More than Magic Book 3: Soul Choice
Autore
Elizabeth Kirke
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I wish my vacations were boring.
I just wanted to visit my vampire boyfriend and our magical friends. I wasnât expecting danger around every corner. Kidnappers out for revenge. Memory potions. A deadly experiment. And a ghost from my past. Iâm on my own this time. I donât even have my familiar. Now, everyoneâs lives depend on me. But I donât know who to trust. This time, Iâm not sure weâll all make it out alive. The clock is ticking. If time runs out, my friends lose everything. And I lose them. Forever.
Threatened by a Vampire
Jen
What had I gotten myself into? I wasnât ready for this. My entire body ached, and I was so tired I was shaking. I leaned against the wall, panting for breath, staring hopelessly at the dark, boiling cauldron of water in front of me. I couldnât go back the way I came, and the only way out lay hidden beneath the water. There were five doors but choosing the wrong one could mean the end. Casting had already taken its toll on me. How many more spells did I have the energy for?
You can do this, Jen, I thought. You can do this.
There was no choice. I knelt down, took a deep breath, and aimed my wand at the cauldron. It was too hot to touch and I already wasted a spell trying to cool it. My only hope was to empty it.
âGul.â
The water slowly began to churn and climb up the sides of the cauldron. A few drops splashed over, then it all sloshed back into place and resumed its rolling boil. I growled in frustration and wiped my hair back from my face; it was damp and sticky from the rising steam.
âGul!â This time I clutched my wand with both hands, afraid to move before the spell was complete. It was probably the longest I ever maintained a spell. At last, the bottom of the cauldron was visible: 3
With another deep breath, I pushed myself up. I swayed on my feet and staggered to the door with the three carved in it. Wand ready, I pushed it open and found myself in a long hallway.
I started down, resisting the urge to stop and rest, knowing Iâd probably never stand up again if I did. Instead, I cautiously followed the hallway to where it came to a T. Each end held a door and, this time, I couldnât see anything that indicated which one. Hoping luck was on my side, I picked the one on the left and forced myself to jog toward it.
The door was locked.
No, I snarled silently. I wasnât going to have enough energy to unlock it and face whatever was beyond. Somewhere nearby, a door slammed shut.
I whirled and raised my wand. I was exposed, vulnerable. Did I have the energy for a sprint to the other door, did I unlock this one and hope I wasnât followed, or would I have to stand and fight?
My choice was made for me. A wizard appeared in the hallway. I held my breath, praying heâd turn right. No such luck. He swung his head left and his eyes widened when he saw me. His arm shot up, brandishing his wand.
âAhn!â
I frantically raised my wand and tried to block it. âDyn!â I wasnât expecting it to work. I only recently learned the word for earth spells and could count the number of times I actually used it on one hand. Using earth magic as a shield was complex, far beyond my skills. Maybe my lack of confidence was why it failed. Or my fatigue. Either way, it was over.
No sooner had I realized that my shield hadnât worked, when the blast of air from the wizardâs spell hit me and threw me off of my feet. By some miracle, I held onto my wand, but it didnât matter. I was weak and I knew I had lost. His feet echoed in my ears as he walked toward me.
âMar!â A wall of fire flared up around me, blistering heat closing in.
My head was spinning. Fire was my strongest magic and I couldnât even think of a way to counter his attack.
With all of the energy I could muster, I pulled the flag from my pocket and held it up to him. The fire died down as he took it from my hand. I dropped my cheek down on the cool floor with a sigh as the sound of his footsteps faded.
They were quickly replaced by another set. âMaddox? You alive?â
âYeah,â I groaned.
A pair of cool hands took mine and pulled me to my feet. The air elemental smiled at me, several different shades of sky-blue swirling merrily in his eyes. âFirst scrimmage, right? You did great,â he said, holding me steady.
He offered me a little cube of a potion and I forced up my hand to take it. The taste of mint exploded in my mouth, followed by a rush of energy. I weakly returned his smile. âThanks.â
I followed him out of the maze and into the entry room. There were a lot more witches and wizards than I had expected, all sitting around recovering. An irritated looking witch was darting around, inspecting injuries.
