 
#  Circleborn

#  The Broken Circle Book I

Nicholas Stephenson
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the writer's imagination or are used fictitiously.

Copyright ©2014 Nicholas Stephenson

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without express written permission of the publisher.

Table of Contents

Table of Contents 3

Chapter One 5

Chapter Two 12

Chapter Three 18

Chapter Four 28

Chapter Five 35

Chapter Six 44

Chapter Seven 51

Chapter Eight 56

Chapter Nine 60

Chapter Ten 67

Chapter Eleven 75

Chapter Twelve 81

Chapter Thirteen 87

Chapter Fourteen 95

Chapter Fifteen 103

Chapter Sixteen 108

Epilogue 117
Chapter One

Everyone heard the man's gun cock.

Everyone saw him bring it to level.

Most of them were sure of what was going to happen next. But silently some believed the man would chicken out, drop the gun and run away like the coward everyone made him out to be.

Yet the man's eyes showed determination, and as he pulled the trigger three times, the entire crowd jumped as the bullets raced for their skulls.

Well everyone except for two people.

Ryan wasn't paying attention to the man on screen—his girlfriend's lips were more interesting. When you've seen the movie as many times as he had—heard more than seen actually— you don't startle at the actor's next move. You know his life like a playbook. Every step, every word, every bullet, and seeing it in 3D didn't make it any more interesting. If anything at all was made attractive by the 3D glasses, it was how they clinked as they rubbed against each other.

In truth, Ryan wanted to take them off before he started making out with Cindy. He knew the glasses would cause complications, but Cindy didn't want to wait and once the room darkened her lips assaulted his. You'd think she'd first let Ryan see the part where the man gets beat up so bad he craps himself. He thought that bit was funny. But he knew all too well that losing control wasn't funny. In fact, it was the worst joke to tell, and the punchline hurt like hell.

Making out at the movies every night wasn't his idea either, it was Cindy's, she had this obsession with doing stuff in public. Ryan hoped that by tomorrow the cinema would show a different movie. Perhaps something with fewer gunshots and blood. The shots were starting to give him a headache and the blood... Well, the blood was another story altogether.

Forget about it, it hasn't happened in weeks.

But that was a lie, it had happened the day before. And the day before that. And the day before the day before that. In short, it was taking a pattern, but not only that, it was happening in faster, closer successions. He even felt it was getting more intense too.

Damn that stupid kid.

The first time it happened in a long while was during Phys. Ed class. A kid got injured while they were playing basketball. There was a small scratch on his elbow that was insignificant to him but paramount to Ryan. Ryan scanned the boy the moment he got back on his feet. He was searching for any sign of blood. At the moment he didn't find any. Most people would say that Ryan was terrified of blood and they weren't wrong either. They were so right he sometimes believed that they also knew why he was like that. But no one else knew, not even his girlfriend. He was sure of it. The only other person that knew was his father, and dead men tell no tales.

Practice resumed, and during a tackle, Ryan brushed against the kid that fell. For Ryan class ended at that same moment. He grimaced, doubled over himself and quickly left the court. No one saw him again until the next day.

Stop thinking about it, it might start happening again.

He was right; thinking about it might irritate the disease. It usually does. He didn't want that to happen, not now, not here. Not with all these people around and especially not with his girlfriend right beside him, her tongue poking around in his mouth.

So many lives. So cheery and hopeful. So little blood, to spill all of theirs.

_I said stop_!

But it was too late, it was already starting. Instead of getting out as quickly as possible Ryan still sat there, thinking he could finally control it this time. There's no blood anywhere after all.

Without the blood, nothing could happen. But the blood always found a way to him, he knew that. Be it a jogger's finger pricked by a thorn and the blood then smeared on a leaf, only later he's to find himself touching that same leaf. Or it could be a student got a paper cut, and he feels that same book. It could even be that a butcher was chopping up some pigs and the blood splatter catches him.

Whatever it was, however it happened, it always ended with two specific results. One, blood finds him; two, somewhere or something, even someone, disappears. People knew he feared the blood, but what they didn't know was that he secretly craved it. He couldn't explain it; the thing he feared and avoided the most was the thing that could hold him spellbound for hours. He could sense it wherever it was, and he was always being drawn to it. Or it to him. Right now he was detecting it in his girlfriend. He was hearing it rush through the veins of her neck.

He could hear it calling out to him, begging him to take a sip, and he could taste it through her lips.

Wait, taste it? His head jerked back to examine the girl. Sure enough, her mouth was bleeding. The blood welled in a small slit on her bottom lip, but Ryan knew that was enough to erase this entire cinema and everyone in it.

"What's wrong, Ryan?" Cindy's clear blue eyes fixed him, "Is it the bite? Don't worry, I don't think you're a freak. I happens."

Ryan knew she got two things wrong there. One, he _was_ a freak. Two, _it_ doesn't happen. Not to normal people. He could already feel it; he knew it was starting now. His skin burned, his insides turned and his muscles tensed. A gnawing pit opened up in his stomach that demanded to be satisfied, and he felt like he would explode if he didn't fill it. Then there was the usual pull. An intense, magnetic attraction to the bodies around him. Nothing sexual nor physical; it was purely primal, and it was solely for the blood running through their veins. At this moment he knew the exact location of every living thing around him. Once the creature had a heart that pumped blood, he knew exactly where it was. He was trying to hold back, but the feeling was overwhelming.

I can tame it this time.

He felt at his torso, expecting to feel a familiar round shape, but instead just his bare chest. He checked his pockets. Both were empty.

"What the hell? Where is it?" He whispered to himself.

"Ryan, it's gonna be okay. It's just a little blood. Don't freak out."

How could he not freak out? He got a taste of her blood, and now the curse was activated. Nothing's going to be okay when he turns her to vapor.

Ryan wanted to vent. In fact, 'wanted' was a very useless word right now. Because whether he wanted to or not, it was going to happen. There was no switch for this thing.

The urges and sensations magnified by the second. It was like a bubble of gas swelling in his being, and all that gas wanted to do was expand until it burst. Well, bursting was the real endgame for that bubble and no matter what, the bubble always wins. He knew that too well.

Before long he was doubling over himself. A futile fight against the bubble. Against the energy inflating inside him. Against the curse that was tearing his cells to shreds. Soon, his cells weren't going to be the only things tearing. He could already see it on the back of Cindy's chair. The dark red cushion was disintegrating, and the fabric disappeared, inch by inch, into nothingness; looking much like embers leaving a flame.

It was getting too close to Cindy; he couldn't let that happen. So, as hard as it was, as painful as each turn and step was, he got up and ran out with Cindy yelling at him.

Soon he was skidding on the pavement just outside the theatre entrance. He bumped into a few people and — he didn't see it, but he was sure — took a piece of them as he did. It might be clothing, money, skin, even blood. More blood would be terrible. He wasn't sure where he was going. He had no idea where the closest vent spot was. It was usually the woods but the woods were immensely far away now, trying to reach there in time would be pointless. He'd explode before he ever did.

He was struggling to keep the bubble's expansion as small as possible, but that was getting harder and harder by the second, especially with some form of cosmic energy playing tug of war with his cells. He remembered that there was a block of abandoned buildings near-by and decided that would be the vent spot. When he stepped off the pavement to cross the street, he careened off a parking meter and took its head with him as it disintegrated.

His feet pushed, his hands swung, and his blood pumped as he ran for the abandoned block. His body was pushing everything to get him as far away from people as possible. Far away from anything living.

Finally, he stumbled through a building with a broken door. He did a quick check and saw no one. Good, he could vent here. He gave in to the bubble and crashed to the ground. Ryan felt the bubble expand within him. Soon it swelled outside of his being — eating away everything as it grew.

At first, he thought the footsteps he heard was just his imagination. But then a voice followed, but Ryan's brain couldn't make out the words. And then he saw them. A woman with a child in her hands. Both laden in rags. Both scrawny as matchsticks. Both unknowingly writing their names on the Reaper's list.

"Are you okay?" She asked. "Do you need help?"

Ryan tried to wave her away with his left hand, but it barely moved.

"Get..."

The word came faintly. The rest faded into silence.

"What?"

"Get..." he managed to say a bit louder.

"Help?" she tried to finish. "Get help? I'm going to help you, just hold on."

She set the baby down and walked towards him.

"No!" Ryan shouted.

The woman froze in her tracks.

"Get out! Get out!"

But it was too late, he saw that the bubble was beginning to envelop them and as the woman noticed she ran back for her baby. Ryan tried to stop it. He strained to reign the bubble in, but he knew that once released there was no way to bottle it up again. The world dimmed. Ryan felt his consciousness slipping. Once it finally did vanish the bubble would blow up, taking its last bite. He watched the mother run. But she didn't have the speed. Fate didn't pen her an escape. She was going to die, and not only her but the infant too.

It would be quick. It would be painless. But that didn't mean it would be any less cruel. As the darkness claimed him, Ryan saw them disappear, and he prayed that when he woke up again —if he ever woke up again — he'd be with his dad.

After all, William was the one who made him this way.
Chapter Two

Alice woke with a start. She had sensed the energy in her sleep. It was short but huge. Huge enough for her to get a general idea of where it came from. She didn't get any dreams this time. That was strange. The insights usually incited dreams as means of adding visual information to the abstract. They often hinted at whatever the spirits were trying to show her. A city, a town, a school. It wasn't always vast vistas of a landscape with the convenient 'Welcome to Jacksonville' sign somewhere in the foreground. Sometimes she received more delicate details like a public landmark, someone's favorite spot or a popular site in town.

The magic was like that. _Her_ magic was like that. Sometimes you got what you asked for, and other times you got whatever the hell it felt like giving you at the moment. She sometimes felt the Spirit had a persona of its own. One that didn't like to be pushed around all the time. Her mother warned her about that. She had told Alice that not everyone could tame Spirit magic. Of the seven known types of magic, it wasn't exactly the wildest, not by a long shot. Blood had that spot. But Spirit magic was very iffy about what you wanted it to do. So sometimes you had to be patient and persuasive. Very patient and persuasive.

The energy tingled in her skin and wormed around in her being. It was vibrant, fleeting, and robust. It was powerful. But why so powerful? There were only three types of magic that could have this much strength. Two of them she was in search of. The third she was running away from.

Given the case, she wasn't sure which of the three she just felt. That could be bad. So, for now, Alice decided to keep what she just sensed to herself until she was sure which magic it was. There was no point alarming the others about a possible discovery which could end up turning out to be nothing. Or worse, a deathtrap.

"You okay?" Florence asked, taking his blue eyes off the road for a second, "You look like you're frozen."

That's right, Alice hasn't moved since she woke up. No limbs stretched, no finger twitched, not even her eyelids flexed. Alice hadn't realized it until he said it. She didn't know why, but she just felt paralyzed. Paralyzed, that could only be it. Maybe the energy did this. Now she was genuinely concerned. She tried to speak, but nothing came. She struggled to move, but her limbs wouldn't react. She was indeed frozen.

Something was wrong about this.

The energy felt odd. It grew weaker; obviously fading. But that wasn't the odd part. The odd part was that as it disappeared, Alice was sensing something from it. A feeling, an emotion, a thought. It was hopelessness, regret and the thought came slowly. She could tell it must be a sentence or a phrase as it took its time to become clear. She hacked at it until the entirety of it was crystal.

Get Out!

"The last time I saw you like this was when—"

"I'm okay," she said and sat up in her seat. "I'm okay. I was just thinking."

She also didn't want him to bring up gunk from the past. _That_ would really paralyze her.

"Never seen you think like that before," he said, giving her a quick glance.

"That's because she's lying," a voice from the back squealed.

Alice scoffed, her eyes flickered to the mixed Asian teen on the back seat, "Shut it Jase."

"Given all the time we've spent together I thought you would be able to tell when she's lying by now," Jase continued. "Especially with that little bond of yours."

"Jase!" Alice warned.

"Okay, okay." came the surrender.

Alice then heard a sound like chalk writing on a blackboard.

"He's inscribing that rune again," Florence said.

Alice stretched a little, looking out the window at passing cars. Unlike her, they knew where they were going. Unlike them, she knew what she was running away from.

"Well, better safe than flying through a car window, right?" she tried to gauge her surroundings. "Where are we now?"

"We just crossed into Gainsborough County," he replied. "That's where you said we should go last time."

"No, I said that might be the place."

"Well, any updates?"

Alice shook her head.

"You sure?" Another quick glance.

"Yeah I'm sure, do I look like I'm unsure?"

"You look like you just felt something big," he said. "You know I can tell."

She turned her head away.

"Look, I just—"

"We're getting close."

Even from the corner of her eye, she could see the smile spreading across his face. Her arms knotted in front of her chest.

"To which one?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure yet."

"You mean of the two?"

"No, three."

Her lips pressed.

"Wait, that's not good," Jase said.

"No shit, Jase."

The car slowed to a halt.

"Alice," Florence stared at the wheel instead of her, "did you get anything else from that energy?"

"Just some small stuff. No images or anything, just thoughts, feelings," and there was something else, she overlooked it at first, "sounds."

"What sounds?"

"Gunshots."

"Gunshots?"

"Yeah, three of them."

Florence faced the road, started the engine, and joined the sparse traffic.

"It's not him," he only said.

"How are you sure?"

"When you're as powerful as Elliot is, you don't need guns."

That was too true.

"So which one are we looking at then?"

"The guy probably."

That was all they knew. Of the two people, they were looking for one was a guy and the other was a girl. That's all they could find out before they had to run. They didn't know their names, their addresses, and more importantly, they didn't know which type of magic either of two wielded. The only way they were tracking down these two successfully right now was due to the bursts of energy Alice was picking up every now and then — one of them must be having fun with their new powers.

It must be the guy. When it came to magic, boys were always more open and experimental. But right now that was a risk none of them could afford. Alice and the others needed to find the person quickly before anyone else did. Especially before _Elliot_ came into the picture.

"Yeah, it's the guy," she finally said.

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

No-one just _knows_. There had to be something really compelling to convince them. Florence knew that too. She could tell by the way his jaw clenched, and his fingers tightened on the wheel. When it came to magic, especially Spirit magic, the sureness of whatever you sense must be really high. Even if it's to tell which one of Jase's nostrils boogers were in. If you're not sure, you just might be picking the wrong one, and in this case, it means they could be driving to their doom.

But she was sure, really sure. There was something else she felt during that frozen state. The thing that made her sure of the person. Something that she didn't sense until the very minute the energy disappeared. Something that she felt just before she met Florence. Something that told her the gender of the person who released that energy, their magic and their possible place in the Circle.

The person was male, his magic was Blood, and their relationship would be just a little bit above super-complicated.
Chapter Three

Ryan groaned as he tried to move. He sprawled out his limbs to give them the wake-up stretch they needed. His arms glided across something smooth, silky, and soft. Really soft. Last time he checked dirt and rubble weren't smooth and silky. At that realization, his head jerked up. He couldn't make out much but what he did deduce was that he was in some kind of room.

He sat at the edge of the bed and massaged his bleary eyes until he thought they had gotten clear enough. As he opened them, he realized it worked and was utterly sure now that he was in a bedroom. But the picture frame on the dresser told him it wasn't his. He hoped the blonde girl in the photo wouldn't mind that he crashed here. The magic often teleported him to work off extra energy and only when the amulet finally returned to him. For a tool that was meant to keep his magic in check, it frequently went off duty; disappearing into thin air without warning.

He slinked off the bed and stumbled for the dresser, all the while trying to stop himself from throwing up. Afraid of what he might see, Ryan closed his eyes as he approached the mirror. But soon reopened it so he could confirm his appearance before he encountered anyone else. Sure enough, his eyes glowed a deep crimson shade.

He punched the mirror, shattering it to bits. The shards flew all around him. He looked at them too, lying on the floor, each slice showing a piece of his image. One shard showed half a straight face with dark hair. He tried to ignore the glowing red eye that highlighted it. He smashed his foot into the shard. There was no array of splinters, but the shard just cracked into more pieces.

Pointless.

Now that the energy had left him, and taken that building with it he felt drained and sick in his stomach. He was barely holding himself up. Add the fact that he killed two people last night and Ryan knew he'd either pass out soon or decorating this pretty pink dresser with bits of popcorn, cola and more prominently, blood.

