AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Guess I’m not the only one around here who enjoys a little telekinesis.
He wipes his palms down the sides of his apron and makes for a redbrick building, where he pulls his phone from his pocket, inserts his earbuds, and shutters his eyes as he leans against the wall and listens to a melody that leaves him looking so peaceful and dreamy, I’m tempted to land on his shoulder and listen in too.
I flit from my perch, desperate for a better view. Using the raven’s eyes to soak in the casual slant of Dace’s shoulders, the gleam of his hair falling down the front of his tee, the long, lean line of his body, the way his apron dips low at his waist and skims over his thighs. Content with watching him for as long as it lasts, regretting the moment he sighs, pushes away from the wall, and heads back.
I follow his lead, careful to keep close to the buildings, remain unobtrusive, unseen. Tracking him all the way to the back door of the club, where Auden and his bandmates have been replaced by the waitress who served me the last time I was here.
She stands in the doorway, posture stooped, arms folded across her chest, while Cade looms before her, berating her in a way that leaves her wincing in shame.
I creep closer, wondering if I should do something to stop him, jab my beak into those creepy blue eyes—when Dace moves in and handles it for me in a less violent way.
He slips an arm around her, murmuring soft words of comfort, as he fixes a hard stare on his brother, and says, “That’s enough.”
Cade glares. Dismisses his brother with a wave of his hand. “Stay out of it, Whitefeather. This is none of your business,” he snaps, returning to the waitress, picking up where he left off, when Dace interferes once again.
“You’ve made it my business,” Dace says, turning to the waitress and ushering her into the club.
Her sudden departure causing Cade to erupt in fury when he shouts, “You’ve no right to interfere!”
Dace lifts his shoulders, shoves his hands into his pockets, and says, “She works hard, you need to cut her some slack.”
“Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?” Cade’s voice bearing the same outrage he wears on his face. “Unless you’ve decided to change your last name to Richter, I don’t see how you have any say in it. You’re nothing more than hired help around here. Never forget that.”
Dace stands before him, not the least bit intimidated. “You’d get a lot more out of your employees if you treated them with a little respect,” he says, not so much as flinching when Cade steps forward, face fully inflamed.
“What gives you the right to tell me how to run my business—huh?” His hands curl to fists as he reaches for his brother, only to have Leandro appear in the doorway, his large form crowding the space.
“Your business?” He stares hard at his
favored son, the one he engineered to his exact specifications. “Don’t you think you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself?” He grips Cade’s shoulder and yanks him away from Dace. “Stop making trouble. Leave your brother alone. I mean it, Cade, do not make me warn you again.” He nods at Dace, motions him through the door, returning to Cade, voice lowered when he says, “I don’t like him any more than you do, but your actions only prove that you’re nowhere near ready to take over this business or any other business. It’s time you learn a little diplomacy.”
He heads inside, leaving Cade to grapple with his words—grapple with an anger so intense, so palpable, it transforms him into the blazing-eyed, snake-tongued, demon boy I know him to be.
The effect lasting only a moment, yet long enough to shock me in a way that causes the delicate balance of energy to shift. So when the raven springs from the roof and soars toward the heavens—he goes without me. Leaving me an inert, glassy-eyed mess, slumped over a bench in Paloma’s backyard.
thirty
“Isn’t this kind of weird?” I glance at Paloma through the bathroom mirror. “You know, the grandmother urging the granddaughter to go clubbing, and even offering to drive her?”
Paloma forces a smile, as though she’s in on the joke, but the way it fails to reach her eyes tells me her mind is preoccupied with a new set of worries.
“What is it?” I take a moment to face her, mascara wand hovering before me.
“I’m afraid this isn’t just about going clubbing with your friends, nieta.” She meets my gaze with a look of regret. “While I want you to have fun with Xotichl and Auden, you should know that there’s much more at stake than listening to music and enjoying yourself.”
I nod, waiting for her to reveal the agenda. But Paloma being Paloma—a person who likes to dole it out slowly—she turns her focus to fussing with her sky-blue cardigan instead. Taking way too long to get it draped over her shoulders just so, despite the fact that she rarely wears it inside. It’s a delay tactic, no getting around it, but I decide not to push it and return to coating my lashes the way Jennika taught me—swiping the brush horizontally at the base, then nudging it vertically all the way to the tips.
“As I mentioned before, Enchantment is a place of many vortexes that provide portals that lead to the various worlds,” Paloma says in a voice that’s dry and tight. “But what I didn’t tell you, is that there’s one at the Rabbit Hole as well. The Rabbit Hole holds many secrets, though their portal is not only difficult to find but also well guarded. Only the most gifted Seekers have been able to locate it—though no Seeker has ever been able to enter.”
I shoot her an uneasy look, wondering if that’s what she’s expecting me to do—not only find it but enter it too. If that’s the plan, then I’m sorry to say that kind of espionage is way out of my league.
“Make no mistake, nieta, I don’t ask you to access it tonight. In fact, I strictly forbid it,” she says, her hands clasping as her gaze locks on mine. “Even if you are able to find it, under no circumstances are you to enter. You’re not yet ready, and there will be plenty of time for that later. For now, all I ask is that you try to locate it, then report back once you’ve succeeded.”
I take a deep breath, turning to face myself again. My hair is lank and straight, and that’s the way it’ll stay; I’m not one for fluff and curls. And after enhancing my eyes with dark liner and a third coat of mascara, I add a hint of peach blush at my cheeks, and complete the look with my usual dab of lip salve. No need to overdo it. No need to look like I’m trying too hard to impress.
I return to Paloma, leaning against the counter when I say, “Okay, so, how do you suggest I do that? How will I recognize it? What does a portal even look like? And didn’t you say that it’s guarded? So how am I supposed to get anywhere near it?” The second the words are out, my eyes bulge in horror when I realize I sound exactly like Jennika—shooting a full stream of questions, without once pausing for breath. Which isn’t exactly one of the traits I’d hoped to inherit.
“I guess it’s safest to say that you’ll know it when you see it. I’m afraid there is no set standard for what a vortex looks like. Sometimes you know it by the way the air grows suddenly hazy and shimmery—like you saw in Morocco. Other times, it’s more dense, greasy, and bleary looking. Sometimes, it’s more of a feeling—a perceptible rise in energy—as though the area is vibrating higher and faster than anywhere else. In that case, you will often notice the entire area affected as well. Twisted Juniper tree branches are always a good indication,” she says, her words reminding me of the time I rode on the reservation with Chay, when I saw a twisted juniper tree, and he wouldn’t let me get anywhere near it, said I wasn’t ready just yet. But I don’t mention it to Paloma, I just nod for her to continue.
