“Jack, can I have a pinch of your magic, please?” I hold out a hand to him. “I think the box is spelled. I don’t feel any tech in either one, but I’m sure there’s something…”
I wish I could explain it better. If I’d received proper magical training as a kid, I’d likely know about all sorts of spells that my coven can now use against me. But my tech magic is pretty much useless for detecting enchantments, so I need to borrow Jack’s. Witches usually have an affinity for one or two types of magic, but most can cobble together a basic spell of any sort if they put their effort in. My magic has never lent itself to anything other than influencing technology and computer programming. But I figured out how to channel the sea dragons’ innate power to help me out.
Jack comes to stand beside me and offers me his hand. The now familiar sensation of sinking deep into my magic comes faster each time I do this, so I guess practice does make better, if not perfect. Touching his cool blue magic is easy, too, because he’s opened himself up to me. I take a small pinch of it between my fingers, cup my hands around it, and stare down at the boxes.
Now what?
I don’t know any spells that would reveal magical trackers or residue, so I try to spread the glow of magic over the box, whispering, “Show me what my coven did to the box.”
It’s imperfect, and I feel the drain on my own power as I work with Jack’s magic. I can’t take too much from him, because we need him to fly us back to Amber Bay. The spell’s direction is unfocused, so it’s using up more energy than a properly worded one would.
Still, the light permeates the box, and at the very bottom, in a corner, a faint glow surrounds an old shampoo bottle. It’s a mundane object I wouldn’t notice at all, which is likely why Alice—or whoever put the spell there—picked it in the first place.
“Got it.” I scan the second box, finding nothing, then release the magic and Jack’s hand. I gingerly pick up the shampoo bottle.
It looks completely ordinary. No runes or sigils to mark it, and it smells of shampoo, nothing else. Wow, if I wasn’t so angry and scared, I’d be impressed with how stealthy the spell is.
“That’s it?” Jack asks, leaning closer.
“Yep.” I put the bottle on top of my stuff and lift the box to take it to the plane. “That’s what we have to chuck out of the plane if we don’t want them to track us again.”
Jack takes the box from me and loads it in the cargo space. “We should check around the hangar for any more spells.”
We prepare the plane for takeoff, then walk around the hangar hand in hand, scanning for any signs of tampering. There’s nothing—or rather, I detect nothing. Maybe there are spells that my crude magical sweep just doesn’t pick up.
“They must have gotten chased off before they could do any damage,” Jack says as we come full circle. “That’s a relief.”
I shake my head from side to side. “I’m not happy with this. It’s too easy. But I have no idea what to do next.”
I turn to peer over my shoulder, half expecting Cameron to jump out at me. All I see is more similar structures and planes parked on the tarmac. A couple of people hurry about, but they pay us no mind, so I have to assume they’re regular humans going about their jobs, not dangerous witches. Besides, I don’t recognize any of the faces.
“Damn it,” I mutter. “Let’s go. There’s nothing more we can do here.”
Jack pulls me in for a side hug and presses a kiss on top of my hat. “Don’t worry. We’ll shake them off, and we’ll go back to our normal lives.”
With every fiber of my being, I want to believe him. But my life in the village will never be normal. I also don’t believe my family will give up so easily. And I hope I won’t be the trigger to starting a new war.
Twelve
Aiden
Jack radios in their arrival,asking Ty and me to meet them at the landing strip. When I press him for details, he tells me we need to have a private conversation, which means something happened in Anchorage. It’s probably more bad news, and for a moment, I think about flat-out refusing to go. I’ve dealt with so much shit these past weeks—most of it my own doing—that I’mtired. In the upcoming vote, I could lose my place in the clan and this house, something I haven’t mentioned to Skye because she’s carrying enough guilt as it is. All I want to do is haul my ass back to my bedroom and sleep for three days straight.
Instead, I grab Ty from the kitchen where he’s kneading dough of some sort, and drag him out into the cold evening. We don’t have many cars here in Amber Bay since the village is so small, we hardly need them, and shipping in gas is a pain. The one truck that the Lodge owns for deliveries is already at the landing strip, ready for Jack and Skye, so Ty and I trek through the village and to the other side, past the bear fence that surrounds our entire community.
It takes us almost half an hour to get there, but we don’t speak. I’m not sure where Ty’s thoughts are, but I’m busy worrying that Skye won’t like my gift. It might be a bit much for the first one, but I figured: I screwed up big, so I better make the gesture count.
“There they are!” Skye’s clear voice rings out in the dusk. “Hi!”
She hurries over to Ty, and he wraps himself around her. His expression is so damn vulnerable as he hugs her close, I have to look away. It’s like it was physically painful for them to be apart. He loves her, I know that, but seeing it up close is hard. She clings to him tightly, her fists grasping the fabric of his jacket. It’s not just that I’m jealous—I don’t know if I’m capable of giving Skye that sort of devotion. After everything we’ve been through, I have no idea if I can open myself up like that.
I focus on Jack instead as he unloads the mail and Skye’s boxes. “What’s wrong?”
“Security at the airfield saw two people lurking around our hangar,” he replies. “A man and a woman. The guy was redheaded, so Skye is pretty sure it’s her ex, Cameron.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
