Page 11 of Charming Her Monsters

One, I didn’t know witches could create portals. And two, it’s the first time I’ve actually witnessed it myself. I was knocked out when traveling through portals before.

Arran doesn’t waste a second, turning me again to look at him. “What’s going on?”

“And what have you been keeping from us?” Maxum adds. His tone is firm, but he’s not angry.

“It’s okay, Jade. You are not in danger,” Flint says, and I meet his kind eyes. “I would sense it. You can tell us what’s wrong and what happened tonight.”

With his deep rumbly voice, his words put me at ease, oddly more so than if Arran or Maxum had said it. Perhaps because they both are personally invested in me. But that also means they might be more upset by what I have to say.

Maxum seems to sense how uncomfortable I am. “Let’s go sit down on the couches, then we can be near Calder to keep an eye on him.”

Arran picks me up, carries me over to a couch, and settles me on his lap. “We’ll have to check the rest of you for more damage later. Okay?”

I nod, but I don’t know if they will toss me out after everything I confess. “Shouldn’t you be relocating right now since I inadvertently compromised your safe house?” I ask.

Maxum shakes his head. “I don’t think anyone will attack in the next few minutes while we figure this out.”

My mouth is dry, and I cough. Instantly, Flint is there with a glass of water in his hand as if he already knew I would need it.

“Thanks.” I take a sip and use the few extra seconds to organize my thoughts. “I’ll just start from the beginning.”

“That’s often a good place.” Maxum grins.

“First of all, I didn’t know about the pendant tracking me.”

“We know,” Arran says. “Go on.” He nudges me as he strokes down my back.

“Osen insisted I go to his death spot, or he was going to take over my body and do it regardless. While we were there, he had a vision, but I don’t know how much is real, or what it means. It’s very confusing. Then Rob attacked me, trying to get Osen out of my head. Suddenly, Calder appeared out of nowhere, and I must have hit my head during their scuffle. I don’t remember anything until I woke up here.”

“Let’s go back to what happened in this vision.” Maxum puts his hand on my knee and I half worry he will probe my mind and scramble it like he says he can do.

“Well, if Osen’s memory was accurate, then it seemed like Rob was there the night of his death.” I study all three of their faces, but they don’t seem surprised.

“The weird thing—the part that makes little sense—is that someone who looked a lot like me was also in Osen’s memory. Although she was put together and Rob seemed to defer to her. At first, Osen thought it was me. However, I thought it looked more like my abuela than it did me. We looked a lot alike. Heck, even my mother looks very much like me, just twenty years older. However, only my grandmother would have had a connection to the witch world since my mom hated the notion of magic.”

“But your grandmother is supposed to be dead, right?” Arran asks.

“So you don’t think it’s me?” My eyes widen in surprise. I’m rarely trusted, even when I do nothing to warrant suspicion. I didn’t expect them to accept what I’m saying at face value. They are supposed to be my enemy.

“We don’t even know if Osen’s memory hasn’t been twisted,” Arran explains. “When he first possessed you, he was extremely confused by times and dates. That confusion might not have passed entirely.”

“We don’t know if his soul is intact,” Maxum adds. “We also don’t know if he has pieced himself together and superimposed your image over his trauma. Heisliving in your imaginative head.”

“Oh, yeah. I suppose you’re right about that part.” I frown when I think about my circumstances. Just like I might work out a troubling plot point, my mind catches on a problem. “I appreciate you not immediately hating me, but I might be connected to Osen’s death through my ties to Rob. I’m pretty sure it was actually Rob who attacked me tonight. And that would suggest it was him in Osen’s vision.”

“Rob does appear guilty of being an accomplice to Osen’s death,” Maxum agrees.

“Okay. But now, I’m freaking out about the pendant. How is Rob able to use my grandmother’s pendant to track me? Did my grandmother want to drain me of my magic? And why?”

“Take a breath.” Maxum squeezes my knee reassuringly. “Rob is a warlock, and he’s had unfettered access to you, even while you were sleeping. At any point, he could have replicated and switched out your pendant. Or he could have altered your grandmother’s pendant to do those things.”

“But how did Osen’s soul get attached to me?” I ask. “That might suggest I was there when he latched on. What if I am to blame?”

“Or it could mean Rob went to your house afterward, triggered the spell he has on you, and then somehow attached Osen to your mind, hoping to get information through you,” Arran argues. “This wasn’t the first time you had a spirit linked to you, right?”

“No. Well, I don’t think so. But none of them have been as strong willed or aware as Osen is.”

The problem is we don’t have a clue what’s been happening to me.

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