Page 44 of Magpie
If he ever even left the hospital.
I force those thoughts from my mind, determined to not look backward.
I make my way resolutely to the far corner, scooting into a booth as far away from the other patrons as possible. I keep my hood up, checking to make sure it is concealing as much of meas I can without making me look like I’m about to rob a bank. Sliding my backpack off my shoulder, I unzip it and go to inspect the remaining stack of bills in the brown envelope from Mr. Mortimer. As I pull the envelope toward myself, I pause.
It’s considerably bigger than I left it after bribing the bus driver. Peeking inside, I see many,manybundles of bills, held together with rubber bands.
Ronan actually cares, even if he has a shit way of showing it.
I swallow hard, placing the envelope back in my bag and pulling out my laptop. Kindness is not a gesture I’m familiar with, and I have few coping skills to be able to react to it. I’m just opening my laptop, waiting for the old machine to power on, when a waitress walks over.
“What’ll it be, hon?” she asks in a voice that tells me she would be more comfortable if a lit cigarette were hanging between her lips.
“Just coffee,” I say, trying to stay as still as possible, to avoid eye contact entirely.
“Uh-huh,” she drawls, flipping the ceramic mug over on the table in front of me and filling it up from the pot in her hand.
“Oh, and miss,” I call when she turns to walk away. I rummage around in my bag, slapping a hundred-dollar bill on the table and sliding it toward her. “Don’t let anyone sit near me.” I don’t dare to look up to see how she reacts to my bribe. All I see are her fire engine–red nails coming into view and plucking the bill off the table.
“You got it, hon,” she says, and I let out a breath of relief as she saunters off.
Pulling the mug toward myself, I take a large sip. The warmth of the steaming beverage does nothing to chase away the icy chill seeping out from my heart, but at least it will help me stay awake. I glance out the window. The sun is several hours from setting, but I know that all too soon, it will dip out of the sky,taking the light with it. I try not to think that it is the last time I will see it. Before I have to return to the House.
Before I return to him.
The silk blanket rustles as I settle into a more comfortable position. My legs are crossed underneath me, the hem of the short shift dress Alister prefers me in riding high on my thighs. I start to tug it down, trying to cover myself, but Alister snaps, “Leave it.”
I let go of the hem, leaving it where it is, exposing the entirety of my legs. Alister is seated in front of me on the large bed in his bedroom. We face each other, close enough that our knees are touching. He studies me as I slowly move my hands until they are palm up on my knees, exactly as he has instructed me countless times before. He leans forward, passing a gloved hand over my face, and my eyes drift shut.
I am getting surprisingly good at falling into the rhythm of our lessons, considering I hardly remember them. I focus on my breath, letting go of the feel of myself. The quiet crackling of the fireplace drifts from my mind as I fall easily into the trance. All that remains is the sound of our breathing, perfectly in time with each other.
“Look inside yourself, and find the keyhole,” he says, the same instruction he gives me every time. I can remember these moments, the steady breathing and the calming of my mind. I just can’t seem to remember what happens after. After he consumes it, like Sean told me. A small smile tugs at my lips at the thought of Sean. I’m not even aware until Alister’s cold voice snaps, “Focus, Magpie.”
I wipe the smile off my face and settle back into myself. I let out a breath, letting myself drift. He has been training me over the last several months, showing me how to cultivate the power he senses in me. He never alludes to what that power is, what I am achieving, no matter how many times I press him after our lessons, when the experience has fully faded from my mind. Leaving behind nothing but a foreboding feeling that I have done somethingwrong.
I shut that out of my mind, falling into the obsidian world and out of the feel of myself entirely. He guides me through the ethereal plane, a space where I am perfectly content to just drift. Even though I feel formless in this void, he is somehow able to manipulate me. To hold me, tug me, push me as though we are seeking something.
“This would be easier if I knew what I was looking for,” I say, my voice sounding distant and detached. It echoes in the void, wailing softly around me.
“Focus,” Alister growls, the reprimand sharp, leaving no room for questions. My voice might be ephemeral, but his is loud and clear. I flinch at the harshness in his tone, always nervous about when his anger will turn to action.
I’m no stranger to his whirlwind emotions, and I’m becoming very good at sensing when his annoyance is about to boil over into fury. That is normally when I find an excuse to escape, to hide in Sean’s room until Alister calms down. It does not always work in my favor, however, and Alister is not always willing to letme leave his sight. When one of the rituals surrounding Samhain did not go to his liking, he locked me in his bedroom for weeks as punishment, although for the life of me I couldn’t determine how it wasmy faultthat it hadn’t worked.
“Center yourself,” Alister says, his voice filling not just my ears but my mind.
I spin and turn in the darkness, casting my mind’s eye about. I don’t see it as much as I feel it, and I zero in on the sensation. “There…” I breathe, and I get the vague feeling of Alister’s hands gripping mine, anchoring me to him. I am prepared for it, so I don’t let the motion pull me out of this space. If I lose the connection now, he will not be pleased. Gritting my teeth, I push the feel of the waking world from my mind, centering myself, focusing on the sensation calling to me.
Alister smiles. I can’t see it, but I can feel it, and it makes a pit open in my stomach. “Follow it, and tell me everything you see,” he whispers, sounding closer to me than my own thoughts. I can hear the giddy anticipation building in his voice, and I imagine he is squeezing my hands tightly, though I ignore the feeling entirely.
“I see a pale gray orb—no, wait, it’s a moth,” I say, the light shifting and growing. I squint against it until the fluttering moth takes shape before me, and I can see the scene clearly. “There’s a man. An older man.”
As I say it, the memories, the stories, the sense of self pool into me, and I settle into a deeper understanding of the man. I watch the memories playing before my eyes, grinning at the simplicity of his life. A farmer by trade and family tradition, he has dedicated his life to tending the earth. He married young, loved fiercely, and lost her tragically just a few years later. He never took another wife, knowing his heart was forever with her. Having no children of his own, he dotes on his sole niece.
Before I can get lost fully in the labyrinth of his life, Alister’s sharp voice pulls me back to him. “Keep going, Magpie. Tell me more.” There is an odd hunger in his voice, and I feel the first seed of fear beginning to take root inside of me. I don’t want to tell him more; I get the strangest feeling that I should keep these things to myself. But Alister does not give me choices. He gives me commands. He is my master, and I know only too well what happens when I don’t obey.
“He is surrounded by family, a brother and sister-in-law. Ginger, his niece, is holding a child.” I smile brightly. “It’sherchild. He feels like a grandfather, a quiet thought he doesn’t share with anyone else. There is so much laughter, so many people bustling in and out, and a deep sense of belonging. I think it might be a party.” I smile wider at the feeling of joy and connection that radiates off the man.
“Very good, Magpie. Keep going. Keep telling me everything.” Alister’s praise sounds strange in my ears. It’s dripping with something sinister, something lethal. I feel a great energy swelling around me, filling me, and I’m frightened of it. I want to claw the feeling out, want to scrub myself raw until no trace of it remains on my skin. But I know it is only in my mind, and the only way to rid myself of it is to give it to Alister.
