Gray Magic Page 3

  This room was too dark and gloomy for me. The only pop of color was a deep red spread throughout in the form of pillows, the rug, and the art on the walls. However, with a fire lit, the room appeared inviting.

  “I know I’ve told you multiple times not to apologize for insignificant things. It’s a sign of weakness,” Octavia insisted in an annoyed way.

  Great. I’d just walked in the door, and she was already irritated beyond belief with me. My nails dug into the palms of my hands inside my coat pockets. How was I going to get her to talk with me about her ex-lover now?

  I fought the urge to apologize yet again. I hadn’t known I had the habit until she’d pointed it out. Octavia was quick to point out other’s flaws. I wasn’t sure if it was because she’d been around people for so many years that they were easy to notice, or if it was because the existence of them annoyed her.

  “I know.” I paused near the couch she sat on.

  “Benji is upstairs in his room,” Octavia said without looking up from the book she held.

  I took in her deep red cocktail dress and strappy black heels. She always seemed dressed to impress. Part of me wished I had worn something more flattering than jeans and a sweater. At least, I’d worn my brown ankle boots instead of sneakers. That had to count for something.

  My gaze slid to the book she held. Dracula. A smirk twisted my lips. A vampire reading a book about another vampire. There had to be a joke in there somewhere.

  “What’s so funny?” Octavia asked. Her question surprised me, as did the heated gleam that entered her dark eyes when she glanced at me.

  I adjusted my glasses, my smirk having melted away. “Nothing.”

  “You were snickering at the fact I’m reading.” She arched a perfectly sculpted brow, making herself appear ten times more intimidating than she had seconds ago. “Or is it the simple fact I’m reading Dracula?”

  I didn’t answer. What could I say?

  “Humans read about other humans all the time. I don’t see the humor in my situation.”

  My cheeks warmed.

  Her gaze narrowed. “Is there a reason you’re still standing here? I thought you came by to visit Benji?”

  “I did.” I swallowed hard. Was this a good time to ask about the lover she’d mentioned before? It didn’t seem like it. Still, I needed to know if she knew anything that could help me. “But, I was wondering if I could talk to you about something first?”

  She closed the gray leather-bound edition of Dracula without taking her eyes off me and set it on the table in front of her. “Such as?”

  “Um, you mentioned once you dated an anchor. I was wondering if maybe you picked up any tips or tricks I could use to control my ability from him.” The words rushed past my lips before I could give them much thought. Octavia made me nervous.

  All the Montevallos did if I was honest, but each for different reasons.

  “Tips and tricks?” She crossed her long, slender legs while keeping her eyes glued to me. Her wrist flicked forward, motioning for me to take a seat on the couch opposite her. “For what specifically?”

  I stepped to the couch and sat. The stiff leather creaked against my weight, and the coldness of it seeped through my jeans.

  “Is there a way to make spirits stop knocking, as you called it once before? Like, a way for them to be unable to affect me so physically?” I asked.

  Octavia’s lips twisted into a wicked grin. The sight of it had unease prickling across my skin. I swallowed hard, because her grin was a reminder I was sitting across from a predator.

  “You mean a way to create a barrier between the other side and yourself, one you could set in place at will?”

  I sat up straighter. “Yes, exactly!”

  Octavia leaned forward, resting her elbow on her knees. Her dark eyes glittered with an emotion I couldn’t name—excitement, mischief, madness?

  “There is a way,” she said in a hushed tone that sent chills creeping along my spine. “However, I don’t think you’ll like it.”

  My heart thundered inside my chest while I waited for her to continue. Her pupils dilated for a split second, and I knew it was because she could hear it.

  I licked my lips, trying hard to ignore the hungry look in her eyes. “What is it?”

  “You could put up a veil.”

  She leaned back against the leather of the couch, continuing to stare at me. Something in her expression had me thinking she was elated for a reason I couldn’t pinpoint.