He stepped back, stumbled a bit and then fell to the ground, crashing into the side of the bed. Ryan didn't even try to steady himself. He was going to pass out again, and even though he didn't want to, there was no way to stop it. So he sat there and watched as his vision went in and out of focus. His heart rate slowed, and his mind dulled as it entered standby — maybe even hibernation. As he was about to drift off, something caught his eye and immediately, the drowsiness began to subside. It glinted as the sunlight caught the tiny in-laid jewels. He gritted his teeth, mustered up some strength and half-lunged, half-fell on the object.

"Where were you?" He shouted.

He hammered a fist at it, but a small red shield rippled to visibility and blocked his hand. He struck again, harder this time.

"Where were you!"

He decided to put all his strength into the next strike, and as his fist made contact, he was blown back into the ceiling by an expanse of red energy. He gave out a shriek as his back slammed against the roof, followed by a grunt when he returned to the floor. He found his feet and picked up the amulet as he rose.

"Worthless junk." He flung the amulet through the open window.

Ryan was sure the stupid thing had a mind of its own. And a very mischievous one at that. At random times it would just vanish from his possession. Only to find itself back on his person sometime later. He understood why it always came back and how it managed to locate him, the effects of a homing spell his father put on it. So no matter where Ryan was the amulet would follow. But he had no idea why it disappeared in the first place.

He started getting his priorities in order. First, he needed to get out of this house before whoever lived here showed. Then he needed to get home, there was something there he wanted. He didn't even know how far he was. And then... and then... The other thing was just on the tip of his tongue, but it couldn't form. Then it hit him.

"Cindy!"

He left the poor girl at the movies all alone last night. She must've wondered where he went, seeing him take off like that. He checked his phone thinking she likely left a billion voice messages. But the missed calls and text messages were from Annabeth Hawthorne, his guardian. He sprinted out of the room and down the stairs. As he ran, he felt something bobbing in his pocket. Annoyed he reached for it and in his palm was an encircled golden Hexagram amulet.

"Now you decide to come back?"

He threw the amulet behind him. Ryan was just about to turn on the landing when someone spoke.

"Yeah, I heard it too." A feminine voice said.

"You think it's a thief?" A young male voice asked.

Ryan froze on the steps.

"Could be, I'm gonna take a look."

Ryan spun and flew upstairs. He didn't see the amulet on his way up but instead felt a familiar bobbing in his pocket. He went back into the room and made for the window. Just at the edge, he stopped, judging the height. When the door creaked open, he leaped out. The suddenness made him take off awkwardly which meant the landing wouldn't be so great. There was a slight crunch as he landed partly on one foot and partly on his face. He thought that his foot was injured, but when he wiggled the limb, there was no pain. The pain though, came when he used his right hand to push himself up, and it made him fall again on his face. His wrist was broken.

I can survive a building disintegrating, but I can't survive a damn fall. Freaking dumb magic!

He got up quickly and cradled his right hand with the left as he ran from the house. Ryan desperately looked up and down the street for a taxi. He then saw one coming around the bend and ran to meet it as he hailed. The driver stopped to let him in.

"You mind telling me where I am?"

The man stared at him for a while.

"I hate picking up aliens," he said. "We're in Lenton."

Lenton? Ryan's never been this far out before. The magic always teleported him far from the vent sites, but it's never taken him five miles away. At least he was still in Gainsborough.

"What planet are you from?"

Ryan looked at him confused.

"Planet. Come from. You?" The driver drawled the words, "God, you come to a planet and don't even speak the language."

The driver started turning out.

"I'm not an alien."

"Then why are your eyes all red?"

Ryan checked the mirror. His eyes had a dim red glow. The magic was being activated again, but he wasn't feeling pain. He looked around himself, nothing was disintegrating. But sure enough blood was leaking from his hand, and his eyes were glowing red. He took the amulet from his pocket and hastily put it around his neck. His eyes quickly dimmed to their dark blue norm. Ryan looked up to see the driver still observing him.

"Pinkeye." Ryan pointed to the amulet. "Medicinal amulet with healing herbs."

The driver looked away.

"Sure alien boy," the driver said. "So where to?"

"Denbrom."

"Sure thing."

"Can alien cash cover it?"

The engine revved.

"As long as it ain't Plutonian," he said, "Talk about spiraling economy. Everyone suddenly declares you're not a real planet and you find yourself bankrupt."

In about twenty minutes the taxi arrived in downtown Denbrom. It was just like any other city; huge aimless crowds, gigantic buildings, and a concrete footprint with enough air and noise pollution to force civilians back to the countryside. The taxi came to a halt, and Ryan fished for some cash in his pocket. He crumpled it in his fist, whispered an incantation and when he opened it again ten red rectangular papers were in his hand.

"Here," Ryan handed the money to the driver.

The driver looked at the money oddly. Then he looked at Ryan. He went back to the money again. Ryan thought the illusion spell must've failed.

A smile spread across the man's face.

"Ten Mars!" the man was excited, "Thanks man, you even know how much this is?" Yeah, a dollar. "I always loved Mars man, let me know if you need another ride."

The man seemed to be reaching for a card, but Ryan was already out by then. He walked a few blocks until he came to an apartment complex. Once at the intercom, he called his girlfriend's floor.

"Hey Cindy, it's me."

He released the button, waiting for a buzz. Or at least a reply.

"Cindy, it's Ryan. Buzz me up."

He waited again. No reply.

"You there?"

He thought he was going to be met by silence again, but then a voice came through.

"She's not here jerk."

It was Stephanie, Cindy's best friend and roommate.

"Stephanie, let me in."

"I said she's not here. Now go run out of a movie or something."

"I need to talk to her."

"She doesn't want to talk to you."

"So she's there?"

"No, she's not."

"Just let him in," Came a faint plea in the background.

"No, he doesn't deserve it," Stephanie whispered back.

"Cindy? I know you're there. I can hear you."

"That was, uh... That was my cat. I'm teaching her to sing," Stephanie said.

"Well, you're doing a terrible job."

"That's your fault."

"What did I do to your cat?"

"Let him in," Cindy's distant voice sound garbled.

"No."

"Just do it, I'm fine."

There was a sigh.

"Okay fine, just don't come crying to me next time."

There was shuffling, followed by a buzz. Ryan went opened the door, went through the foyer, and into the lift. He punched the number five, and the elevator ascended. The elevator dinged to signal his stop and Ryan headed to Cindy's door. When he was about to knock, but Stephanie opened the door. She was wearing shorts and a green Tee that matched her eyes. By the look of her brown hair, she had just woken up. She scoffed and walked past him. He went in and closed the door. As he turned into the bedroom, he saw Cindy; a teary blonde mess. Her wet eyes greeted him with last night's tale and the morning's aftershock.

He smiled at her, and she tried to return it, but it wouldn't hold. He lay on the bed beside her, and she put her head on his chest.

"I'm sorry about last night."

There was no reply.

"You know how I get around blood."

"It's the fifth time this week," she said. "Will it ever stop?"

"I don't know."

"Steph says you're just using it as a cover to cheat," she looked up at him. "Are you?"

"I'd never do that."

She stared at him for a while and then turned her head away.

"Liar."

Ryan sighed internally. Cindy had a habit of getting easily upset, angry, sad — you name it. She could flip through so many emotions in one day you'd be surprised at some new ones you see. The only person he's ever seen calm her down was Stephanie, and he was sure the girl was in no mood to help.

He could try to use his magic to calm her, but it was too unstable. Even with the amulet, it was still unpredictable. A simple attempt to dampen her emotions could easily result in destroying the entire room. Now that would be a new way to make up. His power seemed to be only good for destruction.

Her sobs started again, and no matter how much he tried cooing her she didn't stop. Between her sobs, she said all kinds of stuff like. "Don't you love me?", "Why don't you love me?", "Am I not pretty enough?" It then changed to; "Don't touch me," then, "Get off me!" and "Get out!"

Ryan stared at the raging creature before him.

"Get out!" She threw a teddy bear at him.

"Cindy, just ca—"

"Get out!"

This time a pillow followed. Ryan knew that soon there would be no more fluffy things to throw and then her hand would find the hard stuff. He needed to be out by then. He retreated, but his eyes never left her. He needed to monitor the missiles she was launching so that he could dodge them when they neared. He bumped into Stephanie outside. Ryan studied her, she was contempt, and he thought he even saw her lips ready to curl in a smile.

"You knew."

"Knew what?"

"You knew she'd act like this," he said, "that's why you let me in."

If there was any time for his magic to spiral out of control now was such a time. He could blame Stephanie's disintegrating body on the magic and not his burning desire to drink her blood dry. He's always been tempted by blood. He's always longed to taste it. But no blood teased him like Stephanie's, not even Cindy's, and he didn't know why.

The curl spread a little.

"You caused it, don't blame me for this."

"What's your problem?"

"My problem? What's your problem?"

Something shattered on the wall beside Ryan. Their eyes dueled for a moment, and finally, Ryan forfeited.

"Just calm her down before she breaks everything in there."

"So you can live happily ever after when I'm done cleaning up this mess?" Her eyes narrowed. "I don't think so."

Something else shattered.

"Either that or she's going to destroy the place," he said. "Either way you still have clean-up duty."

Their eyes made another parry until an ascending meow broke the deadlock and Stephanie saw something furry sailing for Ryan.

"Skittles!" She yelped.

As she tried to catch the cat, an extended claw ripped her skin. The injury wasn't significant; the blood wasn't much, but when it made contact with Ryan's skin as Stephanie tumbled into him, the magic tried to tear its way out. Ryan flung the girl off and skittered backward as the girl stared at him oddly. He squinted, got up, and turned for the lift.

"Ryan what's—"

"Just calm down Cindy, okay?" he said eyes now open. "Tell her I'll come by later."

He didn't wait for a reply as he was already in the lift. With his back still turned he ordered the elevator to descend, clutching the amulet in his hand. As much as he'd like to see Stephanie gone, he could effortlessly send the entire block along with her. Cindy was on that block.
Chapter Four

The scent of the kitchen always sent Daisy into a frenzy. The cacophony of spices that assaulted her nostrils gave her this odd high. Something like weed. Not that she smoked of course. That was against work policy, and if her boss found out, she would be fired. Not only that, but he would also tell her parents. And the only thing that could stop her boss from ratting her out was if she accepted _overtime_. It took her a while before she found out what the perv meant.

He caught her smoking around the back one day, and she was so high she agreed to do anything for him not to tell her parents. That's how the idea of 'overtime' came into existence. She spent two hours in his office after that; they both came out hot and sweaty. Since that day she never smoked again. Not at work at least and her parents were thrilled about that.

Even though Daisy loved the smell of the kitchen, she never worked there. She was just a waitress in the diner making what little she could. But her parents sent her there to teach her responsibility not to primarily make money. It wasn't backbreaking work, but she decided to thank her parents for the lesson by bringing home a different guy every week. That gave her mom fits and sent her dad running for his imaginary gun.

Today was slow. Usually, there would be more people in the diner. Around twenty-something. She only counted five today. Daisy wondered if the lack of people was related to last night's news report. They said there was a killer on the loose. Specifically, a mass murderer.

Daisy thought that the person was either a psycho or some satanic devout that needed the boatload of bodies to complete some form of ritual. Whichever of the two, he was, she hoped she would never cross paths with him. The killer usually murdered people in public places or where crowds tend to gather. The first time it happened was at a rave. The second time it happened was at the movies.

She actually planned to go to the movies later with Sean — a guy who came in earlier. At least she thought his name was Sean. It could've been Chad. He was a cute emo kinda guy. Just the type she needed to give her mom a heart attack. She hoped the killer wouldn't show at the movies later even though she knew that the cinema where the last killing happened was in another town.

Daisy raised her head when the front door chimed. She looked across to see a white bald man with tattoos step in. A few guys who looked like the first followed him. She thought they must be a biker group. The first guy stared at her. Daisy figured he'd be perfect to bring home this week. Screw Sean.

"Daisy... Daisy!" That voice sounded like Charlotte's.

"Yeah?" Daisy yelled back as she left a table and went back to the counter.

The man eyed her all the way.

"Green wants to see you."

Daisy sighed, "What does he want now?"

"More of that ass, probably."

Daisy had told Charlotte about what happened. Somehow the two had become fast friends. Maybe it was because Charlotte was a rebel. Something Daisy always tried to be.

"Probably gonna eat it."

Charlotte's laugh faded as Daisy went around back.

It was a small tight space. The only things that could fit were a desk and a small cabinet. Daisy knew the room could've been more prominent, but the scrooge that was eyeing her across the desk wasn't very generous with the paper in his pocket.

"You wanted to see me?" She asked.

"I have something to show you."

Daisy wondered what the hell he had that he thought she needed to see.

"What is it?"

"Something I'm sure your parents wouldn't want to know about."

Without looking away, he reached under the table and retrieved something. He dropped the treasure on the desk. Daisy eyed the white thing that had a black tip. Was he seriously doing this?

"That's not mine," she said.

"Looks like yours."

"I don't smoke weed. It's not mine."

"Then whose is it?" He already knew the answer.

"I don't know."

"We've done this before, Daisy," he said quite bored, "you know how this ends. I could easily make it yours."

He undid his belt and then his hand disappeared into his pants. She knew he wasn't asking anymore. He was just telling.

"Don't do this," Daisy said.

His hand started moving up and down.

" _You_ shouldn't have done _this_ ," he said, picking up the used blunt.

"You know it's not mine!"

"What I know is that I went out back looking for you because your break was over and you didn't come back yet, and then I saw you were puffing on this," he said it with such surety it might've actually happened. "And you better know it too before your parents do."

A sick twisted smile took his face. Daisy didn't want to do this again. That's why she cut down on her smoking in the first place. No matter what he said, she wasn't going to give in to Green's blackmail. She wasn't going to let him inside her again. The last time this happened, she thought she didn't have a choice — thanks to the weed. Now she knew she had a choice and she wasn't going to let Green use her.

The door flung open. Daisy jumped on reflex and Green hastily tried to retrieve his hand from his crotch.

"What the hell? Who are you? What're you doing in here?" Green said.

The man that entered moved his head in an odd reptilian way. Daisy recognized him. It was the same guy who came into the diner before Green called her. He looked a lot scarier up close. He would definitely scare the shit out of her mom. Probably even her dad too. Maybe then they'd learn their lesson. Daisy tried to get his attention, but the man ignored her.

"I'm here to complain about the food," he said.

"Well, you can't just barge into a private office," Green gathered himself, trying to get back his professional air, "What's wrong with the food?"

"There's not enough and my gang's starving."

Green raised an eyebrow.

"Did someone say we were out of food?" Green quickly glanced at Daisy. "That can't be. I'm sure we have lots more. Let me check with the kitchen. Come on."

"No need. Now that we found you two, it's enough."

Green's eyes nearly popped. Daisy would've laughed at his expression, but she was frozen by what the man just said. At first, she thought he was joking but not even a smile leaked from the man.

"I'm sorry what—"

"Shut up," the man said, "I don't have time to waste. We can't stay here long."

Green's lips seemed to seal themselves.

Daisy heard a growling sound as something slithered in behind her. Another man came into the room. He looked much like the first with the bald head and tattoo. But his entire eyeballs were black like charcoal.

The new man leaned over the desk and grabbed Green's face with one hand. He stared straight into Green's eyes. Green tried to break free, but the man was too strong. He started clawing at the man's hand. The man only looked annoyed.

"You can't move your hands," the new man said.

Immediately Green's hands stopped flailing.

"You're relaxed."

Green slumped in the chair. Satisfied, the new man leaned over and bit off a piece of Green's neck. Blood squirted to no end. Green should be screaming his head off right now, but not even air escaped his lips. Instead, his glassy eyes fixed Daisy. Even though Green couldn't scream Daisy did the screaming for him as she ran out. She screamed so loud the man beside her winced slightly.

Green was a sick pervert, but he didn't deserve that. No-one did. She headed for the front of the diner, but she felt as if she was transported to a different world. The restaurant was dark and quiet except for a few crunching and growling noises.

She looked around and then noticed there were more of the men she saw in the office and they were all feasting on the people in the diner. Some were even fighting over body parts. Her scream echoed and alerted them. Some of them stood and began to approach.

