Page 6 of Unbound

“I’m sure psychologically she’s freaking the fuck out, but technically, she’s probably safer in prison than anywhere else right now.” I continue picking at my food, trying to force myself to eat something to keep my strength up. Then Mabel suddenly stands, turning her head.

“Someone’s pulling into the driveway,” she says. “And I don’t recognize the sound of that car.”

She crosses the kitchen and taps the screen of an iPad, pulling up the security footage. A small black car parks at the end of the driveway. Then the screen gets glitchy. We all look at each other, immediately going on the defensive seconds before the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it,” Antonio says, but we all go together.

“I think I sensed her energy before,” Mabel says as Antonio opens the door. It’s Marie, and she steps right into the house, stopping on the rug in the foyer. She looks around, a sympathetic smile on her face.

“It seems my intuition isn’t as quick as it used to be.”

Chapter

Three

Ilook at Marie and become overwhelmingly filled with shame. She’s the one who told me about my family’s legacy, the one who knew my family’s mission was to rid the world of as many demons as possible.

I suck in a shaky breath. “I didn’t want this to happen,” I say, and my voice breaks.

“I know, honey,” Marie says, stepping inside and wrapping me in her embrace. Instead of anger, there’s an air of understanding around her. It’s one of the most genuine things I’ve felt in a while. Her energy instantly calms me, and I don’t know if it’s because she’s the first witch I’ve been around or because I’m just so desperate to feel better right now, but I lean into her and silently sob against her shoulder.

“Let it out,” she says.

“Sorry,” Leo starts, not sounding apologetic at all. “Who is this?”

I straighten up and inhale quickly, wiping at my face. It’s not like me to be so emotional.

“I’m Marie,” she introduces herself before I get a chance.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Leo states.

Other than myself, Mabel is the only one in this room who can sense that Marie is a witch. My mind is so scrambled right now, I can’t remember if I even told anybody about her or not.

“She’s a witch,” I say, my voice still weak. “She’s the one who helped me learn about my family.”

“And what is she doing here?” Leo asks, skepticism obvious on his face.

“I was hoping I would get here before the demon was unleashed,” Marie starts, “but it seems my tarot is punishing me for not sending them out during the last full moon.” She chuckles at her own little joke, though I have no idea if she’s being serious or not.

My gift of prophecy was strictly discouraged by Vivian and Marco, and I agree with Xavier’s original theory that my gut feelings and intuition are incredibly strong because I probably have some sort of foresight into the future. But the Order didn’t want to risk finding out what was actually going on, so they suppressed it along with the rest of my powers. They wouldn’t have been able to control visions and I could have seen the truth.

“Any chance you know how to put it back?” Mabel asks, tipping her head to the side in a way that reminds me of a golden retriever who just heard the word walk.

“I’m familiar with the ritual,” Marie says, then shakes her head. “Though I’m unable to perform it on my own.”

“Well, what do you need?” Antonio asks.

“Time,” Marie says with another chuckle. “And perhaps a drink.”

“Is there even any alcohol in this house?” Leo asks. To be fair, it’s a legitimate question.

“I’ll get you something,” Mabel says, motioning for us to follow her into the parlor. She gets a bottle of whiskey from the built-in bar and sets it on the coffee table. Then she zooms over to a china cabinet and pulls out one of her porcelain tea sets for her dolls.

She pours what I’m guessing is a very expensive bottle of whiskey into the teapot and then serves us as if it were tea, even offering around the empty sugar bowl. My brothers are more or less used to Mabel’s oddities, and Marie just rolls with it.

“You must’ve had a plan,” Antonio says, finishing the little bit of whiskey in the flower-printed porcelain cup. “You wouldn’t have come all this way for Wren if you didn’t have a plan.”

“That is true,” Marie agrees, taking a small sip of her whiskey with her pinky raised like she’s drinking steaming tea. “My plan was to keep the demon contained.”