  My brows pinched together. Was I missing something?

  “But, isn’t a veil just another word for the other side?” I asked.

  Octavia licked her red painted lips and smiled, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth. “To those ignorant to what the anchor power truly is and how it works, yes.”

  I blinked. Was she calling me stupid? To my face?

  “They are two entirely different things, Ridley,” she continued. “A veil is something an anchor sets in place so there can be no more contact between themselves and the other side. A wall of sorts.”

  That sounded exactly like what I was looking for. I was so tired of spirits being able to contact me whenever the heck they wanted. Putting up a veil seemed like it would allow me to use my gift when and how I wanted. It sounded as though I wouldn’t be at the mercy of it as much.

  “You seem relieved,” Octavia said. “You shouldn’t be. Once a veil is set in place, it can’t be undone. In other words, you would no longer have your anchor abilities. They would be gone. Permanently.”

  Permanently? The word jarred me.

  “You’re saying putting up a veil would erase my gift?” I knew what she was saying; I just couldn’t wrap my head around it.

  “Yes.”

  I blinked. No more pendants or talismans. No more disappointment in myself when the other side became unstable. No more headaches when a spirit reached out.

  I’d be normal. Human.

  Was that something I wanted though?

  “If that is something you truly want,” Octavia said, “then you must find a medium.”

  Her expression shifted into something that led me to believe the meaning of the word medium I was thinking of wasn’t the same she was.

  “Medium as in a psychic, right?” I asked.

  “Not a psychic, no. In this case, a medium is a human exposed to the supernatural world in some way and then had their memory of it erased.”

  From her eyes, it was clear she had someone in mind. I believed I knew who—Benji’s human friend, Alec.

  He’d dated Mina before she and Eli got together. He knew about the supernatural world. More than most thought he should. The youngest Montevallo sister, Ivette, had used her power of compulsion to wipe his memory of everything supernatural he’d ever witnessed last summer.

  Alec was who Octavia was thinking of because he fit her description perfectly.

  “No. This isn’t something you want,” Ivette said as she glided into the living room. My head snapped in her direction. In one hand, she carried a muffin and, in the other, a cookie. Like Octavia, she was dressed to perfection. Her long, dark hair had been secured in a ponytail that swayed when she walked. “You were born with this gift for a reason, Ridley. Don’t make a rash decision and sever yourself from it for good.”

  “I’m not. I’m just...weighing my options,” I said. It was the truth, but it didn’t mean I was leaning toward putting up a veil. I could never hurt someone for my own gain. Especially not a human. Was that what would have to happen? My gaze drifted back to Octavia. “What has to be done to the medium?”

  If she said he had to be sacrificed, I was done, but if all I needed was a single drop of his blood to do a spell, I’d be okay with it.

  “You’ll need his blood.” Octavia’s eyes flashed when she spoke. This was the bomb she’d been waiting to drop, but it was anticlimactic for me because I’d already figured as much.

  “How much?” I asked.

  Please say a tiny drop. Please s
ay a tiny drop.

  “You can’t be serious,” Ivette blurted out. My eyes shifted to her. She stood at the end of the couch I sat on, glaring at me.

  I tucked a few wild curls behind my ear and directed my attention back to Octavia. Ivette had no idea what it was like being an anchor, which meant, she had no place to judge.

  “That part isn’t exactly clear,” Octavia said. “I do know the spell has to be performed during a full moon.”

  Of course, wasn’t everything done during a full moon? I needed more information than that, and frankly, it didn’t seem as though she had any to give.

  “This isn’t a good idea,” Ivette said, her tone serious. She moved to sit beside me. The cushion barely registered her tiny frame. “Getting rid of the ability you were born with is like getting rid of a piece of you. Think this through, Ridley. I would hate for you to regret your decision later.” Her cold hand came to rest on top of mine, and she gave it a gentle squeeze before releasing me.

  “There is another way,” Octavia said. “If it interests you to hear it.”