"Mine!" a voice behind her announced.

The others backed off, returning to their meals. When Daisy turned, it was the first man who came into the office. He approached slowly, and all she wanted to do was run. He was different now. His entire eyes were charcoal black. As she looked into them, she felt like she was sinking into an abyss.

"Don't move," the man said.

But Daisy ignored him. She would run for miles if she had to. Anything to get away from these freaks. She made to sprint but went nowhere. Her limbs didn't even budge.

"You will answer my questions truthfully," he said. "Nod for yes and shake for no."

What's this freak gonna ask her, if they had spare arms in the fridge?

"Have you seen these people?"

The man held up a photo of three kids, two guys, one blonde and the other Asian, and a girl with straight black hair and olive skin. She remembered the girl because she wanted to take out a lot of food. Plus, Daisy envied the way the blond guy lurked around her.

Daisy didn't want to sell out these kids, but she didn't have a choice. Even though she intended to shake her head, it nodded without her approval.

"Now you can speak freely," he said. "Tell me when."

"A few days ago."

"Good." he said, rubbing her arm tentatively as he lifted it, "You will not scream," he said as he took out a small knife, "because you will not feel pain."

The man sliced a chunk out of her arm as if he was slicing through cake. It went down his throat with a slight gulp and a satisfied smile. Blood flowed from her arm, and he hastily drank. Not wanting to waste a single drop.

Daisy didn't feel any pain. She didn't scream. But a single tear left her eye, and she knew that if the man ordered her not to cry it would dry and never return.

The man dug in for more.
Chapter Five

Clutching his injured wrist, Ryan walked up to the gate of his estate; The Galleon. He hadn't been there since last summer. A summer he tried his hardest to forget. But ghosts loved the company of the living. He wasn't spared a moment without the horror.

Ryan had decided not to call for the car to take him home when he was in Denbrom because he didn't want Hawthorne to flood him with her usual barrage of questions. Even though she was the estate manager and — since last summer— his legal guardian, he didn't think she needed to know everything he was doing all the time. She still tried to monitor him, despite his attempts to isolate himself.

Opening the gates, Ryan began his long trek to the house. The path was flanked by massive deciduous trees that filled the breadth of it with shade. The air here felt similar to his boarding school, crisp and fresh. Ryan had always liked the country. It was calming. But more importantly, out here, his exposure to blood was significantly reduced. It would've been nil if Hawthorne and a few other servants weren't around. But surprisingly he had never come in contact with their blood.

Mostly because they were aware of his condition. His father made sure of that. Even so, their level of carefulness was unreal. Albeit unnatural.

Thinking about blood made him think about Stephanie. More specifically about her taste; the taste of her blood. He couldn't understand it, he couldn't explain it, but even though the blood didn't meet his tongue, he could still taste it. And hers tasted divinely sweet. Like strawberries coated in honey. He wanted to bleed her dry right then and there, but he knew Cindy wouldn't be too happy about seeing the pale, limp form of her best friend on the hallway floor. That's if the magic didn't vaporize her and half of Denbrom first.

He wished so much that he could have another taste of Stephanie's blood right now. Even just a drop would do. But Stephanie wasn't around, and even if she was, he couldn't just cut the poor girl and start feasting. He couldn't kill her just because of his greed. His father taught him self-control, but for some reason, it always wavered around Stephanie.

An image of the short, neat brunette sprung up in his head. She was pretty. Admittedly prettier than Cindy. And even though she didn't have Cindy's hot curvaceous body a lot of guys would date her if she stopped lurking around greenhouses, gardens, and zoos.

The thought of her sent a wave of tranquility over him. He had no idea why. He and she often fought, mostly concerning Cindy, so the thought of her should rile him. Yet it was the very opposite. He closed his eyes, relishing the feeling.

Her deep green eyes seemed to be right in front of him. The hunger for her blood increased. He staggered off to the side and collided with a tree. He reached out his hand to steady himself but soon slumped at its base. An odd feeling overwhelmed him.

He had an urge to call out to her.

Stephanie.

The thought bounced around in his head, and he didn't know why. In his vision, the girl turned to look at him. Then the oddest thing happened. She replied.

Ryan?

Her voice not only flowed in his head but it sounded as if he could hear it all around him. Like she was actually there.

His eyes flung open searching for her. But they only met bark and pavement. Even so, he swore he could smell her scent in the air.

Dammit, he shouldn't be yearning for her like this. Why was he so intent on seeing her again? Did he somehow subconsciously like her? Even worse, did she think that too and then told Cindy that he was attracted to her?

No, of course not! She was Cindy's best friend. She couldn't have told Cindy that or else Cindy would've broken up with him by now. And he was sure he didn't want her. He just wanted her blood. And the next time he sees her, he might not be able to control himself.

Ryan was at the house now. Any normal kid would be greeted by his mom and dad, maybe just his dog. Instead of those three Ryan was greeted by a tall woman in a black and white suit. Her blond hair was up in a bun which meant she was busy all day. He probably was greeted by a dog given the way she watched him through her tiny eyeglass. Eyes that flitted to his right hand.

He didn't hate Hawthorne he just hated her nosiness. Beyond that she was okay.

"Where've you been Ryan?" She asked. "Would it kill you to answer your phone?"

"Just a bit busy," he quickly replied.

A gnawing hunger remained with him since this morning. It was riled a few minutes ago. Now Hawthorne's blood hypnotized him. So keeping the conversation short would probably keep her alive.

He stepped past her, but she caught him and spun him around. If only she knew the danger, she was putting herself in. After tasting Stephanie's blood this morning, his thirst just tripled with every passing second.

"A bit busy hurting yourself," she beckoned him closer. "What the hell happened to your hand?"

"I fell."

Annabeth looked up at him and then back to his wrist. He winced as she tenderly flexed it.

"You should be glad it's only sprained. Come on."

She led him to the kitchen where she took out a first-aid kit from one of the drawers.

"You're supposed to stay here for the summer not out on the streets like you're some helpless urchin."

She began to wrap his wrist.

"Well I can't have my friends over so where would I see them?"

"Of course you can have friends over."

"Even Cindy?"

The woman's nose wrinkled.

"Exactly." Ryan made to walk off again, but Annabeth's hand caught him.

"I just don't think she's," Ryan stared at the woman as she searched for a word, "healthy for you."

Ryan shrugged her off, "Doesn't matter what you think."

"Does she really mean that much to you?"

"Of course she does, she's my girlfriend."

"Well, she must. The first day you get back from school, and you go straight to her place," she sighed. "Fine she can come over just be careful. You might think she's perfect for you now but soon you'll see she isn't. You'll find the right girl when you realize that," she stopped and furrowed her brow. "Maybe that brunette I see her with sometimes."

She patted his hand lightly once it was securely wrapped.

"Oh God don't."

Ryan left the kitchen.

"Are you okay, Ryan?"

Usually, the question would mean if he's physically fine. But that had changed.

"Yeah."

It was a lie. But don't people tend to hide their emotions? Or at least try.

"You know if it ever gets rough I'm here for you."

"Yeah, I know. You're still that creepy stalker lady I told you not to be."

Ryan knew she cared about him. She was like a mother. He even thought that she was trying to be his mother once. When his father was alive, they spent a lot of time together. They joked around and laughed whenever they had some downtime. They always seemed too close, and Ryan worried that his father was trying to replace his mom. But his dad reassured him that they were just close friends. Annabeth cried all day after his funeral. Ryan tried to comfort her, but it had the opposite effect. They say grief loved company. He didn't feel any better among the crowd at his father's funeral. But in Annabeth's presence, there was an unspoken communion. She also infected him with her excessive crying.

The house wasn't insanely huge. Most of the estate was divided into farmland, gardens and the entry into woodlands at the back. His father had workers who helped to tend the farmland and gardens. After he died all of them stayed except one – a tall brown-haired woman with familiar green eyes. Out of all the workers, she took the most interest in the estate's herbal affairs. She often had long discussions with Ryan's father which led to major changes in how they grew the crops and groomed the plants. This quickly led to her supervising the entire section of that estate. To see her disappear after putting in so much effort puzzled Ryan. It disappointed him too.

The house had three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, kitchen, dining room and his father's study. Then there was the back porch where his father spent a lot of time meditating. His father had told him that meditation calmed the urges. He was right as always, but Ryan stopped practicing the minute the old man passed away.

Ryan didn't like thinking about his father's death. Each thought made him want to curl into a ball and just lock himself away. Just being in this house was agonizing. But he had come here for a reason and once accomplished he won't return.

Ryan went up the stairs, turned left and headed for his father's room. As he opened the door, he expected to be greeted by musty, stale air but the room felt fresh. No, it was scented. He recognized the fragrance. It was his dad's favorite cologne. Annabeth must've been in here recently. Guess she was feeling the season's sorrow too.

Ryan moved swiftly in the clean, neat room that Annabeth must've spent every grieving second in. He didn't want to be in here longer than necessary. He rushed to check his father's closet. It was empty; Ryan was shocked Annabeth had gotten rid of the clothes already. He was even more shocked that the shoebox-sized wooden chest that he came for was missing.

In a panicky state, he tore through the entire room. He searched the drawers, looked under the bed and even checked for loose floorboards but still came up empty. Where was it? He needed that chest. In it was the one thing that could give him a permanent way to end his urges. It might also explain why he was so hungry for Stephanie's blood.

There's only one other place it could possibly be; his father's study. But how the hell did it get there? The last time he was here it was in the closet. Maybe Annabeth moved it when she was clearing out his father's stuff. Ryan sprinted downstairs, down the hall, past the dining room and opened the door to the study. Books lined the walls, and a few stacks were still on the desk just as his father left them.

He checked the desk drawers. Nothing. Well, not really nothing. A few papers and stationery but to Ryan it meant nothing. He banged the desk in frustration. He suddenly felt the familiar shape of the amulet in his hand.

His father gave him that amulet when he was a boy. He had told Ryan it was going to help control his magic. But it proved useless. Its _control_ led to him taking two lives last night. Their faces were still plastered at the front of his mind. The woman looked on with grim terror in her eyes. But it was the child's clueless expression that ached Ryan's heart the most. He would never forgive himself. In a fit of anger, he threw the amulet to the ground.

He didn't need a freaking amulet. He wanted the spell book that was inside the chest!

He was going to continue his assault on the desk, but a glint from behind him caught his eye. He turned to investigate. It was the amulet glowing red and around it in a small circle were three words.

Ryan stood over the amulet and examined them.

"Terum mar unda."

The place blurred and Ryan felt a rush through and around him as if he was on a roller coaster. Then everything grew still and dark. Ryan wondered if he had just done a spell that killed all the lights. The darkness was thick. He couldn't see anything.

His attention was then drawn to something shimmering from his left. Somehow a candle was lit. Another then sparked and glowed. One on the other side came on as well. It went on like this until the entire place was illuminated. Ryan couldn't believe what he was seeing.

He looked around and found even more books than what was in the study. Apart from books, there were tubes and pots. And at the top side of the cave, on a wall, was a symbol. He had seen the emblem before; it was a golden Star of David.

The place looked like some witch's cave. But it wasn't a witch's cave. It was a sorcerer's cave. His father's cave. The words under the Star of David on the wall hinted that it wasn't just a cave for one. The words didn't look like a spell. It seemed more like a motto. A motto of a cult maybe. When Ryan got closer, it read 'Terum Mar Unda, Sicteum Octe Naeve.'

Was his father a part of a cult?

Did that have something to do with his death?
Chapter Six

"Right here," Alice said, releasing her seat belt.

"What? Are you sure?" Jase asked.

She didn't think so either. If it were any other occasion Alice would've thought the magic was wrong, or maybe just messing with her — it did that sometimes — but when she felt the energy similar to last night she knew it wasn't. Hairs prickled at her nape.

"She's right," Florence grimaced, "this is the spot."

Jase peered through the tinted window of the SUV, "Better be. Let's go then."

He opened the door and got out. Alice glanced back at him and saw the fierce determination on his face.

"He needs to take it easy," she said to Florence.

"He's hurting. He has a right to be like that," the scowl on Florence's face intensified. "Or did you forget already?"

Did he really just say that? Forget? How could she forget that night? How could she forget a massacre? He knew better than to say something like that. The grief that filled her was like nothing she had ever experienced.

Before that night she would occasionally wonder what would happen to her if her parents died, but no amount of speculation could prepare her for the reality of it. That night, she discovered the answer; Eliot would chase her to the ends of the earth.

Seeing your father torn to bits by Siphs — pale flesh-eating creatures of Eliot's creation — wasn't anything that could be erased from memory. Hearing the wails of your mother as her throat was slit open wouldn't just stop your breath and crush your heart into tiny little pieces, it would rip your soul to shreds.

So no, Florence, she didn't forget! She just chose not to dwell on it every minute like she had been doing days ago. That resulted in her conjuring random ghosts that either tried to kill her or take over her body. Magic and imbalanced emotions didn't mix well. Especially Spirit magic. So letting her feelings run rampant wasn't a choice. That's unless Florence would like to see ghosts roaming all of Lile and possessing half the inhabitants. Only half because spirits were unbelievably picky about their hosts. To prevent that from ever happening, she made Jase inscribe a temperament rune on her that allowed her to rein in her feelings. It was like having a remote control for her emotions. The numb button being her favorite.

"I didn't forget," she said getting out, "at least one of us needs to keep a level head," she slammed the door. "Or we're all going to die."

She walked around to the left side of the car and brushed her hair away. With clearer vision, she observed the scene. Florence's next words voiced her thoughts.

"What the hell happened here?"

"I think we already know the answer," Alice said as she walked forward.

A large crowd in front of them encircled a massive crater. Some of the people were holding up signs saying stuff like "UFO landing site," others said, "aliens returning," and most had, "end of times" written boldly. The last sign she saw read "visited by otherworldly beings." They just might be right. But it wasn't alien life; it was something a lot closer to home.

A few TV stations were there trying to report over the commotion. This guy definitely made an impact in Lile's relatively quiet atmosphere. She thought she heard them say something about a terrorist attack. Also half right. She just hoped the terrorist was still around so she could take him away.

Alice pushed through the thick crowd to get closer. It was hard to get past the alien fanatics, end of times lunatics and religious faiths. She stood a meter from the rim of the crater and stared into its depth. It looked about fifty meters deep. She knew if she fell in she'd be coming back up with broken bones. That must be why police cordoned off the edge with metal barriers.

"He did this?" Jase asked as he stood on her left.

She couldn't believe it either. Was Blood really that powerful?

"Whoa, if we get him on our side Eliot's dead."

Alice glanced at Jase. He said the word so casually you'd think he's been killing people for sport. She knew trauma changed people but does that mean they become monsters? She didn't want to be a monster.

"But why did he do this? It doesn't make sense."

"Because he's a wild beast, that's why," Florence said. "The Bloods always did whatever they wanted. Senseless, barbaric savages."

"For all we know, Eliot could've gotten to him, and he was defending himself."

"Well, then Eliot must be dead. So that would mean problem solved and we all go home, right?" Jase said. "Wait we don't have a home, so it doesn't matter anyway."

"Don't you think I know that!" Alice glared at him.

"Take it easy, guys." Florence came in between them.

Alice looked back to the crater, her eyes greyed as she studied it keenly. A red mist, unnoticeable by normal eyesight, lingered in its depths, "Let's just find Blood, then Nature and then we kill Eliot."

The word slipped out of her mouth just as easily as it came from Jase's. She felt a little emotion leak in her voice too. The moment she noticed it, she felt the warmth of the rune as it lit up on her chest and the budding emotion waned.

"I still think we should go to Nature first," Florence said. "She's just as powerful and easier to deal with. We probably won't even need Blood."

"We still need him."

Florence's brow furrowed, "Nature plus the three of us can take on Eliot."

"Did you forget what your father said? We need a complete circle to take on Eliot," she glanced at Jase, "at least as complete as we can make it."

"It'll never be complete," Jase grumbled.

"And that's why we need as much power as we can get. Your _father_ said that Florence and everyone knew how he felt about the Bloods."

The inner turmoil leaked into his face. Florence was having a hard time doing this. It was against his nature, his instincts and his magic.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Alice?"

