially worrisome because she’s exhibited it for quite some time. Years, in fact.”

“Years?” I echoed.

“While it’s incredibly rare, it happens. Your father’s grandmother had the…gift. Or the curse. However you choose to look at it,” she said wryly.

“What do you mean,
curse
?”

“It can be dangerous. The person who holds the gift can manipulate those around them. What Magnolia can do already is nothing compared to what I assume she’ll be able to do once the gift fully manifests.” She turned to me and for the first time I noted her look of fear. “Samara,” Mom said in her no nonsense tone, “you cannot tell anyone of this. Not anyone. Do you understand?”

“Yes, of course,” I said.

“I mean, do you
really
understand?” She leveled her gaze on me, pausing a moment to let the seriousness of her words sink in. “If anyone knew about this, she could be in danger. There are those who would want to steal her gift. Those that would want to manipulate her into using her gift for their purpose. And those who would want to extinguish it and those people may not care at what cost.”

Extinguish her gift…at any cost…?

Mom couldn’t mean…I mentally faltered, not wanting the thought to fully form.

Mom had no problem finishing it for me. “Her life could be in danger, Samara. That’s how serious this is.”

Something ugly coiled up inside me. Fear entwined with dread and sorrow.  “I won’t tell a soul. I promise. Does anyone else know?”

“No,” she flinched the moment the word was out. Then she hung her head. Silence filled the room but I didn’t dare break it. Warring emotions battled across Mom’s features. There was more that she wanted to say. I wasn’t sure if she was going to say it. I knew it was best if I just waited her out. When she looked at me again, her expression was closed-off. “Your father knows. I mean, we weren’t positive, but given a few incidents involving Magnolia and the family history, we’ve been pretty sure for a while. We just had very, very opposing views when it came to determining what should be done about it.”

I waited again for her to say more. This time she remained silent. “What does that mean?” I finally asked.

She shook her head. “He did not have Magnolia’s best interest at heart. His grandmother made some very questionable choices. Your father seemed intent on following in her footsteps. I couldn’t have that.”

We rarely talked about my father. This conversation was the longest one we’d had since I couldn’t remember when.

Mom stood up again, the conversation about him was clearly over. “I should go kiss her goodnight.”

I stood as well.

“Mom,” I started. “Does she know about this?”

Her hand was on the doorknob. “That’s a hard question to answer. On an intellectual level, no, she has no idea. Not yet. But on a more primal level, I believe her subconscious recognizes it. And she uses it without really meaning to.”

“Once she gets older, more powerful…?”

Mom nodded. “We could really have a problem. Now that you’re aware of this, you should be able to resist her a bit easier.”

“Like you do?” I asked.

“Sometimes it’s hard to determine if what she wants is just the standard want of a child. Or if what she wants has some magical potency behind it. I don’t want to deny her too much. But at the same time, I’d rather err on the side of caution. I can resist her now. I’m not sure how much longer that’s going to be the case. Already, I’ve noticed that when she wants something, the desire to please her has become stronger. It’s easier to resist if you can avoid her touch and avoid looking into her eyes. But I’m afraid that there’s going to come a time very soon when there will be no resisting,” she sadly admitted.

BOOK: Malice
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