The room was filled with familiars too; cats, jackals, ravens, and rabbits were tucked into every nook and cranny. I could sense my familiar nearby. I looked over, where I knew he was, and saw several black cats sitting together. Even though they were practically identical, I could pick out Rak instantly. He met my gaze, stretched, and trotted over toward me.
âI told you youâd do well,â he said smugly. He gathered himself and then jumped into the air toward me. He vanished in a small puff of black smoke and reappeared just as he landed on my shoulder. I reached up and scratched him behind the ear.
âWhat place did I get?â I asked the air elemental.
âFifth.â He slapped me on the back and I nearly stumbled. Rakâs claws dug, just a bit, into my shoulder. âGreat job.â With that, he headed back out into the fray.
I sank down into an empty bench and waited for a second dose of energy potion. Rak slid off of my shoulder and into my lap, purring. Neither of us spoke, we didnât have to. I could sense his satisfaction at my performance. He was proud of me.
As I sat, I looked around at the other witches and wizards. Who knew how long they had been using magic? I should have started learning in my mid-teens, but I hadnât even known magic existed until last summer, when I was just barely been twenty-one.
Everyone else in the room had at least five or six years of experience more than I did. And that was assuming they were my age. We magics were immortal. Just because they all looked like they were in their twenties, didnât mean any of them actually were.
After my summer crash-course in magic, I hardly used it at all during the fall. A few months ago, when I had really needed it, I wasnât good enough. My cousin â not to mention my boyfriend and our closest friends â were nearly killed. After spending several sleepless nights, replaying the events and wondering what could have gone differently if I had just known more spells, I decided I needed to find some sort of class.
Most witches and wizards, however, learned from their parents, which made spell-casting classes few and far between. I was lucky enough to live near one of the few cities in the entire country that offered them from time to time. Even then, it wasnât exactly what I was looking for. For one thing, it was once a week for only two hours. It took me that long just to get to Washington! I couldnât complain though. Since it was one of the few classes being offered, people were commuting for more than double that, one way. Some people were even spending the weekend in the city, just to take the courses.
The first class was an intro, no spells at all. It was immediately obvious I was the only one with no real training. Two students â one from Pennsylvania and one all the way from Kentucky â were adopted and their parents were a different type of magical being. Other than them, the rest of the class seemed to fall into three categories: people who worked around non-magics and wanted to get in some extra spell-casting time; witches and wizards looking for jobs and taking the class for their resume and extra practice; and a handful of D.C. locals who just wanted to hang out with other magics and do stuff.
The next four classes were spent practicing the four basic spells and exploring what could be done with them. The fire magic class, which was my strongest spell, left me feeling pretty confident, but the earth class was incredibly discouraging. I didnât even know the word for an earth spell before walking into the classroom. Rak reminded me that improvement was the reason I was there in the first place, which made me feel better.
Last week we discussed spells for self-defense and offense. The instructors promised some sort of a scrimmage in Class Six. I hadnât known what to expect until I arrived and they clipped a flag onto my pocket. With no more warning than that, I found myself running through a maze, using spells I hardly knew to defend myself, while trying to make it to the exit. It hadnât sounded that difficult at first, but once I was in the thick of it, I knew I was in over my head.
Still⌠fifth. The thought made me smile. Only four people lasted longer than I did. Maybe I wasnât so bad after all.
I bit back a yawn, hoping Iâd have enough energy for the second half of my evening. My smile widened. After this, I was going with a group to the Smithsonian National Museum of American History for an after-hours tour all about the unsung contributions of magics.
Being a history major, it sounded like the greatest class I could think of. Ever since finding out I was a witch, there had been something missing in my non-magic history classes. I found my mind frequently drifting from the lessons as I wondered if any of the people we were studying were magics or what magics in the time period had been doing. Were they involved at all? Did our history tell a different story?
The fact that the stone elemental leading the course was over four hundred years old was just icing on the cake for me. The oldest magic I had really gotten a chance to talk to was my friend Dani, and he was only in his early eighties. The idea of someone being only eighty made me laugh. Our immortality was one of the many things I was still getting used to.