His hand found her face as he stared into her eyes. She wished he hadn't because immediately she saw right through him. She knew exactly what he was thinking, and it would cripple the Circle.

"It's the best way. We can't locate Nature just yet."

"So can we track Blood now?"

"Yeah. His residue is still leaking in and around the crater. We can use it."

"Fine then, let's do this."

"Not with these Normals lurking though," Jase said.

"We'll have to do it tonight then."

The group returned to the SUV and drove off. They got something to eat, went back to park a block from the site and then waited. When night came, they returned to the crater.

"I don't see why we can't just use a locator spell, we're close enough now right?" Jase said as they walked to the site.

"It's not about being close," she said. "He's being cloaked."

"But that's what we used to find him in the first place."

"No we didn't use it to find him we used it to find his father. And that could only happen because Florence's mother gave us a ring he had."

She saw Florence's features darken out of the corner of her eye.

"So what, he realized we were tracking him and then cloaked himself?" Jase asked. "Can you even sense when someone is tracking you?"

"If you're powerful enough."

"So he knows we're coming and hid from us!" Florence said.

"I don't think he knows it's us but if someone's trying to find you and you don't know who they are or what they want, wouldn't you hide too?"

"Why do you keep defending this guy?"

She could see the anger in his eyes. Anger that tried to mask worry. He had a right to worry. Just being near Blood's residue stirred the tug of the Circle Bonds. But she wasn't about to let some stranger come between her and Florence. Not even if it was fated.

She slipped her hand into his.

"It's just that I don't want us to approach him as if he's enemy. We can't afford to fight two powerful warlocks."

"I'm powerful too. Blood wouldn't stand a chance against me."

"I know you would crush him."

He smiled a little. Florence was indeed powerful, and Alice knew that just being in Blood's presence would stir his power.

They went around the barrier and stood at the rim. The walls were too steep for them to just walk down. Alice heard the familiar sound of chalk scrawling against a blackboard as Jase inscribed the earth control rune in his palm. He then stooped and placed the spelled palm on the earth. A green light emanated from the spot he touched.

"Let's go," Jase said.

Alice and Florence huddled at his side. A section of the ground under them rose up, moved forward and descended the flank of the crater like an escalator.

"You sure this is going to work?"

He was talking about the plan she came up with. The theory of it was sound, but she's never done anything like it before.

"Yeah," she said, "my mom did something like it a long time ago."

Her mother had used Alice's residue to track her when she ran away a couple years ago. The earth below them slowed as they came to the center. Once Jase was done with it, it sunk back to its origins. But his job wasn't done yet. Jase walked to the very center and then stooped. He placed his palm on the earth, and a second later black lines crawled from under his palm and spread out on the ground. They coalesced into a big circular rune with smaller runes inside. When he was done, he stepped back, and Alice went into the circle.

"Tela excit."

The air around them quivered and seemed to bleed as a crimson mist began to appear. But the air wasn't bleeding. It wasn't even blood. It was just magic-residue. Blood's magic-residue which was only red because that was the hue of his magic; his general aura at any given time. The residue was thin and stretched. But as the circle illuminated with white, the residue spiraled into it. Soon, a separate white mist materialized and split itself into four forms beside Alice. When fully developed they looked like dogs. But they weren't dogs. They were nature spirits that she willed to take the likeness of dogs.

The residue that was collected into the circle began to merge with the dogs, giving them a pink shade.

"So these dog-spirit-things are going to lead us to Blood?" Jase.

"No, they're gonna lead _him_ to _us_."

The dogs sped off and soon their wavy forms curled away.

"I thought you were against possessing other people," Florence said.

She was against it. Her entire bloodline was. They thought it was immoral. But desperate times called for drastic measures.

Does that mean she's turning into a monster too?
Chapter Seven

Ryan sat on the floor surrounded by a pile of open books. After searching the entire cave for the chest, he came up empty. He had examined every other book, checking to see if any of them was the one in the chest. But none were. He also searched through them for anything that could help him with the urges. They might've been useful too, but they weren't even in a language he understood. They were in the same language as the motto on the wall.

At least that's what he thought. His father taught him what he called sorcery language. There weren't a lot of lessons actually. His father was adamant that Ryan would never need it. But the language in these books wasn't the sorcery language he knew. However, it seemed like some advanced form of it. Even so, he still had no idea what the hell any of it meant. For all he knew, the books could be chronicling how stupid he was right now trying to figure them out.

All his life his father only skimmed the surface of their powers; never delving too deep into the history of their magic.

"Why are we like this dad?" Ryan had asked when he was eleven, "What are we?"

His father wrapped an arm around him. They were sitting on the back porch after completing a meditation session.

"We, son," he said, "are cursed. Slaves to an unnatural urge."

"Cursed? Why are we cursed? Who cursed us?"

"A man that thought he could change the fate of the world for the better," he said. "But he only created monsters that would worsen it."

Ryan wondered if his father was talking about monsters like vampires and werewolves. They too were beasts born of magic and also cursed. He could even liken himself to a vampire. They both had the same insatiable bloodlust. Even though his father mentioned once that Ryan's was the worst he had ever seen. Ryan knew monsters were never welcomed by society. They were endlessly hunted.

"Are we those monsters?"

"No son, not us. Only one. One bloodline. One man," He fixed Ryan with a grave gaze. "His name is Eliot. And if you're ever unfortunate enough to cross paths with him, run until your feet bleed."

A chill snaked Ryan's spine.

"Who is he?" Ryan asked, "If he's so bad then why don't you stop him?"

"He's a beast with a curse worse than ours," he said. "And I can't. Not by myself at least."

"Was mother...?" Ryan began, "Was she one of those monsters?"

There was a faint smile on his father's face. Not out of amusement at the question but from the recollection of a fond memory.

"No. God no," he said. "If angels ever walked the earth your mother would be one."

"Did she have magic too?"

"Yes," he said, "but a more civil one than ours."

"But if she did, why did she allow herself to die?"

His father's face went pale. The man turned his head away and said no more.

Ryan asked more questions, but his father refused to give him any answers. His father only told him two things about his magic. One, he should never practice under any circumstance. Two, he should tell no-one about it.

The day before he died he left Ryan with one last instruction. A warning. There would come a time when particular people will seek him out. His father told him that when they do, he should only trust the ones with a birthmark similar to his. But he should also be sure they come to him at this estate and nowhere else. Or they might kill him. Ryan always hoped they would never show up.

So here he was, stuck in a room with tomes he couldn't read and objects he didn't know how to use. He needed something or someone to explain the urges he had. Especially with Stephanie. He was afraid he was going to bleed her dry the next time he saw her. The urge for her blood was unnatural and revolting.

He stood ready to leave the odd cave. Why his father kept this place a secret, Ryan wasn't sure. He couldn't think of any reason. Ryan had no idea why his father tried so hard to keep him from magic. Ryan knew his magic was unstable, but he believed his father should've sought a way to tame his magic instead of barring him from it. Maybe he did have an idea but refused to admit it to be true. His father was a part of some cult. He probably might even be the leader too. As odd as it sounded Ryan was actually starting to believe it.

Being a part of a cult would explain the odd disappearances, late nights, and extended business trips. It might also even explain his death. And if it did, Ryan was afraid of what he might find out. Even more fearful of who his father actually was.

Ryan explored the entire cave. He believed that if his father was actually having cult meetings here, then there must be secret passages somewhere. When he met wall after wall, he concluded that there was no way out. No physical way at least. His father and the others must've used magic to get in and out. Unfortunately for him, his magic couldn't help. That's unless he wanted to destroy the entire cave. He believed there were things here he could use later. He had no idea how he was going to exit the cave, but that became the least of his worries when his right leg suddenly gave out.

He dropped to his left knee. Ryan's eyes fixed on something he couldn't believe was there. Misty pink dogs raced towards him from the other end of the cave.

_Found you_ , a female voice said in his head.

Found him? Who the hell was that? Immediately Ryan thought of the man his father told him about. But the voice he heard was feminine. Must be Eliot's evil witch. When the second dog leaped into Ryan's chest, his vision hazed and he stumbled back. The third dog sent him sprawling on his back. His vision hazed even more, even blinking out at one point.

Ryan made to stand, but his limbs wouldn't listen to him.

Don't fight it, just let go.

Ryan raged and argued with his limbs to obey him. When he thought it couldn't get any worse, another dog came over him. It seemed as if it was trying to lick his face, but its wispy pink tongue just came as wind. The dog then sunk into his body.

Ryan was once again enveloped by darkness. It blinked across his consciousness like a single eyelid. When his vision returned he felt his body standing, but he didn't remember telling it to. Darkness flickered again. Now he was approaching the wall with the seal. Darkness. His hand is in the middle of the seal, and he is whispering an incantation in a monotonous tone. Darkness. He's in his father's study. Darkness. He's at the mansion door. Darkness. He's opening the gate to the estate. When he stepped through the blackness came again.

This time it didn't go away.
Chapter Eight

The lure of flesh and human meat prevented the cannibals from seeing a shadow on the floor swivel in on itself and spiral upwards. The once faint shadow became a thick dark entity as it took form. The drapes of darkness wrapped themselves repeatedly until the solid, murky figure looked like a man. A man who knew that he should follow his instincts and kill all these monsters right now. But his master wouldn't like that.

Contrary to the beliefs of many — usually other sorcerers and hushed lore — his master, Eliot, wasn't a cruel man. Well unless you crossed him that is. So very few have tried to defy Eliot, they were wary of his power. Grayson often reminded them of what fate their misdeeds would bring. They also learned to fear Grayson himself. He wasn't the most powerful sorcerer. His power was nowhere as immense as his master's. However, he was in the company of Eliot — and Grayson's magic was more than enough for his underlings.

Grayson would usually be disgusted by the strong stench of dying flesh, but his projection had no sense of smell. Only a sense of anger and impatience. He ignored the creatures that crouched over crumpled forms as he walked down the dark aisle of the church. Some were bathed in darkness and others in the streetlight that filtered through the church's stained windows. Rotting bodies seemed to have been randomly thrown about the place.

Some were in piles, while others were strewn across the pews. The pale bald creatures were covered in blood and organs as they feasted. Grayson couldn't believe that of all the places available, the cannibals would make their nest here. He knew they were just empty and somewhat mindless creatures, but he still assumed they knew exactly what they were doing. Defiling a god that they didn't believe in because their creator was closer to earth.

Grayson spotted the leader of the cannibals at the altar. His anger grew when he saw it was gorging on a girl that seemed somewhat half alive. It wasn't the fact that it was eating a nearly dead girl that angered him. The problem was that these cannibals were explicitly told to watch their carb intake. Too many missing people and dead bodies will interest The Order — a group of enchanted Normals that sought to protect the realm from malevolent Magicals. If they found out that Grayson and Eliot were the reason for the deaths, they would come in full force. It wouldn't be like what happened with the Circle. That time it was just four. The Order spanned thousands, and their reach was extensive. Grayson was here to ensure that the situation wouldn't escalate to attract the attention of The Order. He even got the Normals to believe that a mass murderer killed all those people.

The leader he approached was nameless, just as all the others. Grayson believed such monsters didn't deserve to be christened. They weren't even worthy of his presence. But his presence was undoubtedly required. The monsters had gone off track and Grayson was the one sent to orient them. He stopped at the altar and watched the leader eat out the neck of the girl.

"Just _what_ are you doing?" Grayson asked.

The creature's eyes flicked up at Grayson, but his mouth was still feeding. It then released the girl, leaving her pale form to tumble to the ground. Her head lolled to the side and stared at Grayson. He ignored the corpse. There was a flash of uncertainty across the cannibal's face, but that quickly faded once it realized who was addressing it.

"Feeding."

"Is that what your master sent you to do?"

"We need to keep up our strength," the creature said. "We can't kill these witches if we're weak."

"You're meant to _capture_ them not _kill_ them." Anger laced Grayson's voice.

He wished Eliot had sent anything else but these stupid creatures. However, his master assured him that their tracking abilities and their violent hollow nature would get the job done. Even if the expense was a few innocent lives. But this one wanted to add Circleborns to the list and Grayson couldn't have that.

"My mistake. I meant to say capture. My tongue slipped."

Grayson grabbed the cannibal by the throat "Then I should tear it out so that it doesn't slip again."

A low growl sprouted from behind and around Grayson. The other cannibals had left their meals to investigate what was happening between the dark figure and their leader.

"If you have half the wits you think you have, go back to your rotten flesh bags before I tear all your throats out!"

The cannibals backed away. Not only because of the threat, but they recognized the voice that made it.

"Now you," Grayson loosened his grip on the creature's throat just enough for it to speak, "What's taking so long?"

"We lost track of them."

"How is that possible?" Grayson asked, "You have their scents. That's all you need. That's why we chose you to hunt them down."

"Not sure," It said. "We had them, at a graveyard. We made for them, but when our teeth sunk into their flesh, they just turned to wind."

"To wind?" Grayson said. "A trick then. It must have been clones of some sort, or projections. And you couldn't pick up the scent again?"

"We did, but it led to more fakes. Until we finally picked up their trail not too long ago."

"How close are you to getting them?"

"Very," he said, "we overheard them saying they were waiting on another Circleborn. When he comes, we'll take them all."

Grayson released his grip and patted the creature heavily on the cheek.

"You do have some sense after all," he said. "Act quickly. Eliot is growing impatient,"

Grayson's form dropped like ash and dissolved into the floor.
Chapter Nine

Stephanie tried to ignore skittles as she placed her hand on a giant oak tree in the public gardens. To passers-by she must seem like a lunatic — she felt like one too — but somehow it felt right. She knew it wasn't. Trying to see if you have some supernatural connection to your best friend's boyfriend wasn't exactly against girl code, but it could be a BFF nuke. Even though she knew that she couldn't stop herself. She was more fueled by curiosity instead of attraction.

Though the attraction came close.

What was she thinking? She can't just say she was attracted to Ryan. Cindy would go ballistic if she ever knew that she was thinking that. Yet, she was drawn to Ryan. She knew that a long time ago but never dwelled on it. It was just something she couldn't explain so she just ignored it. It wasn't an intense attraction. Not love at first sight. It felt more like a cosmic pull; a tug on her soul by his.

She met Ryan a long time ago. Years before Ryan met Cindy. He wouldn't remember though, but she did. She was eight when her mother took her to a playground one evening. She'd found her way to the swings while her mother had gone off to talk to a man who Cindy thought must've been an old friend. Their conversation seemed quite grim as the man spoke through clenched teeth. His eyes regularly scanned his surroundings and often fell on Stephanie.

Then she saw Ryan, a skinny boy with messy black hair sitting in the sandpit with his arms wrapped around his knees. He was staring down at the sand, and then he looked up. Their eyes met, and that's when she felt the cosmic pull for the first time. An unknown feeling overcame her, willing her to go to him. She would've gone too if her mother hadn't come to collect her as she stepped forward. The man that was talking to her mother picked up Ryan.

Since that day she felt some connection to him. One she couldn't explain. Its intensity dulled over the years until she saw him again with Cindy. It grew even more yesterday when she thought she heard him say her name. She was planting some flowers at the base of the tree when she heard him calling her from behind. She turned, but no-one was there even though she swore it was his voice. In addition to his voice, she felt his presence and though she stared at nothing her senses told her that he was standing there.

Since then the cosmic pull had grown stronger, and every cell in her body was seeking out his. That's the reason she was gripping the bark of the old oak tree. She was trying to recreate what happened yesterday. She's been doing that for about five minutes without results. Skittles rubbed against her leg again. She had a feeling that was his way of saying she looked stupid doing this so she should stop.

After a defeated sigh she dropped her hand from the tree and slumped at its base. Now she really felt stupid. She should know better than to think they had some kind of connection. Even if they did, nothing would come of it; Ryan was Cindy's boyfriend, and he had no interest in her. She didn't blame him. Looking at it from his angle —and other boys too— she would see a girl that seemed to love the company of trees and flowers instead of living souls. If she were him, she wouldn't pursue her either.

Skittles hopped into her lap, seeking her hand. She gave it a quick pet and instantly she felt a little relief. She petted the thing for a while until she felt her pocket vibrating and took out her phone. Cindy's photo was onscreen. Stephanie placed the phone to her ear.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey Steph, have you heard from Ryan?" she asked.

