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Chapter Twenty-Two

AYO

My head is pounding, every single muscle in my body aches, and I feel like I’ve been run over multiple times.

I blink, squinting against the bright lights in the white room.

I appear to be on some sort of bed with rails, maybe a hospital bed?

There are definitely all sorts of wires connected to me and a tube going into my left hand.

I’m also wearing one of those awful hospital gowns that let a person’s bum hang out for reasons only medical people know.

I have a moment of gut-clenching panic when I realise the reassuring weight of my focus is missing, but then I spy it on the tiny table on the right hand side of my bed, the moonstone in the centre twinkling faintly.

Nyoka is on the left side of the room in front of a spaceship-style control panel, his black and green velvet cloak swishing around him as he works, his fingers covered in his usual collection of rings.

The control panel takes up the entire length of the wall and every button and dial is covered in runes, the screens displaying a whole bunch of graphs and readings that mean nothing to me.

I didn’t know the coven healers had anything like this. I guess I’ve never actually been magically ill so I’ve never needed it. Which really does beg the question of what the heck happened? And why have they removed my focus? Surely that can’t be standard procedure.

Why isn’t Ethan here? Is he outside, not allowed in because he’s not a coven member? It wouldn’t surprise me at all if Nyoka’s keeping him from me, regardless of whether or not he’s figured out we’re in a relationship. I can’t hear anything from outside so there’s likely a privacy ward in place.

I can barely turn my head. Moving anything from the neck down is an impossible task. I try to access my magic to get more clues about any wards or spells in the room, but I get barely a flicker in response.

Shit, that’s not good. My focus only helps control my magic, so I should still have plenty of power even when I’m not wearing it.

My heart starts pounding as I try again with a similar lack of result.

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to slow my rapid breathing, concentrating on nothing but that tiny spark inside me.

My magic is barely alive.

That must be why I’m here. What was I doing that hollowed me out so badly? I remember using up almost everything while borrowing the grimoires from the manor, but that had improved… Then…

Nyoka must hear my change in breathing because he turns around. “Ah good, you’re awake.”

“What happened?” I croak. My mouth is as dry as the Sahara.

“You drained yourself dry, silly boy. What were you even doing to manage it? Your well of magic is usually enormous.”

I hesitate, not sure how to tell him I used up my magic getting the family grimoires because I suspect one of our coven members is the serial killer we’ve all been searching for.

I don’t know if he’ll believe me, especially if I tell him I suspect his own wife.

Not when he thinks he and the task force already locked up the guilty person when they sent Xana to Wargate.

But at the end of the day, Nyoka is the coven leader. He deserves to know the truth.

“Nyoka… Xana isn’t the person who’s been murdering our people. Have you ever heard of a Nagual?”

Nyoka’s face loses colour as his entire body goes rigid. He has, then. Good. I did wonder if he’d read the grimoires. At least this way he’ll have to acknowledge the possibility.

“How do you know about the Nagual spell?” he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Dad.”

“Of course.”

“Someone else must know as well, because the evidence fits a Nagual far better than a cat shifter with no scent. I haven’t been able to figure out who yet, but?—”

“Who else have you told about this?” Nyoka rushes over, urgency in his every movement. “This is dangerous knowledge. We must act quickly.”

I open my mouth to answer, then change my mind at the last second. I’m not sure why, but the teeny tiny bit of magic flickering in my core pulses a warning. “No one. I didn’t have time, what with the protest.”

“Of course,” he says, backing away to the control panel again.

“We must replenish your core as quickly as possible. That much magic will be needed for the fight. So you burnt out your magic reading the grimoire? No, that wouldn’t do it.

You can read it. You took it. Hmm, yes, the magic required to remove a grimoire from the vault would definitely burn out a sorcerer. ”

He goes on muttering to himself as he taps various buttons and reads the four different displays. I don’t think now is the time to tell him it actually took removing eleven grimoires to burn me out.

Although, did it? I remember being back at Ethan’s flat. I found the spell, which is what confirmed everything. I messaged the others. Some of my magic had replenished.

My memory is really fuzzy, but… there was a fire drill. Fuck, that was it. I thought it might be a real fire so I set up spell protections.

“How did you even get it off the stand?” Nyoka stops fiddling with things and turns to me. “Everything in that room was designed centuries ago to prevent the grimoires from ever leaving.”

The itty-bitty flicker of magic in my core pulses another warning. “Can we talk about it later? I’m really parched.”

My hoarse voice is a testament to this and thankfully Nyoka waves the question off with a frown. “Of course. I’ll bring you some water as soon as I’m done taking these readings.”

“Thank you.” Why does it feel wrong to thank him?

How did I get from Ethan’s building to here? I went down the stairs… someone helped me…

Shifters. There were shifters, mixed species, like when I was jumped and warned off from claiming my inheritance…

Am I being healed right now? It’s what Nyoka seems to be saying he’s doing. But then why are none of the healers here?

I did burn myself out… but if I was with shifters at the time, did they call Nyoka to help me?

Or capture me?

Shit, am I a prisoner?

“Is this about my inheritance?” I blurt out. “Because if you want whatever the artefact is, we could have just talked about it. There was no need to attack me and warn me off.”

If it isn’t Nyoka he’ll have no idea what I’m talking about, or he’ll at least deny knowing anything about it, but from the way he goes utterly still I don’t think that’s the case. Did my cousin have me beat up that day when DI Gough chased the supes off? Is that why I wasn’t more injured?

I’m such an idiot for not telling Ethan about my inheritance. I really did intend to, it’s just that somehow I never quite found the right time. If I’d told him, he’d have a better chance of guessing where I am now. Because I really don’t think he’s waiting outside this room.