  “What other way?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  The look in her eyes made me uneasy. It had me thinking whatever other route she was talking about wouldn’t be any better than the first.

  “Learn gray magic.”

  My brows pinched together. I’d known about magic my whole life but had never heard of gray magic.

  “What’s that?”

  Octavia grinned. “You’re a witch, and yet you know nothing of gray magic?”

  I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable with the way she seemed to mock me.

  “Don’t let her get under your skin,” Ivette insisted. She passed me the cookie she held. “Here, try this. Give me your honest opinion. It’s cranberry raisin.”

  I took the cookie and broke off a small piece in a daze. My mind was still stuck on trying to figure out what the heck gray magic was as I popped it in my mouth. Sweetness burst across my tongue. The tartness of cranberries quickly overshadowed it.

  “How is it?” Ivette asked, her doe-like eyes searching for a compliment.

  “It’s, um, good.” I hoped my words were believable. Raisins had never been my thing, but I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

  Out of the two Montevallo sisters, she was the one I liked most.

  “She hates it,” Octavia insisted. She shot a pointed look at Ivette. “Your baking skills are lacking, which is exactly what I’ve been telling you all week.”

  Ivette deflated beside me. “I know. I need to think of something else to keep busy with. I’m going insane without something to do.”

  At that moment, I felt for her. Being a vampire meant you had all the time in the world because you could live forever, which most envied. What no one talked about was how you were supposed to fill that eternity.

  “Back to our conversation,” Octavia said. “Gray magic is magic that is neither good nor bad. It’s somewhere in the middle, exactly like you. You’re here in the physical plane, but you’re also on the other side. Gray magic would come easily to you. Through the use of it, over time you might be able to create a veil that could be taken down at will.”

  My pulse quickened at the thought.

  “Hey, I thought I heard you down here,” Benji said as he stepped into the living room. “What are you doin’?” His gaze drifted from me to Ivette and then Octavia. A sense of protectiveness shifted through his features.

  “Ridley is taste-testing for me,” Ivette said, saving me from having to explain why I was sitting with the two of them and what we’d been talking about.

  It wasn’t as though I didn’t plan to tell Benji what I’d learned; I just wasn’t sure right this moment was the time.

  “Oh.” Benji crammed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and flashed me a boyish smile. Was he embarrassed he’d seemed so protective of me seconds ago? “Anythin’ good?”

  “Um—”

  “You don’t have to lie. I know the recipe needs work,” Ivette said. She held out the muffin next. “Care to try the muffin? It’s blueberry lemon.”

  “Sure.”

  She watched me closely as I pulled off a piece from the top and popped it in my mouth. The flavor was too sweet for me. In fact, it was so sweet my lips almost puckered.

  “No good either, huh?” Ivette asked. “I knew I added too much lemon juice. Back to the drawing board.” She stood and made her way to the kitchen before I could say a word.

  “Give up, sister,” Octavia called after her. She picked up the book she’d been reading and opened to where she’d left off.

  Our conversation was over, no matter how desperately I wanted it to continue. I needed to know more about gray magic. How was I supposed to tap into it? Why hadn’t my aunt—or anyone—mentioned it before?

  “So, do you want to head up to my room?” Benji asked. “Or we can go somewhere else.”

  “I’m okay with hanging out in your room.”

  It wasn’t as though we would do anything. Heck, I couldn’t even remember how long it had been since we’d last kissed.

  Time, I reminded myself, he just needs time.

  As I stood to follow Benji upstairs, my gaze drifted to Octavia. She didn’t look up from her book like I hoped she would. I’d wanted to at least mouth the words thank you to her. After all, she had pointed me to a path I hadn’t known existed. Why hadn’t I known about it? Why hadn’t Aunt Rowena mentioned it? There had to be a good reason. She wouldn’t have kept me from a type of magic that would make managing my ability easier when she knew how much I struggled. Would she?