In a way.

"No. Is everything okay?"

Stephanie could hear a few complaints in the background. No doubt Cindy had called in the middle of her shift at Starbucks.

"Haven't heard from him or seen him since the fight," she said.

"Come on," a man in the background yelled, "I have to be at work in five!"

"Well you're already late so suck it up," Cindy retorted. "I know you think he's a jerk but I need to be sure he's okay. After I lied about you saying he was cheating on me I thought he would say something to you," he did say something, one word. "Or confronted you at the park or something. Have you seen him?"

"No," she said, "he knows better than to show up around here."

"I know you hate his guts." Not exactly. "But can you keep an eye out or call him. He's not answering my calls, and he doesn't know your number."

"This jerk doesn't deserve you," she said, "but I'll knock some sense into that thick skull once I find him."

"Thanks, Steph," Cindy said. "Have to get back to work, see you later."

"Later."

"About damn time—" The man in the background was cut off as Cindy hung up.

Stephanie concluded that she would call Ryan after she was done at the nursery. She should've been there five minutes ago but ended up trying to tree-call Ryan, which turned out to be a waste of time. She got up and rushed off to the nursery with Skittles at her heels.

As she stepped into the large greenhouse, she felt refreshed, like a longing had been fulfilled. She couldn't explain it, but she felt like a new and powerful being when she was in here. Like a queen in a kingdom. The array of plants were her subjects, and right now those subjects were begging for attention. She could feel them reaching out to her, and she could reach back to them. Sensing their wellbeing was easy. Years of helping her mother in the garden made that second nature. She had a feeling they were all well, but a dread tendril wormed its way from the back of the greenhouse and tapped her. She walked to the end of the room and opened the door to what she and Miss Walters, the curator, called the ICU. The minute she stepped into the room dread filled her being. She expected no other feeling. This was where they kept the dying plants.

Being in their presence left a bitter taste in her mouth and a tinge of ice in her skin. She spent more time working here than anywhere else in the greenhouse. Not because it was understaffed, but because her talents were needed. Walters took dying and sick plants from plant owners and brought them here for Stephanie to heal them through treatment. Usually, all the plants left healthy, but on a few occasions, some didn't. The ones that didn't recover needed something more, something Stephanie didn't have. Maybe her mother would've healed those ones if she was still alive.

"Stephanie you're here," The feminine voice came from the back of the ICU. "I didn't think you were coming today."

Walters greeted her with a relieved smile.

"Had to check on the transplants in the park."

And also tried to communicate with my best friend's bf by using an oak tree as a phone.

"Are they okay?"

"Yeah," Stephanie looked at Walters curiously. "What were you doing back there?"

It wasn't weird that Walters was here. The odd thing was that she seemed to be coming from nowhere. Or more like she was coming from somewhere else entirely. Stephanie knew that this section of the greenhouse had no other connections to any other building save the main.

"Your mom sent you this."

The woman held out a potted plant with leaves as red as blood. Stephanie hadn't seen anything like it before. She had no idea what it was, and that was rare because she knew almost every plant especially the ones her mother worked with.

"But mom's—"

"Dead, I know, that's what I told the guy who brought it here," she said. "But the place that delivered it said it was scheduled for delivery today."

That didn't make sense. Her mother died a year ago. There was nothing significant about today either.

"So you were gonna put it in the back?"

"I don't remember what I was doing around there." she said, "I just remember bringing the plant here. Touching it and then I hear you come in."

The woman put down the plant and left. Skittles hugged her feet as she went to the plant. Its beauty mesmerized her. She touched the plant and immediately the ICU fell away and was replaced by an open field. She had no idea where she was. She spun, and the only thing she saw was skittles and a tree with some odd looking red fruits.

_Eat one_ , a voice said.

The voice sounded familiar. It sounded like her mother's. She was tempted to eat the fruit. She picked one and put it in her mouth. The moment she did a rush of information overwhelmed her. Images flashed blazingly across her vision. Emotions filled her being with an unknown intensity. She saw oceans and rivers and felt as if she was immersed in them. She could feel their wetness and sense all the aquatic creatures that lived in the waters. The chill air of the mountains gave her goosebumps. The smell of frost and pine tickled her nose. A wolf seemed to glance in her direction, its gaze fixed on her, but she knew she wasn't physically there. Even so, her senses tried to betray her. She was now soaring over the savanna. A defiant screech escaped her beak as she surveyed the land below her. In this form, she was overcome by a sense of territorial sovereignty. She waded in the perspectives of all kinds of animals and felt everything they felt. When the sensation left her she realized something. She was their protector. No, it was more than that. She was them.

"Finally," a male voice said.

Stephanie turned but saw no one except for skittles staring at her.

"I've been waiting a long time for this." The words came from the cat's tiny mouth.
Chapter Ten

"You didn't need to do that," Alice said.

"Like Florence said, the Bloods are uncontrollable," Jase replied.

"And you think you can control him with that."

She pointed at the binding circle. Its dark tendrils hugged Ryan's limp form. But the embrace wasn't a warm one.

"That's a class C binding rune," Jase said. "It can hold him."

"Do you think this is right, Florence?" She turned. "This is exactly what I mean by treating him as the enemy. I was trying to avoid this. Are you guys using your brains or are they just souvenirs?"

"For all we know he could be working with Eliot," Florence said. "Have you ever wondered why the Bloods suddenly left? They broke their oath. That's not something you do on a whim."

"What? Do you really believe that?" Alice said. "It doesn't matter why they left the circle. Not now. Not ever, because they're still one of us."

"So was Eliot and look how loyal he turned out to be."

"Nature left too," Alice pointed out. "So are they also working with Eliot?"

Florence shrugged, "You know Nature's relationship to the Bloods and the Bloods to the Sacs."

"Like falling dominos," Jase said.

Her head whipped to him, eyes stabbing, "Just like you and Florence, right?"

Jase gave her an indifferent gaze. She looked back to Florence.

"Let him go, Florence."

Florence gave a slight shake of the head, "Can't take the risk."

"I said let him go, now. Do it," she stared him down. When he did not budge, she drew for her trump card. "By Circle's Flow."

She hated pulling rank on Florence, but he wasn't giving her much choice. Invoking Circle's Flow was a rare occasion because everyone knew that being compelled by a magical contract wasn't fun. It overrode your own will and forced you to submit. She had to use it now because Florence was blinded by his own rage and paranoia. Alice trusted her instincts. She just wanted Florence to trust her too.

"Let him go," Florence's eyes never left Alice.

Jase went up to the unconscious body and placed a hand on it. Immediately the dark tendrils retracted from Ryan's body.

It was time to wake Ryan up. Two of the nature spirits hopped out of Ryan one by one. After one more came out his eyes flung open. His dark blue eyes met her brown ones, and instantly there was a tug by the Circle Bond.

"What's going on?" The boy's head whipped around. "Where the hell am I?"

"It's okay, you're okay," Alice said stepping forward.

A knowing look came over the boy's face.

"You," he said, "I recognize your voice. You're the witch I heard in my head."

"Yes, that was me," she said. "I possessed you—"

The boy's eyes went wide, "Possessed me?"

Maybe that wasn't the best way to start the conversation.

"I needed to get you here."

"What do you want?" He asked.

"We need your help."

"Help? Why should I help you?" He said. "You kidnapped me. I don't even know who you are. You could be working for Eliot?"

"We're not, just—"

"Listen, blood scum," Florence stepped forward. "You should help us because you have to. It's your responsibility to the Circle."

"The Circle?"

"Don't act as if you don't know."

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"Is that what Eliot told you to say!"

"I don't even know Eliot!"

"Liar! Then why did you ask if we were working for him?"

Alice knew Florence was pressuring the boy too much. She also knew that saying anything about it now would cause Florence to believe the Bond's effects were already taking over. He would be right.

The boy said nothing.

"I'll settle this," Alice stooped to the boy.

She tapped her finger on the boy's forehead. Images rushed through her mind. Sounds echoed in her head. She scanned the entire canvas of the boy's memory. In a few seconds, she learned everything about him. Which meant she also discovered he had a girlfriend. She was relieved by that discovery. There was no memory of Eliot in his mind. The only time Eliot was mentioned was when Ryan's father warned him about the sorcerer. She also found something else. It wasn't the target of the search, but it was information they needed. She removed her finger, stood and turned to Florence.

"He's telling the truth," she said. "He doesn't know anything about Eliot. His father only told him about the man once. He doesn't even know about the Circle."

"Eliot could've erased his memory."

"He doesn't know anything."

"Then he's next to useless."

"His magic isn't," Jase said.

"So that's what you want? My magic?" Ryan looked at all three of them.

"No, we want you," Alice said. "We want your help." Ryan scanned their body, "Where's your mark?"

"What mark?" Florence asked.

"I think he's talking about the birthmark," Alice said.

She stepped forward, swept her hair to the left and brought her neck to the boy so he could inspect it. His breath sent tingles down her spine. She waited as he studied the Hexagram.

"Are you satisfied now?" Alice asked.

He nodded. She stepped back, eager to put some distance between them. She couldn't believe the pull was so intense. Her mother had warned her that the only reason Alice wasn't worried about the bond with Blood was that they were far apart. Now that they were so close it was hacking at her emotions without care.

"Like I was saying, we need your help."

"I might, but you must help me first."

"That's not how it works," Florence said.

"What do you want help with?" Alice asked.

"My father," he said. "I want to know what happened to him. Was he in this Circle thing?"

"Yes, he was."

"Is that why he died? Did being in this Circle kill him?"

Alice paused, "Not exactly."

"Yes," Florence said.

Why would you tell him that!

She knew she would have to overshadow that somehow. Even though eclipsing the fact that the group that needs you is the reason your father is dead would be a considerable feat.

"So why should I join you if it comes with a death sentence?"

"Firstly because it's your birthright," Florence got closer to him.

That wouldn't help, she knew he needed something more. Something concrete. A goal. Then it came to her.

"We're after the same person that killed your father, Ryan," she said. "We're going to punish him for what he did."

"Eliot?"

Alice nodded, "And we can only stop him if you help us."

"I don't even know what this Circle is. I don't even know what I am."

"You're a Circleborn," she said.

He looked at all three of them again, "Am I supposed to know what that means?"

"It means you're a member of Solomon's Circle," she said. "That's our official name. We're a special coven. Six families gifted with six different type of magic. Runic, Ancestral, Spirit, Nature, Blood and Sacrificial." She pointed at Ryan, trying to divert his eyes to relieve the unsettling feeling his gaze brought. "You're Blood. I'm Spirit. Florence is Ancestral, and Jase is Runic."

"So where's Sacrificial and Nature?"

Alice felt her chest tighten. She should've known this would come up. At that moment she wondered how Jase was feeling.

"Thalia," Jase said. "She was the Sacrificial of our circle generation. She was my girlfriend," he paused. "She's dead."

"Eliot killed her?"

"Yeah," he replied, "and he won't stop until he kills all of us."

"Why?"

"Power," Florence said, "he wants more power. There's an event that's important to Circleborns called The Cycling. When Circleborns of the new generation come of age, around eighteen, the current members pass on their magic to the new members of the Circle. But for The Cycling to be complete, all members of both generations must be alive, and the magic must be gifted at the same time. By killing his daughter and taking her magic, he disrupted The Cycling process."

"More like shattered it," Jase said. "Now we don't have access to our full power."

"He knows we're the only ones that can stop him," Alice said. "So by killing us, he wins in more ways than one."

"He killed his own _daughter_?" Ryan's face twisted in horror. The shock shone in his eyes. "And you really think we can stop him?"

"If we have you and Nature with us."

"So who's Nature?"

"We were hoping you could tell us?" Jase said.

"Me? How would I know?"

This is the part she knew would emboss the reality of things. The reality she often told Florence would never change anything. The reality that she wanted to run from.

"The Circle has a special structure. A hierarchy." Alice said, "And this hierarchy is based on two things. The first being the level of the magic's power versus the severity of the conditionals that come with it. The second is the bonds of the Magic."

"Conditionals?"

"All magic comes at a price. For some, the price is many things. For others, it's just a few but at a higher cost."

"Okay, so what does this have to do with me knowing Nature?"

"To combat the conditionals bonds were formed. Most of the bonds are dualities — they work in groups of two, but only one is a trinity — a group of three," she said, "And that's ours."

"Ours?"

"Me, you, and nature," Alice said. "The bonds connect us. Whether it is a duality or trinity, the Circle Bond keeps us connected by infinitely attracting us to each other."

"So I'm attracted to Nature. That's how you'll find her," he said, Alice saw the boy pause for a moment, obviously thinking. "Cindy, my girlfriend, it must be her."

"No, not Cindy," she said. "It's Stephanie."

"How do you even know them?"

"I went through your mind, your memories. Invasion of privacy, I know, but I had to dig deep. I found the connection and knew it was her."

"That's kind of an understatement. But I'm not attracted to her," he said. "I'm with her best friend."

"You're just like Alice," Florence said. "The more you deny it, the worse it gets for the Circle."

Alice glared at him, "The attraction doesn't have to be romantic."

"Pfft." Florence scratched his chin. "Sure. Classify it as whatever you guys want. The point is, all Circleborns are in danger, and we need each other, not just to stay alive, but also to stop Eliot."

"So we have to get Stephanie," Ryan said.

"Right."

A chill then ran through Alice's body. Corrupt energy emanated from the other side of the door.

"Jase!" She shouted.

But it was too late. The door flew open, knocked out Jase and pitched Ryan forward.

Florence ran to Jase's unconscious body, but he never made it. A pale tattooed man batted Florence away, scooped up Jase, and took off.
Chapter Eleven

Ryan was starting to trust these people—actually, just the evil witch who seemed not so evil after all— but when he saw that they had skeletons they failed to mention his trust diminished. Peacefully greeting him was the smarter approach to get him on their side and telling him that some crazed gang of bald men were after them should have been number one on their to-do list. But instead, they possessed him and then dragged him in the middle of some kind of feud. Not the best recruitment strategy he had ever seen.

Another one of the tattooed men rushed inside, grabbed Ryan by the throat and slammed him into the wall. Ryan punched the man in the face, and the attack carried more power than he thought it would. The man spun and fell. Ryan then felt blood filling his mouth and the burning sensation of his afflicted tongue. He must've accidentally bit it when the door hit him. Another man came at Ryan, a lot calmer than the first. He fixed Ryan to the spot with his unusual black eyes. Ryan felt like he was sinking into them. He tried to punch the man.

"Stop," The man said.

Ryan's hand froze. He tried to will it to move, but a small voice in his head countered it, continuously saying "stop."

"You can't move."

Ryan's limbs were paralyzed, not even his eyelids blinked. He glimpsed the men who were carrying Alice in their hands. Once they passed in front of him, his gaze was unable to follow.

At first, Ryan thought she was dead but then he came to the conclusion they must've knocked her out. How they even got to her considering she had strong magic — he knew it was strong because he felt it, and she must have experience too — made no sense to him.

"Relax."

Ryan felt a sharp pain as he hit the ground. The muscles in his legs, core, and arms obeyed the man. The man was out of view now, and all Ryan could see were men passing him with the limp bodies of Jase and Florence in their hands.

"Now sleep."

Ryan's world dimmed.

"Wake."

The command rung crystal through Ryan's mind. Usually, he wouldn't wake so easily but the word controlled every cell in his body. His eyeballs felt dry from not blinking.

"About time."

It was a man who was speaking, but Ryan didn't see who. He couldn't move his head, so his eyes were stuck on Alice who sat across from him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jase on his left and Florence on his right. They were all kneeling in a circle that resembled the runes Jase used. Ryan thought he was in some kind of grand hall. A man then appeared in front of him dressed in a dark suit. His eyes were gray and his hair just a shade darker.

"I count four," the man said, "where's the other one?"

"Haven't caught him yet," another man replied. He was out of sight.

Ryan knew they were talking about Stephanie, but it seemed they didn't even know she was a girl. They might not know much about her then. That was good. Ryan didn't know why but he needed Stephanie to be safe.

