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He lowers himself onto the edge of the bed. I quickly scoot as far away from him as possible, pressing myself tightly against the wall. Edward snickers.
“You see, Seer has always done foolish things, even as a child. It’s a wonder the gods chose to bestow the family’s gift of sight on him. He was so proud to be chosen that he’d blurt out the most ridiculous things and gussy them up as visions.”
“Seer saw in one of his visions that the next sage was the one who had the keys to the room of Knowledge, an ancient library of magic and witchcraft located in the center of Cornwall where all seasoned voodoo practitioners come to learn ancient secrets and rites. The key was passed down through generations of the first sons of the Abner family. But grandfather was partial to his second son. He flaunted customs and handed the key over to Jonathan before he died. So when Seer foolishly announced Jo as the next mage of Cornwall, father was enraged, of course. Jonathan had to go, but before that, father needed to know where he kept the key to the room of Knowledge.”
“That’s where Rosalinda came in. Father had heard about a soul searcher who would do anything to get a place on the council of voodoo leaders. She was just what he needed at the time. He promises Rosalinda a place at the table in exchange for finding the keys. Your mother did her job rather perfectly, I must say. Father gave her a huge sum to get as far away as she possibly could from Cornwall. He was rather generous. But your mother wouldn’t hear any of that. She threatened to reveal the secret behind Jo’s death. I killed him, by the way.” He smiles like he’s recounting a fond memory. “I slipped him a couple of arsenic-infested bagels as an act of ‘kindness’ in the underground cell where father had kept him. Uncle Jo loved his nephews, but he loved his bagels even more. He was my first kill–and the easiest. Of course.”
I almost flinch at Edward’s expectant smile and the pride in his eyes as he admitted to killing his uncle. If he saw the disgust in my eyes, he didn’t indicate that he noticed.
“Back to the point,” Edward is speaking enthusiastically, relishing the chance to tell someone of his many misdeeds. “Rosalinda thought it was wise to defy my father, but that was foolish right? She was captured and kept in one of the underground cells for a while. It was then that her ability to explore the soul of another intrigued me as I coveted it for myself. I wondered what it’d be like to have that much control over the souls of people. So, I stole the key to the house of Knowledge in search of knowledge. I found a book that had a detailed explanation of how to steal the magical powers of others. I had little to no knowledge of wizardry, so I made a lot of mistakes with your mother. She ended up going crazy, and Father didn’t see the need to kill her anymore.”
“So, I guess you can say that I saved your mother’s life.”
I gape at the man before me in disbelief, unable to get a sound past the huge lump in my throat. I can’t believe after all these years, I’m staring at the man who made my Ma into the unrecognizable woman that died in my arms, and I can’t seem to do or say anything that reveals my contempt for the man.
“I still want Rosalinda’s powers,” Edward says, searching my face like I have a spectacular message written on my forehead. “The same ones you have. I want it so badly that I’m going to take it.”
“Oh, no…,” he says, holding out his hands to me in an exaggerated gesture. “Don’t look at me like that. Don’t be scared, dear. Years have passed, and I’ve honed my skills. You won’t end up like your mother.”
Edward rises swiftly on his feet and glances down at his watch. “It’s been nice chatting, but there are things to do.” He heads to the door and only stops to look back when his hand is on the doorknob.
“Eat, Victoria. You’ll need your strength for when we begin the ritual tomorrow.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
Ifist my hands in my hair and run them down my face–anything to keep them from plowing into walls and destroying everything in my path. I can’t seem to think straight or even breathe properly. All I can do is pace the length of Mama’s waiting room.
“You need to stop pacing, Seer,” Pocus says quietly from behind me. “That won’t solve the problem.”
“It’s all I can fucking do, can’t you see?” I throw an agitated glance toward Mama’s consulting room. “Why’s she keeping us waiting?”
“Well, for one, it might be because we barged in here without a call,” Pocus responds. “But I guess it’s mostly because….”
The door to the consulting room opens, cutting off Pocus’s words. I look to see one of Mama’s assistants walking out of it. “Mama will see you both now,” she declares in a solemn voice before turning around and disappearing the way she came.
Mama was waiting for us by the door the moment Pocus and I walk into her consulting room. She presses a folded piece of paper into my hands, her eyes boring into mine.
“In there is the address to Alejandro King’s hideout. Find her, Seer,” she says urgently, blinking her eyes rapidly to push back the tears that have started to gather in their depths. “She’s in real trouble this time.”
I nod curtly, unable to get a word past the lump of fear that’s lodged in my throat.
“Thanks, Mama,” Pocus says to Mama on my behalf. “We’ll be on our way now.”
We’re almost at the door when Mama’s voice stops us in our tracks. “Be careful out there, boys,” she warns ominously. “Alejandro King is a real snake.”
* * *
Finding Alejandro King wasn’t as hard as I thought. Maybe that’s because Mama already did the grunt work. Alejandro King, to my surprise, turns out to be a tall, good-looking man in his early thirties, maybe even late twenties. I guess I’d expected some disgusting old man with excessively greying hair and decaying teeth – if that’s how evil wizards are supposed to look.
“I’m sorry I would not be able to offer you gentlemen anything more tangible than coffee or water,” Alejandro says, settling into the chair directly opposite Seer and me. His hideout is a simple minimalist style with only the basics in Mandeville, LA.
“You showed up so suddenly that I didn’t have time to prepare anything,” Alejandro says with what is supposed to be an apologetic smile, except he doesn’t look sorry. His soulless grey eyes slowly look from Pocus to me and back to Pocus. “So, are you both reporters?”
Well, that was the cover that Pocus came up with to get Alejandro to open his door to us. We look nothing like reporters, but surprisingly it had worked. Maybe Alejandro is craving notoriety.
“Yes, we are,” Pocus replies. “We would like to ask you a few questions, and it’d be nice if you answered them as honestly as you can.”
“Sure,” Alejandro replies, flashing us a camera-worthy smile. “You see, I’ve always wanted the world to recognize my… abilities. It took a lot of sacrifices and hard work to get to this point.”