I was handed another energy potion, this one a liquid. Enjoying the odd sensation it caused, I sipped it slowly. It was like jumping into a hot shower after being outside in the cold. But, instead of warmth flooding my body, it was energy.
After giving the potion a few minutes to kick in, I got up and headed for the locker room to get my purse and change clothes. On the way, I passed a work-out room with a couple of magics using the machines. There was a girl, who couldnât have been much bigger than me, lifting an insanely large stack of weights. Probably a vampire. She must have worked for MES; the facilities werenât open to the public, with the exception of people taking classes like I was.
The classes were being given in the Washington D.C. MES office. It was a bit of a hike for me, but there were no classes in Baltimore anytime soon and I didnât want to wait. The D.C. location had its perks, like the upcoming museum trip. It was also just neat to be inside a MES facility and to get a glimpse at how everything operated. My friends all worked for MES, although they were in a different location, and I wondered how similar the facilities were. Of course, it was nearly impossible to be a magic and not work for MES, or at least be affiliated with it.
The Magical Enforcement and Secrecy Agency was sort of like every non-magic government agency rolled into one, and then some. It had originally been established to enforce our most important law: keeping our existence a secret from non-magics. As time went on, MES took on an increasingly larger role. Now, nearly every job in the country fell under the MES umbrella somehow. If a magic didnât work directly for MES, someone in their company probably did.
After I was changed, Rak and I left the locker room to meet the bus for the museum tour. I was pleased when at least a dozen people joined us. Other than when I was with my friends, these classes were my only opportunity to spend time around other magics.
We boarded the bus and started across the city. I looked out the window, half paying attention to the scenery. Growing up in Maryland, I visited D.C. all the time for school. Now, on the rare occasion when I found myself in the city, I always thought that I should do it more often. Before my classes, it had been almost a year since the last time I visited. Some friends and I went last spring for the annual Cherry Blossom Festival.
âSakura⌠whatâs the wordâŚâ I muttered, trying to think of the Japanese word for festival. I started taking Japanese this semester. My boyfriend, and some of his friends, all spoke it fluently and often used it almost like a code when non-magics were around. âOh, matsuri!â I smiled to myself, pleased I had remembered.
My sensei had been talking about it a lot recently and always took her spring classes to visit. Even though I only spoke very basic, limited Japanese, I was looking forward to going to the festival with a fresh perspective on the culture and some understanding of the language.
The thought made me laugh. I couldnât believe how much my life changed over the past few months. A year ago I would never have expected taking Japanese classes to be anywhere on my to-do list. Of course, a year ago I hadnât known anything about magic either. In fact, right around this time last year, I was filling out an application to spend my summer studying on a cruise ship.
The idea of a sixty-day cruise to several new countries, with college credits as an added bonus, seemed like a wonderful dream. How could I ever have imagined that Iâd learn magic along the way? It was there, on the ship, that I met other magics who realized I was a witch with no knowledge of our world. I had become close friends with all five of them. Even though I had only seen them once since the cruise, I spoke to at least one of them every day. Of course, it helped that I was dating one too.
The bus pulled up around the back of the museum. We gathered on some low, stone steps around a fountain while our instructor gave a brief introduction about himself and an outline of our evening in the museum.
I pulled out my phone and checked to make sure I hadnât missed a call from my boyfriend. He usually called after work and, according to his schedule, had been off for half an hour already. Nothing. I shot him a quick text to let him know the tour was about to start and that Iâd let him know when it was over.
âTexting Thomas?â Rak guessed.
I nodded as I typed. âI hope heâs not still at work.â
Even though I wasnât looking at Rak, I could sense his agreement. Thomas was the Resident Magic Coordinator for the Upstate New York branch of MES. According to him, he spent most of his time in the office making phone calls and doing paperwork. But, like many MES employees, he doubled as a Special Agent. If there was any trouble, Thomas was one of the people who went to take care of it.
A woman came out of the museum and exchanged a few quiet words with our guide. The non-magics were all cleared out of the museum and it was time for us to enter. We went through a large set of glass doors and into the lower level of the museum.