"Eliot is a patient man. He needs to be when dealing with simpletons like you. But it doesn't mean his patience won't wear thin," the first man replied, cocking his head at Ryan, "and when he does, you'll be quite thin yourself."

"We're trying to locate him."

The man stepped forward to Ryan, curiosity glinting in his grey eyes.

"Don't try, do. Or you'll be trying to put your bones back together," he said. "And just who are you?"

_Don't answer him, Ryan_ , a familiar feminine voice said in his head.

He believed it was the girl, Alice, and even though he didn't know her much, he was now sure that she had good intentions. But the man in front of Ryan had a different vibe. Ryan didn't respond. Instead, he contemplated the thought of biting his tongue again. The first nip had left his tongue throbbing in pain, and he knew the second would not be any gentler. Especially if he was to draw on more power this time. And he knew he needed more power because the amulet actively suppressed his magic. This was the first time he prayed for the amulet to disappear. Typically, Ryan was against relying on his magic, especially without the amulet, but the amulet was an obstacle right now. He knew that he needed more power to get both he and the others out of here. Wherever _here_ was. Even if he couldn't control it entirely.

"Answer me, boy."

_Don't_ , Alice said.

I heard you the first time, Ryan replied, how are you even talking to me?

The spirit I possessed you with has linked my mind to yours. As long as it's there, I can hear your thoughts and send you mine.

I didn't know I was so special.

There was a mental scoff, It's a standard procedure for everyone in the Circle. I'm using it to talk to Jase right now.

About what?

The Siphs didn't compel him. He was already knocked out before they took him.

So he can move.

Right, he's gonna get us out of this. Just sit tight.

So this is Eliot?

No, she said, not by a long shot. It's his right hand, Grayson. Trust me, when Eliot comes, you'll know it's him.

"I know the other three and their magic. What's yours?"

By the way, Ryan said mentally, can't you use yours?

No, none of us can, she said, some binding spell.

"Either, you talk, or I give you a proper reason not to."

Ryan's mouth clamped together. The man's hand found itself around Ryan's throat and lifted the boy almost effortlessly, bringing them eye to eye. Ryan knew Grayson could crush his neck if he wanted to. Grayson probably would have done it, but something stopped him. Something powerful.

The weight of the person's presence crumpled Ryan into a marble. That feeling made him understand what the girl meant. This presence exceeded Grayson's by far. It struck awe and fear into him. Ryan's heart raced, his muscled tensed and his breaths came shallow. His body clearly understood the danger. Eliot had entered the room.

"Gentle," his voice carried every ounce of authority Ryan expected.

Grayson's hand loosened and then lowered Ryan with a tenderness he wouldn't have guessed Grayson had.

"Besides," Eliot said as he made his way to the middle of them, "I know exactly what his magic is." Ryan saw the hunger in the man's eyes, "I've been waiting a long time for you, Blood." The man quickly scanned the circle, "Haven't got Nature yet have you?" he said to Grayson, "No matter, I'm sure Blood can tell us exactly where she is. They've always been close after all."

"The boy's either stubborn or trying to be loyal," Grayson said. "He refuses to answer me."

Eliot smiled, "You just have to be a little persuasive."

Jase is almost ready, Alice said.

He needs to hurry.

Eliot towered over Ryan and then stooped, so their eyes were level. Ryan wished he could curl away from Eliot but his body was paralyzed, and when Eliot grasped Ryan's head, he felt different. Eliot's presence was plainly distinct in his own mind. There was another pressure there as well. One that was working against Eliot. It was Alice trying to force the man out.

Eliot turned his head to the girl.

"Admirable effort," he said. The pressure doubled. Ryan felt like his head was swelling. "but not good enough."

Before his mind exploded from the competing forces, the sensation faded. Ryan couldn't detect Alice's presence anymore. Eliot pushed her out completely. Now the man was free to roam Ryan's mind. The first memory Ryan felt him pull was the fight between him and Cindy. Then he pulled up Stephanie and when Ryan thought it couldn't get worse the man retrieved the plan Alice was making.

Eliot's head spun to Jase. The moment he moved, Jase lunged at Alice and caught on to her. They rolled out of the rune and disappeared.

Something pulled Ryan back and yanked him out of the rune. Now that there was nothing to bind his power he bit into his tongue. The magic exploded inside him, and he was ready to let it loose, but Alice planned to run not fight. So instead of blasting away Eliot with his magic, he waited for Jase to grab his shoulder. Then he vanished.
Chapter Twelve

"Skittles?"

Stephanie looked at the cat confused.

"I'd rather you call me Damon from now on."

She thought she had imagined hearing the animal speak the first time around, a slight delusion after being transported to another realm, but skittles—Damon, rather— just proved her wrong. The shock of hearing him speak the first time had thrown her from the mysterious realm back to the ICU of the greenhouse. Hearing him talk again made her bolt up from the ground. She stumbled back, and when she threw her hand behind her to steady herself, she knocked over a few plants.

"Calm down," Damon said approaching her. The girl put more distance between them. "This is nothing new to you."

Of course it was! Talking cats weren't a norm for her.

"Trust me," he said, "you've known about this all along. Just try to remember."

What should she try to remember? That Skittles has been talking to her all her life? That wasn't something someone would forget in the first place.

"Do as I say," he said. "Relax and think."

She felt compelled to follow his instructions. She relaxed and to her surprise, it was a lot easier than she thought. Her eyelids closed as she began to dig into her memory.

"Now remember." His voice hypnotized her.

She then started to remember.

She's eight again. She's tiptoeing down the hall and poking her head into each room she passes. Soon she remembers that she's playing a game. She should be looking for someone. The game is hide and seek then. She finally finds him when she searches her mother's room. The yellow eyes glowing in the darkness under the bed tells her that he sees her too. He springs from under the bed and runs for the door the moment she advances. But she blocks the doorway, and as he tries to slide by her, she scoops him up into her hands. The cat hisses.

"Put me down, child," the cat complains.

"You're not playing fair, Damon," she says.

Footsteps echo in the hall, and an older feminine voice speaks, "What did he do now Steph?"

Stephanie turns to see her mother.

"Damon promised to tell me another story if I gave him the catnip you hid."

"Did you Damon?"

The cat looked away, "I might have given her the incentive."

"You need to start sticking to your promises," her mother says. "Tell her the story."

The cat hissed again, "Fine. Come, child."

He hopped out of her hand and down the hall into her room.

The memory ended there. Stephanie opened her eyes and looked at the cat in front of her in a new light.

"You're my familiar..." she said with little confidence in her words.

"Yes."

"Then that means I'm a..."

"Witch."

The word knocked her hard.

"I know it's a lot to take in," he said, "but your mother would be better at explaining all this."

"My mother?" Stephanie was confused. "She's dead. How could she explain anything?"

The cat tilted its head to the red plant. She turned to the weird herb beside her.

"She's in there?"

The cat nodded, "Along with everything you need for now. She's waiting for you."

Hesitantly, Stephanie extended a finger to the red leaf and the moment she touched it she got sucked in. She was in the same world as before but this time in front of the tree stood a woman. She had long brown hair and deep green eyes. The woman smiled, and Stephanie ran to embrace her.

"Mom."

"Hey, sweetie."

"I miss you so much, mom."

"I miss you too, baby."

"How are you even here right now?" Stephanie asked.

"I left a portion of my consciousness in this plant. So that I could speak with you when the time was right. Now is that time."

"How did you get that plant to me? What's going on?"

"I instructed my friend's Estate Manager to send you this plant when particular circumstances arose. The fact that you're here means that, unfortunately, you are in danger," she said. "When you were a child, I sealed your memories of your magical life in hopes of protecting you from him. Since I knew that I might not be there to protect you."

"Why am I in danger?"

"A sorcerer named Eliot," she continued. "He's coming after you. He wants your magic, and you need to be ready to defend yourself. I thought that by repressing your memory you wouldn't be able to use your magic and so he wouldn't find you. But yet somehow he has. Today is special because today is the day that you learn who you truly are and to protect yourself, the Circle, and the world you must become the protector of life itself."

"How will I do that? I don't even know how to use my magic."

The woman shook her head.

"You do," she said, "you've always known. You just need to remember."

"How am I going to remember?"

The woman turned and picked a fruit from the tree. She then gave it to Stephanie.

"Are you serious?"

"A bit on the nose, I know, but just look past that for now," she said. "It was the easiest way to store the knowledge with magic."

Stephanie turned the fruit in her hand. An intense craving filled her. She wasn't sure if it was because of her wild curiosity or if the fruit was designed to be that way.

"Once you eat this you'll understand everything that's going on," her mother said, "and once you eat that," she pointed to a fruit on a higher branch, "you will have full knowledge and control over your basic abilities."

"What about the others?" Stephanie saw about five others ascending up the tree.

"Not yet," her mother replied. "Damon will let you know when you're ready to handle those."

"You said I knew all this before. I should be able to handle it all the same."

"Your magic is the force of nature itself. It's more burden than you think," she said. "And you didn't learn how to handle those. You were too young."

"And I'm older now. I'm ready now, right?"

"You're only older in body, not spirit nor magic," she said. "If you try to consume those now, it will end up killing you."

Stephanie fell silent. Living trumped satisfying her curiosity.

"Absorb this one quickly. The others are waiting for you, and I don't think they have much time."

"What others?"

"Eat, and you'll know."

Stephanie eyed the fruit cautiously and then bit into it. In the bite, she saw the moment her mother first told her she was a witch. In another bite, she's being told that she and her mother are part of a coven called Solomon's Circle. She continued taking bites that fed her information about the Circle and its history. The final bite told her the members of her generation of the circle. Two other girls named Alice and Thalia and three boys named Florence, Jase, and Ryan. The last name caught her off guard. She looked at her mother in disbelief.

"This can't be right," she said. "I know one of them, Ryan. He can't be a sorcerer."

"He is," she said pointing to another fruit on the tree. "Now the next one."

Stephanie almost jumped at the thing. She stuffed it into her mouth and gleaned the knowledge that was streaming into her.
Chapter Thirteen

Alice was about to sigh in relief, but the sigh couldn't escape. Her throat tightened, and her heart froze. She stared at the giant black iron wrought gate flanked by stone pillars. A very familiar black gate.

"What the hell Jase?" she said as her head turned to him.

It seemed the boy didn't register what she was talking about. Either he was trying to feign ignorance, or he really didn't know what he had just done. She believed the former.

"Jase, I can't believe you would do this. Can't you just think clearly for once?"

She saw the comprehension leaking into his face slowly. Another emotion came too, but she couldn't make it out or, actually didn't want to. She was too angry.

"I didn't do this," he protested. "It wasn't me."

"Then who else could it be!" She yelled. "You want to get revenge? Fine, go on. Just don't drag us all to the grave with you."

"What are you guys talking about?" Ryan asked, "We escaped right?"

"No we didn't escape," she said, "in fact, we're in Eliot's front yard."

"Jase did you really—" Florence began.

"No man I swear," Jase replied quickly. "I didn't like Alice's plan, but that doesn't mean I'd risk your lives just to get revenge."

"Then why the hell are we not miles away from Eliot right now?" Ryan asked.

Florence observed everything thoughtfully. "It wasn't Jase's fault. There's a barrier around here. Eliot's blocking us from leaving."

Alice saw the concern in his eyes. An unsettling chill ran through her spine. She knew Florence had powerful magic and if he used it the way his father wanted him to things would've been very different for the new circle generation. There would be no more trinity. But she also knew that his magic had a major weakness. He needed to be on the burial grounds of his ancestors for him to use magic. He had to channel their magic from their consecrated remains and then use it as his own. No access to ancestors meant no magic. When you're on the front lawn of a madman that's trying to kill you, you can't take that factor lightly.

"So we're trapped. What are we going to do?" Ryan said. "We can't just stay here. They know about Stephanie. They're going to kill her."

"You're the all-powerful Blood why don't you do something?" Florence said.

"Florence," Alice warned.

"You're all they talk about in the Circle," Florence said. "The second in line to the Sacs. The one we're meant to fear."

"Florence." Alice pleaded again.

"And yeah, we do fear you. Not because you're strong but because you're monsters," Florence said. "wild, uncontrollable animals—"

"Stop Florence!"

"Your father deserved to be put down like a dog."

Ryan lunged at Florence. The boy punched him straight into the ground. But that was the only shot he ever got. Florence was far larger than him and was already on top of Ryan. Florence relentlessly pummeled his fist into Ryan's torso. Before he could do any real damage, Florence's body was ripped from Ryan's. He stared at Alice knowing she was the one who sent him flying.

"Enough Florence," Alice said, "we shouldn't be fighting each other right now."

Florence got to his feet.

"Ever since we came close to him you've been taking his side on everything."

"That's because you're forcing me to!"

"Is that the lie you tell yourself?" He asked as if truly seeking an answer. "You know that's not the reason."

She really didn't want him to bring that up now. A pang of guilt radiated through her.

"Listen, ragging on Ryan won't help. He can't get us out of here."

"Why the hell not?"

She stared at Ryan, wondering if she should reveal what she learned. A secret Ryan tried to hide in the farthest corner of his mind. A secret he tried to bury deep when she was scanning his memory.

"Because—" she began.

"I don't know how to use my magic," Ryan said.

Florence's face twisted in confusion and anger. Jase sighed, turned away, and ran his hand through his hair.

"What do you mean you don't know how?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters." Florence said, "It matters a goddamn lot because here come the Siphs ready to beat us shitless and drag us back to Eliot. And only two of us have useable magic. When Grayson and Eliot get here, two won't be enough. We might as well count ourselves dead right now."

"I might not know how to use it, but that doesn't mean I can't help."

"You don't get it," Florence said. "We were counting on you and Nature to help us take down Eliot. Both of you have the least limitations. But if you don't know how to use your magic you're hopeless. If Nature turns out just like you, I'm gonna lose it."

The news broke everyone's resolve.

"If we're going to get out of this alive there's another option," he said. "Power share."

"What?" Ryan asked, "you're gonna take my magic?"

"Not exactly. Jase," Florence called, "I'm just going to access some of it. It's like channeling."

Jase held Florence's arm. A second later a rune was worming across it. He made to do the same with Ryan, but the boy took a step back.

Florence grabbed him, "Either we do this or we all die."

The boy flashed an uncertain look at Alice. Against her better judgment, Alice nodded, urging the boy on. Ryan hesitantly held out his arm to Jase. The moment Jase finished inscribing the rune she saw Ryan wince and Florence had a shrewd smile on his face. She knew that once he had a taste of Ryan's power he would want more. That meant she had to keep an eye on him from now on.

The first of the Siphs came out of nowhere. And just as fast as the first one came about a dozen more followed. It seemed they were just popping into existence. Florence started the assault as he pumped blueish-white, misty energy from his fists that hurtled through the form of the first Siph.

The creature collapsed as the energy passed through it. Florence hurled more at the oncoming horde, and Siphs started dropping like flies. Whatever Siphs Florence missed, Jase took care of. Runes snaked up his arm, and from the looks of it, Alice was sure they were enhancing his strength.

Two spirits swirled into existence on either side of her. Both had the misty grey bodies of all nature spirits, but their eyes were what separated them. One of them had green eyes while the other had slate grey ones. The spirits then slipped into her body, and she was ready to fight.

"Jase, try to break down that containment field. I'll take your place," Alice said.

Jase stepped back, went to the extremities of the barrier and inscribed stacks of runes along its surface.

Alice ran straight into the oncoming horde of Siphs. At her command, a single line of spikes tore through the battlefield and maimed the Siphs. She guided the path through the entire battlefield until it went beyond her reach. The only one that wasn't in the fight was Ryan. She regretted that he got thrust into a world he knew nothing about and asked to use something he always believed was a curse. Jase and Florence weren't exactly making him feel safe either. Given that Florence was using the boy's magic he should be protecting Ryan. Instead, Florence was busy relishing Ryan's power.

"There must be something you learned to do." She said as she spiked a Siph heading for him.

He appeared to be searching his mind.

"Just one but it's basically useless."

"Well at least try."

He then began scanning the ground and then knelt to a Siph. His hand traced the creature's body. A minute later it wasn't Ryan who stood but instead a Siph. The boy had turned himself into one of the creatures.

"Thought you said it was useless? Morphing's not that useless."

