Page 8 of Mostly Shattered

“Your entry into the game. A simple blood spell is finding everything you’ve encountered.” He reads the phone as he scrolls. “You got all the basics—troll, goblin, vampire, wood sprite, werewolf, succubus, fairy, reptilian, necromancer…” He stops scrolling and frowns. “When did you come across a vengeful spirit? Whose?”

I can’t meet his gaze and refuse to answer.

I shrug and turn my attention out the window. Paul and Diana are out of sight, but the ache and loneliness remain.

I just want a normal life.

It’s torture. I have to quit seeking them out. I have to let them go.

I have to let myself go.

Normal is not in my deck of cards.

“Seriously, vengeful spirit sightings are rare,” Anthony says, completely unaware of how much I hate everything supernatural in this moment. “I don’t even have that one.”

Chapter

Two

Devine Country Estate, Twenty-Two Years Ago…

“But why?” I insist as I lift my hand like I’ve seen Anthony do a hundred times. I nearly throw my arm off, trying to make the same gestures, but nothing happens.

“I don’t know. Maybe you’re broken?” Anthony suggests, bouncing a fireball in his hand.

Streaks of light pass over the moonlit field as my brother’s friends play fireball tag. I hear them laughing. They normally don’t let me play with them because I don’t have magic.

But maybe if I try really hard…

Anthony sees one of his friends dart past, and he launches his fireball at the kid’s back, barely missing him. Peter leaps into the air and shifts into his wolf form as he disappears into the shadows.

Anthony crouches close to the ground and motions me to do the same.

“Did you have magic when you were my age?” I whisper so as not to reveal our hiding place.

“I’ve always had it,” he says. “The nanny said, as a baby, I used to levitate and float around the room when I slept. They had to lock the windows, so I didn’t fly away.”

Anthony is seven and has always been wise beyond his years.

My eyes round in wonder at the thought. “Do you think I float when I sleep?”

“I don’t know.” He gives a shrug. I don’t know why he’s annoyed with me. I just want to play with them. “I think you have to wake up really fast and see if you’re in the air.”

I nod. That’s good advice. I’ll try that tonight.

Peter the werewolf comes running back by, fully shifted and howling.

“Did I tell you I’m getting a puppy for my birthday? And a cake as tall as I am with fairies?”

Anthony grimaces. “Gross. You want to eat fairies?”

“No!” I protest.

“Dammit,” Anthony says. “Shh!”

The howling becomes louder, and Peter reappears, charging toward us. My brother becomes serious as he stands from behind our log. Helaunches fireballs at his friend. I stand next to him and swing my arm with all my might, willing fire to come from my hand. It doesn’t.

Anthony misses several times before finally smacking the wolf on the side. Peter yelps. I see trails of smoke coming from his fur.

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