Page 11 of Live To Tell

“My parents are amongst those who don’t talk about life before the supes revealed themselves to humans.” Why? I’ve researched, terrified my family had links to the old terrorist Dominion, but found nothing. Dad says he refuses to look backwards and then clams up. Did my family lose people or are there skeletons in closets that I haven’t found yet?

“My parents never attended,” Violet remarks and wanders across the cracked tiled floor towards spiraled stairs leading to a lower level. “Obviously.”

Yeah. Another past that's best not spoken about. “No. This way.” I lead Violet towards a back corner and a rectangular, handle-less door that matches the dark wood shelves on either side, almost blending in. The entrance to the old study rooms. “The first wards are here.”

Violet chews her lip and places a hand on the frame, causing runes to spring up and glow faintly white. She scoffs to herself, and flames appear at her fingertips as they did in the factory. Easily breaking the runes by scorching them, Violet opens the door to a small set of stone steps.

At the bottom, two other doors, these with silver lever handles, are sealed and with visible runes this time.

“This is as far as I’ve gotten,” I say and conjure a witch light into my palm. “The room with the artifacts is on the left and wards impossible for me to pass.”

Violet finds obliterating these runes with fire impossible and mutters with frustration after several minutes trying to break them. She reaches back for my hand and our fingers curl together.

Sometimes, the intimacy from the spell energy passing between us surpasses the type of touch that comes from the desire for something more physical. When we link, Violet’s magic begins as a gentle stroke along my arm, and if we’re connected long enough, that magic beats through me into something more arousing. A different arousal to when we kiss—I'm enmeshed with Violet on a level that's different to sex, as there’s a part within that I can only reach in moments like these.

Connecting this way overwhelms me as Violet becomes the center of who I am—through the breaths that synchronize, her soul meeting mine, shared energy running through my blood. Violet always falls silent at these times and it’s another of her ‘discuss this later’ topics. I can't figure out if she feels everything as intensely as I do, but as Violet avoids discussing the situation, I’m positive she does.

However and whatever Violet feels, the magic potency created by joining means she won’t avoid the act itself.

My vision refocuses when Violet's grip drops. The runes have faded and with a triumphant glance at me, she pushes down the carved silver handle. The energy firing inside fades, but the desire for Violet doesn't as we step into another unlit, sparsely furnished room.

Residual magic from past spells seeps from the walls and floor, as if we’ve broken into somewhere hermetically sealed. If I touched anything, I’d lose myself in the time of witches studying in the room.

“I’m not using magic in here.” I snuff out my witch light and point to a half-melted blood red candle, then flick a flame of my own at the wick. “I don't want to leave any imprints behind.”

The small light reveals chairs stacked in a corner and several solid wood shelves containing jars and boxes. I cross to examine items closer; most contain ingredients that can be used for dangerous spells—including belladonna. If I’d succeeded in breaking into this place before, I wouldn’t need to steal from Violet’s room that night. Attempt to steal. The first time we magically met head to head. I smile at the memory. Who would’ve thought we’d be here now?

I peek inside a carved walnut box—a variety of precious stones in varying sizes, some set in signet rings, and necklaces with talismans humming with energy. Setting the box down, I run fingers along a row of leather books. Most have no names on the side, but again, the magic and imprints hit me. I pull my hand away, not wanting the distraction. One thing’s sure—I’m glad I hid my family's grimoire in the current library before someone found the book. If that’s happened, the book would’ve ended up here alongside the Willowbrook stone.

“How boring,” comments Violet as she takes hold of what appears to be a rabbit’s foot on a black ribbon, before pulling a disgusted face and dropping it into a basket of white runestones.

She roughly rummages through drawers, occasionally examining the contents of small boxes before climbing on wobbly stacked chairs to inspect the tops of a higher bookcase. “Where's the tiara?” she grumbles as a small book falls onto the moldy rug.

I shake my head and turn away, searching for my own item. I easily locate the Willowbrook stone, tucked inside a charmed velvet pouch inside an iron box. The black stone fits into my palm, and I squeeze tight. Instantly, the object sharpens my Willowbrook magic, squeezing my chest, and my fingers curl tighter. Don’t let go. I'm pulled in two directions—leave the item here for my parents to collect or pocket it.

Another book flies from the shelf as Violet’s frustration increases.

“Can’t you sense the tiara at all?” I ask.

“No. If this is a ploy for me to aid you in stealing back your item, I shall be most unimpressed,” she informs me.

“Yeah, because making you pissed is always such a great idea, Violet.” I shake my head. “Your silent treatment when you don't get your own way is childish and boring.”

Her lips press together. “Sometimes silence is better than sharing my thoughts.”

“Mmm.” I toss the stone in my palm and step towards her. “Want to know why the academy removed this from me?”

She blows hair from her face, cheeks reddening with her exasperation. “More attempts at mystery, Rowan?”

I hold the object up between my thumb and forefinger. “The stone channels people’s thoughts and allows the Willowbrook holding it to manipulate them.”

“Right.” Unimpressed? “So, mental magic? Hardly unique.”

“Mind control. Like the day with Wesley,” I add.

Violet studies but doesn't touch the stone. “Then my theory that you manipulated Leif could've been correct.”

“Not possible, because I didn’t have the stone at the time.”

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