It was surreal to be wandering around inside of a public building with Rak trotting by my side. I could sense how much he was enjoying the experience. He would never complain about actually being a cat, but I knew he sometimes wished he had more freedom to explore. Even though we had only been bonded for seven months, I could hardly remember what it was like to not have his feelings and emotions in the back of my mind. In spite of that, I was glad we hadnât been bonded during my cruise. He could never have joined me on the ship and two months away from him would have been hard.
The museum tour was just as amazing as I expected. Our guide had incredible first-hand accounts of life in America over the centuries. Even though magics did their best to not interfere with outcomes of non-magic events, it seemed we still played an important part in history. There were even a few famous historical figures that had been magics, much to my surprise. We were encouraged to keep a low profile and out of the public eye.
Time flew by and all too soon we were in the main lobby, wrapping up. The lobby had been renovated since the last time I was here. I had fond memories of watching a giant pendulum knocking down pegs, while waiting for a huge panel in the wall to slide open to reveal the Star-Spangled Banner. The pendulum was gone and, where I remembered the cloth flag, was a giant fake metal one. I spotted a doorway that looked like it led to an exhibit. I was fairly sure that the renovation involved the flag. I was on my own to get home and it didnât look like they were kicking us out yet, so I went over to poke my head in.
I found myself in a dim, almost narrow hallway and walked in, Rak trotting behind me.
âWhoa,â I gasped, as I caught sight of the flag.
It was in a huge glass case, taking up the entire left side of the hall. Nose to the glass, I walked slowly along the display. Rak jumped up onto my shoulder for a better view. When we reached the far end, I looked at the wall to my right, which was full of artifacts and information.
As I was trying to decide if I wanted to double back and read the wall, a man came in. I recognized him from the tour. He looked my age, but of course, could have been much, much older.
âEnjoying the tour?â he said.
His voice was soft, almost menacing. We were in one of those places where the atmosphere just made you want to speak quietly. I tried to tell myself that he just had a rough voice and was whispering because of the exhibit, but that didnât explain why he was glaring.
âYeah, itâs great.â I edged back and sensed Rakâs concern. Something wasnât right.
He took a step closer to me. âI hope you paid close attention to the contributions that non-humans have made to history.â
The wording caught me off guard. I was used to differentiating between magics and non-magics, but hadnât heard non-humans. For a moment I wasnât sure if he was referring to familiars or other magics who werenât human, like werewolves or elementals. Not sure how to respond, I nodded.
âGood,â he sneered. âKeep it in mind.â
Swallowing hard, I nodded again. âI will.â
âAnd watch yourself. If I see you againâŚâ He paused and glanced toward the door, leaving the threat unsaid. âMES may think youâre innocent, but I know better. I know what youâve done.â He closed the distance between us in an instant. I hardly had the time to think vampire before he was a fraction of an inch from my face. âI know what youâve done,â he repeated, âCassandra.â The name was a hiss; a soul-chilling, heart-stopping hiss.
It wasnât the first time a vampire had hissed at me. I thought I was fairly good at resisting the effects, but it caught me off guard. I couldnât move, felt like I couldnât breathe. Then, he was gone.
The moment I recovered, I sucked in a deep breath and pulled out my wand. The vampire was nowhere to be seen. Rakâs alarm mirrored mine. He darted around the corner, tail straight up and every hair standing on end.
âI donât see him,â he said softly.
Warily, I tip-toed out of the exhibit. Most of the others had left the lobby. I cast my night vision spell, just in case, before hurrying out of the museum after them. The closest entrance to the Metro was across a wide, open field. There were enough other magics heading that way, and more than enough non-magics, that I felt safe. The vampire had waited until I was alone to make his strange threat. I doubted heâd do anything else with so many people around.
Rak reluctantly climbed into my large bag, out of sight of the non-magics. Instead of meandering, while looking at the Washington Monument, I set off across the National Mall at a brisk pace. I trotted down the escalator and into the station. Without slowing, I reached into my bag for my Metro card. Rak passed my wallet to me.
âThanks,â I whispered.
The three minutes before my train arrived felt like some of the longest of my life. I waited, heart still pounding, on the platform. If the vampire was still following me, there was no sign of him. I practically leapt onto the train and sat down at the back of a car, where I could easily see all the doors. I swallowed nervously and sensed Rakâs tension.
It was going to be a long ride home.