  My teeth sank into my bottom lip. I needed to talk to her. Soon.

  Chapter 3

  I situated myself on the edge of Benji’s bed. My eyes scanned his room like always. It was still strange he lived here now even months later. I guess what got me most was that the room didn’t suit him. It was too dark and gothic and nothing at all like the small room he’d had at his parents’ place. The normal, quaint, and cozy room.

  An open journal on his desk caught my eye.

  “What’s that?” I nodded to it and then tucked my dark curls behind my ear. Benji had never seemed like the journaling type before. Had that changed about him too?

  “My journal, I guess you could call it.” He scratched the back of his neck. It was clear my having spotted it made him nervous. “It was Julian’s idea.”

  Julian was the most compassionate of the Montevallo brothers. He was one of the middle children, Octavia being the other, but he often came off as the one in charge. There was something more grown up about him than the others. Almost as though he carried a sense of responsibility for them on his shoulders, one I didn’t quite understand.

  “What do you write about?” I asked. I moved to lie on his bed and propped my head up with the palm of my hand. The idea of him journaling was fascinating. “Why did he suggest it?”

  Benji stepped to his desk and sat in the chair. He closed the leather-bound journal and tucked it into a drawer out of sight. His actions had me feeling as though whatever he’d written on the pages were too private to share with me.

  Benji shrugged. “How I’m feelin’. What’s goin’ through my head. Julian thinks it’ll help work through my emotions. They’ve been haywire lately.”

  The ghost of a smile quirked at the corners of his lips. It was forced.

  “Haywire?”

  I knew things had been difficult for him these past few weeks, but I hadn’t known it went deeper than us and his aversion to being around others. He hadn’t mentioned anything about emotions. Had he?

  I thought back but couldn’t find anything. The only thing I’d witnessed him struggle with had been intimacy, but I understood. I was like a walking plate of nachos to a famished human.

  My teeth sank into my bottom lip. Crap. Had I been too consumed with my issues lately to notice his?

  “Just a little. Not with everythin’. Only some things,” he said.

  “
Like what?” My tone was soft, nonjudgmental. I sat up and fixed my eyes on him, wanting him to know he had my undivided attention, that I was here for him.

  A look passed across his face, one that signified he wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about whatever was bothering him with me. My heart dropped to my stomach. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be between us. It wasn’t how they’d ever been.

  “Earlier today, I went four-wheelin’ with some guys I went to school with. Julian suggested it. He said I should get out of the house more. Everythin’ was goin’ good...until one of them acted like a dumbass and did a trick he shouldn’t have. He ended up fallin’ off and scratched up his elbow. There was a lot of blood.” His eyes grew dark when he said the word. Vampire dark. It sent a shiver down my spine to see. He blinked, and when he did, the devil inside him seemed to tame. His body shook as his eyes focused on the dark wood floor of his room. “It took everythin’ in my power not to drink him dry right there.” Emotions crackled through his words, tugging at my heartstrings.

  I swallowed hard and slipped off his bed, eager to hold him or comfort him. When I reached him, I smoothed a hand along the top of his knee and crouched down in front of him so we were eye level. He didn’t move to put space between us like I thought he might. Instead, he remained sitting in the chair.

  “Don’t beat yourself up,” I said, my voice still soft. “Obviously, you didn’t go through with it. You were able to walk away.”

  His gaze lifted to meet mine. Torment swirled through the color of his eyes. It quickly shifted to anger. Not directed at me, but at the situation.

  “I almost didn’t, though. I almost wasn’t strong enough to walk away.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m weak, Ridley. Unstable. Dangerous.”

  Funny, those were words I’d used once or twice to describe myself when thinking of my gift.

  “No, you’re not. You’re strong. Stronger than you realize. You could have chosen not to walk away. You could have drained all of them dry if you wanted, but you didn’t because you’re strong.” The words pushed past my lips with a force and conviction I felt deep in my core.