"It's not morphing," he said, "it's an illusion."

He just shattered what little hope she had for him.

"A bit of use still, I guess," she said, trying to sound positive.

She knew she had to protect him now. Even though every inch closer to him caused the Bonds to tug harder at her soul. She had to stay close for his sake.

Florence needed to keep the horde at bay while Jase worked on the barrier. Alice was the only thing between the horde and Florence's current source of power. She just hoped Jase would create an opening before Eliot showed up. A familiar wave of energy brushed her, and at that point, she knew it was too late.

Eliot's first move, once he appeared on the battlefield, was to dispose of the knight that was slaying his pawns. Florence flew to her as a wave of air slapped him. She conjured her own cushion of air to catch Florence and stop him from crashing into the earth.

"Thanks," he said as he slid to the ground and then turned his attention to Jase. "What's the progress Jase?" He never took his eyes off Eliot which proved vital when Eliot hurled a fireball at him.

A wall of earth sprung up and blocked the fireball. Alice sent out three lines of spikes at Eliot. They tore through the Siphs, but when they came within a foot of Eliot, they fizzled away to nothing.

"Not even close," Jase reported.

"You guys must be able to do something," Ryan said. "I mean you've been doing stuff like this since you were kids right. You know stuff."

"We do," Florence said, "but this guy is on a whole different level."

"Yet you were planning to fight him."

"Yeah because we _thought_ you would be of some help and we would have Nature to back us up," Florence said. "But you're just dead weight."

"You're blaming me for this?"

"Damn right!" He said. "You Bloods weren't there when Eliot attacked. You weren't there to stop him. And now if _we_ don't stop him, he'll be a whole lot more than just the Circle's problem!"

"Look, I don't know why my father left the Circle, but he must've had a good reason."

"Well, it doesn't matter now what that reason is. It's going to be the reason we get killed."

The shield cracked, and a bolt of electricity went straight for Florence. He didn't see it coming, but even if he did, he wouldn't have been able to combat it. Alice saw it, however, and she knew exactly how to handle it. The attack fried every cell in her body when she absorbed it. She fell to the ground in a spasm. The pain slowly passed. She was already transferring the energy into a different form so that it could leave her body. Florence punched more balls of energy, but Eliot batted them away with a bit too much ease.

"I need more power!" He barked at Ryan.

"I can't get any more from my blood."

"Then take someone's."

Alice didn't know where Ryan got the blood from, but she saw the satisfied smile on Florence's face as more power rushed into him. It was strong. Maybe even strong enough to stun Eliot so they could escape. She rose to her feet slowly as the energy finally left her. She was a bit too disoriented to do anything, and she had to release the spirits to transpose the lightning energy.

Florence made slow steps as he released balls of fire. But on the fifth step, he just collapsed. Alice watched worriedly as he hit the ground. In two steps she was at his side, examining him. She didn't see Eliot attack him and Florence wasn't one known for fainting. She then saw Ryan holding the amulet in his hand. The relic was split in half.

That's when Eliot released his volley of attacks. Alice raised a shield, but it soon broke under pressure. A ball of air knocked her off her feet. She heard Jase grunt as one slammed into him too. Eliot advanced forward with a devious smile. He knew he had won.

A flash of blue caught the corner of her eye, and she saw that it was some kind of warrior charging forward. Eliot made short work of him. But then more came, slaying Siphs and taking their chances at Eliot. A circle of them appeared around her. In the middle of that circle was a woman also dressed in blue. Alice noted the crest on her chest. It was someone from The Order. But that didn't make sense. The Order had no reason being there. It wasn't that they were enemies with the Circle; they had actually been allies until a year ago. But their ties had been cut for reasons above her head. The woman was staring intently behind her. Alice trailed the woman's gaze to Ryan. The look on his face seemed to indicate he knew her. It also told Alice he didn't know she was going to be here.

"Annabeth?" Ryan said.

Then everything was showered in white.
Chapter Fourteen

Ryan emerged on the upper side of his estate with anger boiling inside him. He wasn't sure which was worse; Jase's scowl as he held Florence in his arms or the fact that they were just saved by Hawthorne. He knew it sounded ungrateful, but the sting of her betrayal made her good deed fade into the background. To make matters worse, she didn't even explain herself to him now that they were safe at the manor. She just strode off with a couple of her subordinates. Before the darkness swallowed her, he followed. He needed answers. He needed an explanation.

A hand grabbed him and turned him around.

"Ryan where are we?" It was Alice.

As Ryan looked at the girl, he tried to hide the anger on his face, but it was barely masked.

"At my estate."

He tried to go after Hawthorne, but the grip on his hand tightened. He found himself face to face with the girl again. The girl was pretty determined, but right now he wasn't really interested in what she had to say. His ears only sought Hawthorne.

"You okay?"

Ryan tore from her grip.

"Despite being nearly killed I'm fine."

He turned.

"At least tell us where we can put Florence."

"Follow me," He yelled back as he upped his pace to catch up to Hawthorne.

He found her inside the house talking to two men. When their eyes met, she dismissed the men. Her calmness angered him even more. And in his anger, he craved for something more than answers. He craved blood. The encounter with Eliot had drained him. Tired him even. He had no idea channeling would be so exhausting. When he got his answers from her, he'll take her blood too.

"Why?" he said, the word came out in a growl.

"Why what?" she asked, "Why did I save your life?"

"Why didn't you tell me you knew about the Circle, about Eliot, about me?" he said. "Why didn't you tell me about who you really were? Whatever it is that you are."

"You weren't ready."

"I wasn't ready?" he said. "My life is on the line, and I already knew about my magic. That's not enough requirements for you?"

"Knowing about your magic isn't enough. You needed to also know how to control it," she said. "We were taking steps to ensure that."

"We who?"

"Your father and I."

"My father? So he knows what you are and he told you about my magic."

"What I am is a guardian of the realm. Just like the Circle was supposed to be."

"What guardian?"

"A group called The Order of Guardians," she said.

Ryan knew that organization. Everyone in Lile knew it. They were an organization of Normals who protected other Normals from Magicals and monsters. They're usually outfitted with enchanted weapons and armor.

"Then why are you protecting me? I'm not a Normal."

"Your father commissioned us to protect you," she said. "He told The Order about his suspicions of Eliot. He asked them for their permission to use us."

"So now what? We stay here until Eliot comes at us again? Is it even safe here?"

"It was. But now that the others are here the cloak that's put on the estate won't be able to mask the magic for long. There's too much. They'll have to leave."

"No, no way. They're staying."

"Every minute they stay here is the less time you have."

"They are a part of the Circle. They're the only thing left of the Circle. You can't just kick them out."

"And they are also compromising our objective."

"Your objective, not mine."

The woman gave him a confused look. It then warped to a frown as she realized his thoughts.

"You can't take on Eliot," she said. "He'll kill you. All of you. The Order is preparing to launch against him soon. They'll deal with him."

"He killed my father Annie, they told me." Ryan said, "I'm going to drain every last drop of blood in his body. Besides, he's the Circle's problem, not The Order's." His gaze narrowed at her. "They stay until we figure out how to kill Eliot. Or I go with them when you kick them out."

They had a stare off for a while.

"Fine," Hawthorne gave in. "They stay until the preparations made for us to leave are finalized."

"Leave?"

"In an event like this your father made plans for us to extract you to a safer place," she said. "Those plans are being executed right now."

"To a different part of the country."

"No outside of the country. We're leaving Lile."

Ryan stared at her. He had no idea this could be so extreme, or that his father planned for it all.

"Fine but they come too."

The woman shook her head, "That _definitely_ can't happen."

"It has to. I won't leave without them."

"You don't have a choice with this one. They can't come. So much magic moving at once will draw Eliot's attention, and he'll come for you again."

Ryan spun to walk away.

"But where we're going we might find the one thing that can defeat Eliot."

Ryan made a half turn.

"Really," he said, "more lies?"

"No lies. Your father has been working on something there," she said. "Those long business trips he told you about were the times he spent searching for something over there. He believed that with the information he gathered, he would be able to find the object that would stop Eliot."

"You're telling the truth?"

"I'm done lying to you. No need for it anymore."

He searched the woman's face for any sign of deceit. He found none.

"Okay," he said, heading to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"To find Stephanie. They're after her too."

"You can't."

Ryan spun. His eyes stabbed her.

"What? They're going to take her and probably kill her when they're done," he said. "Don't you care about that? Is it part of your job to be heartless too? If we leave her out there, she's going to die!"

"Believe me it's not what I want, but you can't leave."

"Well then try to stop me." He walked off.

"I won't need to," she said. "I told you before. Your father had plans. A part of that plan is to seal off the estate with a barrier. Nothing gets in or out after it drops. It doesn't lift until sunrise."

"Can't you at least send some of your men to get her?"

"I already have."

Ryan looked at her in surprise, "Really?"

"Once they have her she'll be extracted to the same location we're going," Hawthorne said. "I told you, your father had plans put in place. He didn't make them alone. Stephanie's mother was involved too." She took a step closer to him, her hand clutching his face. "They entrusted their plans to me. Now I want you to trust that I will execute those plans smoothly. Trust me to keep you safe."

"Okay," he said. "I trust you."

She brought his face up to hers and kissed his forehead.

"Good," she pulled away. "Stay here. The house is under tight guard. I have other agents on the estate too. I'm going to analyze that cloak to see how long it'll last now that your friends are here."

"Wait." She turned at his request. "I need a favor. Now that I know what you are and what you can do, I think you can help." He paused for a while, unsure of how to say it. There was no smooth way to get it across so he just blurted it out in one breath. "I hurt someone and I need help finding her."

Stunned, Annabeth came closer, "You hurt someone?"

Ryan looked away, "It's more than one. Actually two people. My magic... It was an accident. I swear." The images flashed in his mind as he spoke. "I couldn't stop it. And... and..."

Annabeth held him, "I'll help you find them. You'll get to the chance to make it right. Once this is all over, we handle that, okay?"

Ryan nodded. He really hoped he could.

Hawthorne left, and Ryan went upstairs. The anxiety of not knowing whether Stephanie was still alive pushed him to call her phone. Before he dialed her number, he saw twenty missed calls from Cindy. He figured the girl must be worried about him. But worried was an understatement. The girl was probably throwing a fit. He would call her after he made sure Stephanie was ok.

He dialed the girl's number, but it rang out to voicemail. He tried again. Same outcome. Calling three more times didn't change anything either. The unease grew. Not even Hawthorne's promise comforted him. For all he knew they might've gotten to her too late. Even so, it was the last thing he could hope for.

He searched the rooms for the others. He found them in the last unoccupied room on the second floor. Alice came in the hallway. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"I was coming to find you," she said.

"Well here I am," he said, "and you guys made yourself at home." He noted as he saw Florence on the bed. Jase stood over him.

"I know how you feel right now," she said, "about your guardian."

"You heard us downstairs."

"No, I sensed it," she said, seeming a bit uncomfortable. "It's an ability that comes with my magic."

"Reading minds, sensing stuff," he said, "so you're basically psychic."

"In a sense," she said. "But you must understand that she was trying to keep you safe."

Ryan gave a half laugh, "You know it's ironic, you're taking her side when she wants to kick you out."

"She's going to what?"

"You can't stay," he said, the girl made to protest, but he stopped her. "I won't be here for long either. We're going to some safer place, she says. And you guys can't come."

"But we're supposed to stay together," she said. "How else are we going to take down Eliot?"

"I know, I know. We _are_ going to stay together. We'll figure something out."

The girl smiled. He found himself doing the same despite his mood.

"In the meantime, I need you to tell me more about the Circle."

"Sure."

"Ryan," Hawthorne yelled from downstairs.

"Yeah," He yelled back.

"Get down here."

"I'll be right back. Don't move."

The girl nodded. Ryan went downstairs, not the least bit enthused about talking to Hawthorne. That's unless she had brought back Stephanie. His heart rate doubled at the thought. He saw Hawthorne in the doorway.

"Someone's here for you."

As Ryan approached the door, the woman moved away slowly. Ryan readied himself to see the stubborn brunette that must be confused as hell right now. He had no idea what he would say to her or how he was going to explain her situation. She, on the other hand, would likely start off with something witty and insulting. Ryan wouldn't mind that right now. He was just glad that she was safe.

Ryan stepped to the threshold to see Stephanie. But the messed up makeup and blonde hair told him this girl wasn't Stephanie. Ryan's heart stopped as he stared at an angry, confused, and worried Cindy. A part of him wanted to chase the girl off. Another part wanted to run back upstairs. Neither wanted her here because he knew she wouldn't be safe. Not only because Eliot could be seconds from attacking but also because of the hunger inside him. He knew if that girl ever set foot inside the house he would drain her.

She crossed the threshold and stood nose to nose with him.
Chapter Fifteen

"Cindy you shouldn't—"

"Shouldn't what? Check up on my boyfriend when I haven't heard from him all day?"

Cindy was ready to make a scene. She probably even played it out in her head a thousand times over on her way here. He knew he couldn't stop her. The best thing he could do was stop the guardians that accompanied her to the door from witnessing the horrors of an emo girl. He ushered her inside, pushing her forward by the small of her back. She shrugged him off and showed him she could walk on her own. That was the last thing the guardians saw before Ryan pulled the curtains on the scene.

"Cindy you really—"

"I called about a hundred times Ryan."

"I've been a bit busy."

"Busy with what, Ryan? What's so important that you couldn't take my calls?"

Probably trying to escape a mad, evil sorcerer. It might not be on everyone's worst-day-ever list, but it just soared to number one on his.

"Stuff."

"Stuff??" The girl's eyes widened, "Really, Ryan, stuff?"

Ryan walked away. He couldn't deal with this. Not now. Not when he was being hunted by Eliot and tormented by his urge to drain her. A headache took him, probably due to his unnatural hunger. He headed to the kitchen and saw Hawthorne going the opposite way.

"Don't walk away from me Ryan," Cindy said.

Ryan whispered to Hawthorne as they passed by each other, "I can't believe you let her in. You know how dangerous the situation is. How did she even get past the barrier?"

"You're the one who said you wanted her over," the woman rebutted. "She came here before it dropped."

He took a glass, went to the tap and filled it with water. He heard Cindy storming into the kitchen.

"I said don't walk away from me."

He drained the glass, but it didn't satisfy his thirst.

"I want a damn explanation. No lies."

No lies. That's what Ryan wanted too. But she just wasn't ready for the truth.

"I told you, I was busy," he tried to put some distance between her as he headed to the living room.

The scent of her blood was growing stronger. And so too was the will to take it. She followed him still, each step heavy with determination. Then she just stood there, all stubborn like. He watched her as she tapped a finger on her arm impatiently, her pretty pink lips wrapped in a scowl.

"So you're gonna keep lying to me?"

"I'm not," he held her face in his hands, "I was out." the perfect story came to mind, "at the cemetery. Visiting my dad."

Her features softened. This just might work.

"Why didn't you just say that?" She asked.

"You were upset. I wanted to give you some time to cool off."

"I'm sorry that I didn't say anything about it."

"No, I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have blown up like that. I should've remembered that today was the day your dad died."

Now Ryan felt bad for not actually going to the cemetery.

"It's okay," he said.

He was glad he was able to calm her down. Even if he had to lie. He wondered if this was how Stephanie did it. Or maybe her ability to calm her down was something close to her magic. She was Nature, after all, serene and calm. Nature always calmed him, so the idea made sense.

"Ryan!" The feminine voice that uttered his name didn't come from his girlfriend he was embracing.

At that realization, his stomach tightened. He turned his head to the right to see Alice on the stairs. Cindy's head turned too as she pushed herself from Ryan's body. Ryan looked at the blonde girl whose head swiveled slowly from the threat on the stairs to Ryan.

"Who the hell is she?"

"She's uh—"

"Don't bother," Cindy spun on her heels, "I'll save you the trouble of making up another lie."

She strutted past Alice as if they were on a catwalk and almost knocked her over. Ryan heard the door slam.

"Girl trouble?"

"You're going to fix that," he said as Alice approached him.

"Sure but first more important stuff," she said. "We figured it out."

"What is it?"

"Jase."

