Page 5 of How Not to Hex a Gentleman (Witches of Edinburgh)

Chapter Five

KENNEDY

W e speed walk back to the apartment without a word, my mind coming up with a hundred explanations, but none of them seem rational enough. I pride myself on being pretty calm in most situations. I come into scenarios with a plan and options on how to execute it, but I'll be honest here, I'm freaking out. Fully and completely.

Because that was magic. There's no other explanation. Except I didn't do it, so that means someone else did it. But why? And how? And for what reason? Wait, my brain is repeating itself now. I think I might be heading into a full-blown hysteria. Which is absolutely not allowed.

Hundreds of warnings flash in front of me—all spoken by my aunt since the moment we knew I had magic in me.

You must never let anyone see it.

They will hunt you if you show any magic.

Magic will destroy you if you let it in.

That last one was repeated over and over in every possible way until my dreams became nightmares of me being chased and captured—tortured for simply being who I am. I couldn't even tell a counselor about it because that would be telling someone about magic.

Once we're inside the apartment, we head straight for the communal living room. I take the plush chair as Parker and Lily sit on the couch. The convenience of this apartment being furnished does not escape me, but if I focus on any of this for more than a second, I will lose my mind entirely.

I stare at the girls and they stare back. The one thing I do refuse to look at is my wrist, because what is there can't be real. Not while Parker and Lily are in the room. They don't know about magic, so I have to make sure they don't find out about it. The last time I was around a person with no powers, my aunt locked me in the basement for over a day, punishing me for not being able to control a magical response I had when I touched a crystal she left out. I have to keep things rational.

"Maybe there was something in those pasties," I say, breaking the silence. Common sense for common people. I have it. I can come up with options that are not magical. "It could be a collective hallucination."

"We've been drugged?" Lily gasps, and Parker levels me with a look.

"Can you not with the conspiracy theories? You're scaring Lily."

I glare right back at Parker before turning to look at Lily.

"I'm fine," Lily says, her voice quiet but strong. "I've never taken drugs, so I have no idea what to expect, but should I feel this kind of…electricity in my veins?"

I open my mouth to reply, but I have no idea what to say because it's happening to me too. However, unlike Lily, I'm familiar with this feeling. It's the type of awareness that travels over my skin, before it plunges straight into my bloodstream, making my whole body tingle. It's magic, waking up and stretching after a long rest. I've only felt it a few times in my life and each time I was severely punished. My mind is rebelling against the very possibility, but I can't ignore the way my body is feeling.

I have to pretend.

I have to stay in control.

I'm trying to come up with another explanation, but Parker speaks again. "No, this is not how it feels."

I focus on her, latching onto anything at this point other than the magic. "And how would you know? Have you been dosed with hallucinogens before?"

"No, but I'm pretty sure they don't come with a pretty thistle tattoo on my wrist," Parker snaps, raising her arm in the air, like she's trying to prove a point.

"Maybe we got food poisoning." I ignore the tattoo. "We could be delirious."

"The only delirious one here is you, Kennedy." Parker stands up from the couch and walks into her room.

"I'm trying to provide options," I call after her.

"Your options suck!" she yells from inside her room.

Exasperated, I run a hand over my hair and glance at Lily. She's staring at me with a concerned look—and something else. I can't quite place it, but I settle for staying logical.

"I'm sure it's nothing serious," I try to reassure her, even as my dread continues to rise. If there is a chance Parker—a non-magical person—finds out about my magic—I will be in danger. Those in power, who are always searching for more power, will come for me and they will punish me, more severely than my aunt ever has, breaking me down so that I become useful to them. This is the truth I've lived with my whole life. I can't let that happen.

Lily gives me a tense smile before glancing down at her wrist. "It feels serious," she says and now I'm even more concerned. "It feels like it means something big."

Before I can comment on that, Parker is back with a book in her hands. She plops herself down on the couch and gives me a smug smirk, which sets more of my internal alarms off.

"What?"

She raises her eyebrows at me before she looks down at the open book on her lap. "A sign of power can take shape in various ways," she begins to read. "There are documented instances where a lock of hair has turned a different color overnight. Other instances speak about variations in eye color or even marks on the skin."

