Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73252 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73252 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Is this something I can be taught? My knowledge of magic is so limited. Are all witches able to do the same kinds of spells? Are some more powerful than others? And what about active powers like clairvoyance and telekinesis, like Marie mentioned? Are those common? I have absolutely no idea, and I’m both excited and terrified to find out.
“Careful,” I tell her as we enter the warehouse. “The building is really unstable.”
We carefully make our way inside, retracing my steps from only hours before. The bag and notebook are still where I left them, and I quickly scoop them up. Marie stops at the crack in the floor as we make our way back toward the exit, shock and fear crossing her face.
Definitely not a good sign.
Once we’re back at the car, she closes her fist, and it’s like she squeezes the energy ball into nothing. She starts the car but doesn’t shift into drive. Instead, she clicks on the overhead light, and we look at the notebook together.
“Wow,” she says softly as I turn through the pages.
“I’ve heard of things like this happening before,” she says in disbelief. “I just never realized how much was still going on in this day and age.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re too young to remember, and I don’t know how much history the Order teaches, but there was a time when our government was very interested in anything paranormal and how it could be used for military advancement.”
“I’ve seen a few documentaries,” I say. “I think the closest thing I’ve gotten is, uh, watching Captain America.”
“It started out innocently enough,” she says. “They paid witches to volunteer for clinical studies. We wanted to figure out what gave us our powers. We told them it was simple. It followed bloodlines. Really not any different than inheriting a physical trait from someone.” She exhales. “But people voluntarily showing up and telling the government they came from powerful lines of witches only made things worse. They wanted to experiment on siblings. Children. See what kind of magic was passed from mother to daughter.”
She pauses. “The volunteers became, well…not volunteers anymore, if you know what I mean.” She takes a breath as we flip through a few more pages of notes. “It seems to have gotten better in the late eighties once the Grand Coven got involved. The world doesn’t know witches exist, but governments do in one sense or another.” She gives me a half smile. “The same way everyone knows the CIA is covering up the existence of aliens.”
“I never thought about it,” I confess and stare down at a page of notes until my vision blurs. It’s about a thirteen-year-old girl named Lindsay who showed promise until she was put under too much stress and her powers went inward, whatever that means.
There are no more notes after that…and her name has been crossed out.
“So you think the Order is still doing what the government claimed it stopped doing?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says definitely. “The Order and different factions of governments around the world have always worked together.” She almost winces before continuing. “And I do think the Order started with good intentions. If you look at the black and white of it, what they’re doing sounds right. Demons are bad. Getting rid of bad things is good. But where do you draw that line…”
“…is where the water gets muddy,” I finish. “The Order thinks witches and werewolves are supernatural creatures that should be killed. So my theory that the Order is trying to make super soldiers they can control using magic is correct?”
“Yes,” she says. “Along with figuring out one other thing.”
“What?”
“If they can figure out where our magic comes from, they can put a stop to it.”
I stare at her in horrified disbelief.
“Think of it as magical birth control.”
“I feel like I’m living in a science fiction movie,” I say.
“You’re telling me.” She laughs. “Come on. Let’s go to the Covenstead. I can make copies of this notebook, and you can keep the original if you’d like. Is there anything else useful in that bag?”
I look through it, finding another vial of blood, though this one is unlabeled. There are a few weapons and candles too, probably used in the ritual to summon Vaelric the first time.
“Not really,” I tell her.
I close the notebook and put it back in the bag, then I pull the seatbelt over myself and resist the urge to check my phone. I’m doing nothing wrong by going with Marie to learn where I came from. If we want to lock Vaelric back in a cage, I’m going to need other witches to help me do it anyway. But I also know how much Xavier would not want me here right now.
So I’m not going to tell him. And that alone feels icky.