Nyoka slowly turns around. “You have no idea, do you?”

I try to swallow around my parched throat. There’s no moisture in my mouth at all. “No idea about what? The inheritance?”

Nyoka’s smirk is a look I’ve never seen on my cousin before. I have to say, it’s fucking creepy, like he’s dropped a mask I didn’t realise he was wearing.

“The inheritance isn’t an artefact, Ayo.”

My heart is racing and the hairs on my arms stand on end. I try to sit up but I feel pinned to the bed. Am I simply drained? Or is there a spell preventing me from moving my limbs? With so little magic, I can’t tell.

“What…”

“The inheritance is the manor, the estate, and billions of pounds.” Nyoka turns back to the screen as I gape at him, a chill running over my entire body.

“It was all going according to plan until you moved out. I must admit, that was short-sighted of me. Hmm, yes. Magic replenishing nicely. A day should be enough, then we can get to work.”

I’ve never been as at a loss for words as I am right now. Billions? That can’t be right.

Can it?

And the manor. And the estate. But that means… “Wait, you kicked me out of a house I own?”

Nyoka doesn’t turn around. “Technically, as your guardian, Qadir had stewardship. Since there was a short period when I became your guardian, I took over. That was enough for Lola to draw up tenancy paperwork. It’s only yours once you claim it, and since you haven’t…”

“Are you fucking serious?” I yell, my chest tight with the pain of betrayal. “I trusted you! I loved you! And all this time, you’ve been charging me rent on a house I own, kicked me out of it, and now, what, you’re trying to steal it all permanently? You absolute fucking bastard!”

My yelling does lose some impact since my voice is so hoarse and I still can’t move, but I think I get my message across.

My body is vibrating on the inside. My tiny spark of magic is growing, but without my focus, I’m not sure I can direct what little I have into breaking what I’m now convinced is a paralysis spell.

I channel all my anger, all my rage, into trying anyway because I really want to throw a fireball at my cousin.

Nyoka shakes his head as if he’s disappointed in me, barely sparing me a glance. “Loving me is a waste of time. Even Qadir only became your guardian out of a sense of guilt.”

“What?” My blood runs cold. That can’t be true. “No, Qadir was an amazing guardian. He didn’t fake how much he cared about me. Wait, what do you mean guilt? Guilt about what?”

Nyoka turns and fiddles with one of his rings. “Mother’s experiment.”

“Experiment? What experiment?”

Nyoka starts pacing the small room. “It was quite brilliant, really. Mother was always jealous that Aunt Wema got all the power and everything that came with it when she was so much younger. Just because her sister was a sorcerer, she couldn’t become coven leader, got a tiny share of the family inheritance, and worse, your mother got a husband who actually stuck around. ”

“Aunt Mara was jealous of Mum?” Having never had a sibling, that’s not something I can relate to at all and I’ve never heard of any rivalry between our parents before.

“Oh tremendously, yes. But she came up with a brilliant solution.”

I’m not sure I want to know, but I think I have to. “An experiment?”

“ The experiment. She poured all of her money into it, every penny of the small inheritance she got. If it had worked, Mother would have had all of Aunt Wema’s power.”

“What, permanently?” I’ve never heard of anything like that before. The idea of stealing power from another magic-user is nauseating.

Nyoka nods, still pacing. “Yes, she was attempting to transfer Aunt Wema’s core into her.”

“Oh my goddess, that’s horrific.”

Nyoka stops pacing and stares straight at me. “Horrific? No, it was a stroke of genius. If Uncle Uba hadn’t gotten in the way, she might have succeeded.”

“Dad stopped the experiment? Wait… Fuck, Nyoka, is that how they died? It wasn’t a rogue group of shifters at all, was it?” That’s what I was told at the time, and I didn’t question it. Why would I?

Looking back, some out-of-towners killing my parents is unlikely given how powerful they both were, although it’s not impossible. I guess I just assumed they were tricked into letting their guard down. They both saw the best in people, so it was within the realm of possibility.

“No, of course not. The experiment went wrong. Mother couldn’t contain a sorcerer’s core in her body or a sorcerer’s power within her own core.

All three of them died, but I was able to transfer a small portion of your mother’s core into this.

” Nyoka takes off one of his rings and holds it out to show me.

“I must say, it’s been extremely beneficial over the years.

Not a substitute for a sorcerer’s full core, of course, but it’s taken years to experiment with alternatives. ”

I open my mouth but no words come out. I try to remind myself how to breathe.

My aunt killed my parents.

Nyoka has been carrying around a portion of my mum’s core.

Increasing his power.

Oh, shit.

“It’s you, isn’t it?”

“Me?”

“The Nagual.” He has the power for it. That ring would provide him more power than a group spell worked with five mages. A power boost sufficient to work a sorcerer’s spell.

He slips the ring back on, that creepy smirk returning to his face.

“Yes, Ayo. You see, Mother’s problem was that she jumped straight to the end goal without conducting any testing first. Now, not only do I know how to use a sorcerer’s power in conjunction with my own, but I’ve finally perfected how to incorporate another magic-user’s core.

Admittedly it took a few tries to get right, but no matter.

I’m ready to take your core just as soon as you recharge. ”

He turns and strides out before I can formulate a response, which is probably just as well. I stare at the closed door, trying to wrap my mind around the horror of my cousin killing his own people simply to steal their cores for his own sick experiments.

Was this even about money? Or is he simply as jealous of my power as my aunt was of my mum’s?

I don’t know why he needs me to be at full power to rip out my core, but at least it buys me time, since he doesn’t know about connecting to ley lines. Because fuck, I have to get out of here. Before it’s too late.