"What is that?" Lily asks, but Parker isn't done.

"The most powerful signs are often intricate designs, often in the form of a symbol that best represents the power. It has been said, that the purest form of power shows itself in markings on the skin, like a tattoo."

"Parker—" My voice is low, my heart beating fast as I stare at her reading from the book. She can't be doing this. She can't be talking about magic like it's the most normal thing in the world. I glance around as if the walls have ears before I zero in on her once more.

The constant fear I've always lived with rises closer to the surface, making my head spin. I focus on pulling air into my lungs, my eyes not leaving Parker.

"Powers? What kind of powers?" Lily asks.

Parker looks up at her, giving her a brilliant smile before turning to me. "Magical powers, of course."

At first, I don't think I hear her correctly. There's a buzzing sound in my head, pushing all the noise out. Parker continues to watch me as I make myself as still as possible, afraid that one move will send me hurling off the edge completely. The magic under my skin is moving more freely now, as if the mention of it has freed it from its locked room.

"Umm, Parker, I think Kennedy's collective hallucination is maybe more plausible," Lily says, but there's something in her voice that tells me she doesn't believe it. Nothing is making sense.

"How is that more plausible?"

"Because magic isn't real." I finally find my voice, but that only makes Parker laugh. This girl is getting on my nerves.

"Look," I snap, "we're trying to come up with an answer to what in the world has happened to us. I would appreciate it if you took this seriously."

"I am taking it seriously."

"By suggesting magic?" I sigh, exhaustion weighing heavily on my shoulders. It's taking everything in me not to show Parker just how correct she is in her assessment, but if there is one rule I live by, it's that keeping my magic a secret is a must. A rule that's been so instilled in me, it's controlling my every response. I don't think I've ever been so afraid in my life, and logical thinking is escaping me by the second. I have to talk Parker out of this before it escalates any further.

Lily is staring at her wrist again before glancing up at Parker. I'm still refusing to acknowledge there's anything on my wrist, even though I can feel it there.

"Just because you don't believe in it, doesn't mean it's not real."

"I think that's exactly what it means." I sigh again, standing up just to give me something to do. I'm feeling antsy now, but I can't tell if pacing will help or make it worse.

"Think about it, Kennedy," Parker says, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "We touched some water that a glowing orb led us to and three identical tattoos appeared on our wrists as a result. That's not a hallucination. That's a magical event."

"Magic isn't possible," I say.

"Neither was air travel until someone decided to try it."

I level Parker with a look, but she's undeterred.

"You can't use science to justify magic."

"Why not? Isn't it the same thing? Just because it hasn't been discovered yet, doesn't mean it's not there. Although, there are centuries of recorded facts when it comes to magic, so I can't even make that argument."

"You can't make an argument at all, because magic is…well, magic," Lily speaks up, looking between the two of us.

"Oh, come on, Lily. I'd think you, out of all of us would be inclined to believe in magic. You already look magical." Parker waves her hand in Lily's direction, and Lily chuckles as she blushes. For once, Parker isn't wrong. Lily does look like a fairy princess and I would agree if I wasn't having an absolute meltdown.

"Look, magical studies is the whole concentration of my final project. It's why I wanted to come to Edinburgh in the first place."

"You said you were studying art," I say.

"Relating to witches," Parker supplies, and I remember her saying that, but I was working on blocking it out of my mind. The magic within me is flowing happily around, just waiting for me to give it permission to come out to play. But I can't do that. I can't let myself?—

"Tell me you don't feel it." Parker catches me right before I make another circle around the room, stopping right in front of me. She's a little taller than me, which I find particularly annoying right now.

"I don't feel it," I say, but the words are so hard to get out, Parker grins.

"You're a liar and I know why."

Parker glances back at Lily, her eyes growing bigger. When she looks back at me, I'm almost terrified of what she'll say next. Lily stands as well, coming up beside me.

"Parker, what is it?" Lily asks, because I'm having a difficult time breathing. Parker is grinning like she won the lottery and then she says something that changes everything.

"You're a liar because you're a witch. Just like Lily and I are."