The girl walked upstairs leaving Ryan to follow. They went back to the room where Jase was. He ignored the unconscious body of Florence as Jase explained his brilliant idea. It sounded concrete. These guys have been practicing magic for years so Ryan believed they could pull it off.

"Good," he said when Jase was done, "now you," he said to Alice, "you have a problem to take care of."

"It's simple really," she said. "Even you could do it."

"I'll ignore the fact that you're insulting my powers and simply ask how do I do it?"

"Just tell her the truth."

Ryan stared at her, "Tell her the truth?"

"Yeah," she said walking into the hallway. Ryan followed her.

"I should tell her that I'm a warlock and that I was captured by another warlock that was trying to take my magic and kill me?"

"Exactly."

Ryan gave her a quizzical look before leaving her standing in the hallway.

"Eliot might've fried your brain back there," he said as he went downstairs.

He was going to turn right for the door to chase after Cindy, but a blur of blonde on his left caught his eye. He turned to assess it and saw that it was Cindy, unbelievably in fewer tears than what she left with. He approached her.

"You came back," he said.

"Didn't want to leave things on a bad note," she said trying to smile.

"Me either." Ryan sat beside her on the couch. "I didn't want to lie to you it's just that..."

"That what?"

"I want to keep you safe. The less you know, the better it is for you."

"You can't make that decision."

"But I have to."

"No you don't," she said and held his hand, "you can tell me."

"You aren't upset about the girl?"

"What girl?"

"Alice, my friend. It's not what you think it is."

"I know, I trust you."

Ryan's brows furrowed, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she said, "now tell me the truth."

Ryan took a breath. Both to release the tension and to give himself one last second to decide if he really should tell her.

"Truth is," he said, "I have magic."

"Ryan!" It was Alice again.

That girl must have the worst timing in the entire universe. He was thrown off though by the worried look on her face.

"I know." He heard Cindy behind him.

He turned to the girl confused. Her eyes had changed from blue to gray.

"And I'm going to take it."
Chapter Sixteen

Ryan watched as Cindy's blonde hair fell out and grey locks replaced them. Ryan realized that his girlfriend was actually Grayson. Ryan felt his limbs go limp at a flick of the man's wrist. Grayson got up to retrieve him. His shoulders became broad and his face squared as he returned to his normal form. His own form. However, Grayson never got to Ryan. Alice threw him into the kitchen with a blast of wind. Ryan's body came back under his reign the moment Grayson was gone, and he ran like mad.

He didn't know if it was instinct or that his mind subconsciously came to the decision that the best place to run was straight for the one that just saved him. He almost crashed into her as he swiveled onto the stairs.

He heard the door behind him slam into the wall as it swung open. He glanced back and saw the cannibal things pouring through the door. Alice managed to throw some of them about with her wind magic, but they both knew more were on the way. Ryan had the urge to bite his tongue but stopped himself because he knew he couldn't wield his power. Well not on his own at least.

Even though he hated the thought of sharing his magic with Florence, it was the only way for him to wield his magic without swallowing the world whole.

"How did you know?" he asked Alice, as they ran through the hall.

"I sensed it. His energy. It's unmistakable."

"So my girlfriend was my freaking enemy from day one."

"That wasn't her," Alice clarified. "Grayson must've kidnapped her when she left earlier and morphed into her."

"What the hell's going? I heard noise coming from downstairs," Jase stood ready at the door.

"Grayson, he's here," she said. "We have to leave now."

"I have to tell Hawthorne."

"I think she already knows," Alice said as she looked out the window.

Ryan joined her and stared at the guardians battling the Siphs. The warriors in their blue armor wielded enchanted weapons against the savages that wanted their flesh. Ryan wasn't sure, but from his viewpoint, he could guess the guardians were losing. And even if they weren't, they were about to. The cannibals seemed to be flooding in from everywhere. Soon they would overwhelm the small group.

"We have to leave now," she said as she turned to the bed.

"But we can't, the barrier's still there," Jase said.

"Then we'll have to fight our way through this until it lifts," she said. "Jase you're on guard duty."

Ryan watched runes carve themselves into Jase's arms. It wasn't long before a cannibal made for the doorway but Jase bashed in its skull with one punch. Alice positioned her hands on Florence's head. Ryan heard her chanting something under her breath and then Florence's eyes flung open.

"Alice!" He said with a gasp. "Is everything okay? Did we get out?"

"Yeah we got out," she said, "but they've found us, they're here."

Florence looked around the room wildly. The moment his eyes met Ryan's he sprung from the bed and lunged. But Florence was groggy and unstable from the sudden awakening, so Ryan easily sidestepped him.

"You knocked me out!" Florence said.

"The amulet broke, I had no control over that," Ryan said.

"You could've told me it could break," he said, "I would've prepared myself."

"Even if I knew it could, you wouldn't have been able to the handle the full power anyway."

Florence straightened himself, "I can handle a lot more power than what you have."

"Jase, get in here," Ryan said.

Jase spun on his heels and came to them.

"Let's see just how much you can handle."

Ryan held out his arm. Jase looked at him and then to Florence. Florence held out his arm too. Jase grabbed both arms and Ryan felt the familiar feeling of rune worming on the surface of his skin. He also felt the same feeling in his back too but knew that one was for a different purpose.

"Time to go Jase," Alice said as she grabbed his shoulder.

Ryan saw the reason for the hurry. More cannibals than they could count were pouring through the door. The beasts never made it to them though. The group was standing outside in the cold night air a second later. The atmosphere was crisp with the dew covered grass, blood, and battle cries. Jase had warped them right into the heat of the battle.

"Come on bloodsucker, get the power flowing."

"Don't call me that."

"Fine, Ryan," He drawled the word, "activate your magic, we're sitting ducks out here."

Ryan knew that, but he wasn't eager to bite his tongue again just yet. He had realized something that happened whenever he drank his own blood.

"I can't," he said.

"What do you mean you can't?"

"Can't use my own blood," he said. "Well, not anymore. It drains my energy." He tried to ignore Florence's glare, "It drained you too. You know it."

"Fine," he said, "then some blood from a Siph."

"And how will I manage to do that before they sink their teeth into me?"

"Use mine then." Alice stepped forward and offered her arm to him.

Ryan did nothing but look at her.

"Come on," she urged, "we don't have much time."

Ryan made a step forward, and instantly Florence came between them.

"Don't," he said.

Alice stepped around him, "We don't have time for this. You won't give him yours and neither will Jase."

A blade appeared in her hand and then slid across her wrist. Ryan was mesmerized by her blood. Even if he didn't want to at first, he was going to drink it now. The blood was calling to him, and he knew he needed it.

"Come on, Ryan. Now," she said.

Ryan pounced on the girl's arm. His mouth sucked at the wound. If Florence hadn't caught his head and tore it away, he knew he would've bled her dry. Ryan felt the magic expanding and bubbling. But instead of tearing away at his being and anything nearby, it flowed to Florence who — judging by the fact that he was still conscious — was handling the power well. Ryan almost envied the boy for being able to control his own power so easily whereas Ryan had been struggling with it for years. But envy was a minor emotion compared to the euphoria he got from the blood. Alice's blood was the best he's had in a long while. No, not the best, it wasn't better than Stephanie's. Regardless, his throat was no longer itchy.

"Well then," Florence said, "time to fight for our lives."

The group divided as they got into the battle. Ryan wasn't worried this time. Unlike before, he had a sense of how to use his magic. He wasn't suddenly Gandalf, but when he drank Alice's blood, he gleaned something from it. A slice of her life. In that slice, he learned a little about how to wield his magic. The ability was new to him; no doubt a feature of his magic. So Ryan went into the battle more confident and ready than ever before.

Ryan charged at the cannibals head-on. With his strength increased by tenfold. He was able to go head to head with the Siphs and come out on top. Grayson walked towards Ryan. A guardian went for the man, but Grayson snapped his neck with a finger motion — from two feet away. Ryan didn't let the apparent experience difference deter him from attacking Grayson.

When he swung at Grayson every muscle in his body seized.

"Did you really think you could fight me?" The man said. "You Bloods, always think you're stronger than everyone else."

A bullet of air sent the man skittering sideways. Ryan looked across to see Alice. As the man got to his feet another rush of wind knocked him over. The man was persistent, and she launched a third at him, but the man deflected it. He then sent a bolt of electricity that would've fried the girl, but she seemed to have a shield up. Sparks splattered against an invisible wall. Alice launched a rock at Grayson. The stone weathered to dust a foot from where he was standing. The dust shrouded the man, and Alice sent a rush of air to part it. The burst of wind tore through the dust, but Grayson wasn't there.

He appeared right in front of the girl. His hand sprung to her neck. When he caught her throat, vein-like lines of yellow pulsed along her skin. Grayson removed his hand, and the girl fell limp. The man turned his head to Ryan, disappeared, and then reappeared right in front of him. Before Ryan could react the man's hand was crushing his throat, and he couldn't feel his limbs. Ryan knew this was the end. The man had bested him, and he would be fooling himself if he ever believed he could fight this man — much less kill him.

Grayson had him. Eliot won. Ryan knew that in a few moments, the warlock will be stripping his magic. Then Ryan would die.

Ryan banished his thoughts of death when he saw Grayson's eyes bulge. A thick root wrapped itself around Grayson and was crushing his body. Ryan heard the bones crunch as the body finally succumbed to the pressure. The man's body hung in the root's grasp; hollow and limp. Ryan fell as the dead hand released him. He was still paralyzed however and as much as he tried to move, he couldn't.

An odd thing happened then. The base of the root swelled with a white and black scar on its bulge. When it seemed as if it would burst, a black and white cat slid out of the swelling. Seeing a cat spawn from a tree root stunned Ryan, but he then realized it wasn't just any cat, it was Skittles.

The cat came up to him, pounced on his body and went up to his neck.

"Paralysis curse, eh?" Ryan forced himself to believe it wasn't the cat.

He could handle the thought of having magic. He could handle being hunted by a warlock and cannibals trying to tear his head off. But he couldn't handle the fact that Stephanie's cat just spoke. His head might explode.

Ryan felt the cats tongue lapping at his neck and as it did, feeling returned to his limbs. Soon his entire body was under his operational once more. The cat hopped off Ryan, and he turned sideways toward it. He wanted to say thanks, but the words couldn't pass his lips. Instead, his mouth hung open.

"No problem mate," It said.

"Help Alice too," Ryan managed to say.

Ryan watched as the cat scurried between moving feet as it made its way to Alice.

"Stop slacking off, jerk," a female voice scolded.

Ryan recognized the voice. He turned to see Stephanie. She held out a hand, and he took it. It was the first they've ever touched consensually, and it sent electrifying energy through him.

"How'd you get in here?" He asked. "There's a barrier up."

"Usually people start with a thank you when someone just saved their life," she said, "but you're not like them, right," Ryan knew that was too true now. "There was an opening in the barrier. Its small, but I got through."

"That must be how Grayson got in," he said.

"And that's how we're going to get out." A new voice said. Ryan spun to see Hawthorne.

"You knew about this?"

"I told you, plans were being executed, and that was a part of it. Everything's in place for us to go now."

"But the others—"

"They can fend for themselves. They've been doing it all their lives. If they're smart enough they'll sense the opening and take it to get the hell out of here too."

"I won't leave them here."

"You don't have a choice."

Ten men then popped into existence, surrounding them in a circle.

"Like hell I do."

Ryan rushed for the space between the men. The men didn't stop him, but an invisible wall did as he slammed into it.

"What the hell?" His head twisted to Hawthorne, "let me out."

"Wouldn't even if I could."

Ryan turned back and couldn't believe what he saw. Grayson stood in the middle of the chaos with someone held in his arms. The man should be dead. He _was_ dead. So how the hell was he standing there? Ryan then noticed who was in his hands. Ryan's heart quickened when his eyes met Cindy's. His head spun to Hawthorne.

"Let me out! He has Cindy!"

"He won't hurt her, he can't!" Hawthorne said. "He knows The Order will come after him if he hurts a Normal."

"He's going to freaking kill her!" Ryan said as he looked back at his girlfriend.

Grayson was barking orders at him. Orders that involved a trade — Ryan for Cindy. Orders he couldn't follow because he couldn't even hear them much less escape this invisible prison. A knife came at the girl's throat.

"Stephanie do something."

But the girl was petrified. She made movements with her wrist, but nothing came of it.

Ryan could see Grayson barking one last order — and Ryan knew it was his last as the man's grip tightened on the knife — but Ryan couldn't stop him.

The cold steel slid across Cindy's throat, and the blood flowed nonstop.

At that point, Ryan lost it. He bit his tongue harder than ever.

But nothing came of that either. The magic didn't flow, and as Cindy and the entire battlefield blinked away, he knew he couldn't save her.
Epilogue

Grayson heard maddening screams in his deep, dreamless sleep. It seemed to emanate from both outside his dreamscape and within it as well. Even now, it felt like it was bubbling within the bowls of his soul and spilling from his own throat. The wails echoed all around him and caused the dark realm to ripple and bend. When the wails reached a deafening crescendo, the monsters came.

They folded into form by using the dark emptiness as material for their bodies. Their skin shifted from black to grey as they emerged and the dark cloaks that covered them made it easy for Grayson to track their bodies. This time, Greyson saw the structures on their skin clearly. As he suspected, they were runes. But nothing like he has ever used. Nothing from Califros. Nothing from Earth. Even their presence was like nothing he had ever experienced. Not men. Not gods. They were a force in between which held a greater terror. Unimaginable.

A foreign fear enveloped Grayson. His heart quickened, his mind went blank, and his body felt as if it was encased in cement. It caused the beings to warp and shift. Their images frequently flickered to distort their bodies into monstrous figures. As they slowly circled Grayson, he felt like a lamb among wolves. The screams grew louder. The atmosphere changed from black to burning red. Huge balls of fire rained from the sky and smashed into the cityscape. The earth rocked and rumbled. People wept and scrambled. Chaos filled the streets, and the screams only got louder.

In the midst of this, the four beings did not disappear. They circled Grayson still. It was as if they were watching him. Their eyeless sockets seemed fixed on him as if they could actually see him. But this was just a dream. Even though it wasn't his — since he never dreamed. A simple touch would cancel it, and Grayson decided to do just that. He's had enough of this vision. The four beings stopped. Their sockets and the runes on their skins glowed a bright white. As one reached for him, the light intensified. It caught his left arm. This was the first time they have ever touched him. The hand was as hot as a furnace. The pain made Greyson flinch and pull back. In an effort to avoid another interaction, he woke. A remnant of the ache remained with him in the waking world.

The entire scene may have disappeared, but the screams that conjured it still raged. Grayson quickly threw on a robe and ran to Eliot's bedroom. Eliot writhed and wailed in the bed. Every twist and turn sent a shockwave through the air. The bed and walls quaked from the waves of magic. Greyson flew to Eliot's side and with a glowing hand, touched Eliot's forehead. Eliot became still. The screams stopped. The room no longer juddered but cracks threatened its stability. Grayson would tend to that later.

He opened the cabinet from the bed and retrieved a vial. When he turned to wake Eliot, the man was already rising from the bed. He rose quite ridged; bending from the waist while keeping his torso straight. Without looking at Grayson, Eliot slinked out of bed in his worn, naked form, bathed in sweat. Grayson followed Eliot through the door, down the hall, and into his study. He felt a tinge of the fear again once he saw the countless number of paintings all over the room. The frames of artwork became the walls themselves. Above them, on the ceiling, was a single huge painting. On it was a gross depiction of the four beings Grayson saw in the dream.

They were featured in the other paintings as well. From different angles and in different poses. Mixed in with these depictions were various cataclysmic events. Asteroids rained down from the sky, floods dwarfed cities, and earthquakes split the world in half. As for the sun; it no longer was.

Eliot stood at the blank canvas in the middle of the room. He reached for the brush.

"Before you start," Grayson held the vial to him.

Eliot turned, took the vial, and emptied it in one gulp. His skin tightened, and his worry lines disappeared. Grayson took the empty bottle and left the man to paint the things that haunted him. Grayson also tried to ignore the handprint on Eliot's left arm which matched the one on his.

Thank You

Thank you for reading Circleborn. If you liked this story and want others to know what you think about it, please leave your feedback to let others know what you think.

Thanks again,

Nicholas Stephenson