I might be having an aneurysm or a stroke. It must be serious. Either that or I've fallen into an alternate reality. Lily and I stare at Parker as if she's lost her mind, while she continues to grin at us like she's won first place in the Olympics.

"Parker—"

"How did you know?" Lily interrupts me, shocking me into silence all over again. Parker squeals, grabbing Lily's hands and doing a little shimmy.

"I knew it, I knew it, I knew it." Parker tugs Lily along with her dance and the other girl giggles. They turn to me as one, but I can't make myself move. Is this how the world ends? Is this—no, I am not my aunt. The reason I basically ran away from home was to discover who I am without her overbearing and manipulating ways, but I never in a million years expected it to lead me to find more people with magic.

While my body continues to figure out if it's going with fight or flight, I take a deep breath. I can do this. I can work through this problem one step at a time.

"How did you know?" I ask, finally finding my voice.

Parker studies me for a moment as if gauging her response. I probably look like a deer in the headlights right now, but I can't control the fear that's washing over me.

"I didn't at first, but now, it's almost like I can feel it on you." She speaks the words slowly, as if afraid she'll spook me, and I wonder if she has empathy powers. I don't know very much about the different types of magic, and most of what I do know I learned by myself in secret, but my aunt has repeatedly cautioned me against empaths. They're dangerous because they can pick up on emotions even if you're closed up.

"Kennedy—"

"No!" I raise my hands in front of me, keeping Parker from moving closer. I tried being calm, but that has disappeared already. My emotions are all over the place and I'm afraid if this continues, my magic will manifest. I can't let that happen.

"We shouldn't be talking about this," I say, keeping my voice as firm as I can manage. "If you are what you say you are then you know it's not something that should be discussed. I—I need to go to bed or something."

I don't wait for a response before I rush to the room on my left, shutting the door firmly behind me. The room has a bed, a nightstand, a desk, and a chair. For the first time, I notice the bed is made and filled with pillows, and even though my suitcase is still out in the hall, I can't make myself go out there.

Instead, I fall onto the bed head first, making a grunting noise right into the comforter. That's when I realize that the bed has a comforter and pillows that I would've picked. Simple, white, and incredibly fluffy. Scurrying off the bed, I pull the door open, and the girls are each by their door and turn to face me.

"Did you make my bed?" I ask and they both shake their heads no.

"I think it's this place. It's our gift," Parker says, keeping her voice softer than I've heard it before.

Maybe I look as unhinged as I feel.

"Please, not right now. I can't," I say, stepping out into the hallway, grabbing my suitcases, and wheeling them into my room. The girls are still by their doors and I stop for a moment, looking over my shoulder. "We'll talk tomorrow."

It's the best I can do. Closing the door behind me, I lean against it and take a deep breath.

Everything is okay. Nothing bad is going to happen because Parker said magic and witches out loud—even though I've been taught to think that my whole life—as long as I keep my magic in check, I will be just fine. The others are not my concern. I can look after myself.

You have never lost control, Kennedy, and you're not about to now.

Repeating the words in my head, I take a few calming breaths as I get ready for bed. Making sure I focus on the tasks in front of me, I keep my thoughts firmly away from any memories that are threatening to rise to the surface. Yet, I can't turn off my aunt's voice. My whole childhood is shrouded in her fear of magic, pushing me to be a small version of myself. I place a hand against my chest as my heartbeat races again, my body remembering the pain I felt for three days locked in my room with no food. I was seven, fascinated by the way I could make sparkles appear above my hand. I only did it once, in our backyard, but she saw me.

I can still remember her shouting as she dragged me into the house, that I would bring ruin to our whole family if anyone ever saw me do that. That I would be taken from her, used and abused for someone else's gain, and I had to learn my lesson. She said she was being a good caretaker, that she was doing this for my own good. And I believed her. She was my family, after all. Ever since that day, I tried to follow her rules the best I could, but now all of that is blowing up in my face in the most spectacular fashion.

Taking out my hairbrush, I untangle my locks the best I can, trying to let the familiar task calm me. I wanted a shower, but I can't bring myself to go back out there again. I use travel napkins to clean up as best as I can before I collapse on the bed. I think I'll toss and turn, but instead, I simply pass out.