Page 18

Chapter 18

An Earth-Shattering Situation

T he blood drains from my head in a dizzying rush.

Oh—shit.

“You’re going to turn and walk with me,” Oaklyn says slowly and clearly, her expression not inviting me to fuck around. “I’m going to keep my arm over your shoulders so you don’t get any ideas.”

My feet move on pure survival instinct, walking with her away from the building and in the opposite direction of where Natalie would have gone to get to Woodward.

My heart beats in my throat. How far did she get? Will she hear me if I scream?

As we descend a set of stairs and turn onto a paved walkway, students walk between classes all around us, absorbed in their headphones and conversations. The thought of screaming and drawing everyone’s attention is humiliating.

Even as the thought comes, I internally kick myself. How can I be concerned about being humiliated right now ?

“If you try anything, you’re going to get a fun lesson in earth magic,” Oaklyn murmurs in my ear, her breath warm on my neck.

A chill runs through me. I’m trapped.

Or am I?

Didn’t Natalie tell me the Madsens aren’t witches? Oaklyn might be lying to get me to cooperate.

Then again, she looks strong enough to pick me up and slam me down like a wrestling move, so earth magic or not, I’m not sure about my chances.

I close my fingers over my phone in my jacket pocket. I have to get a hold of Natalie.

“Before you do this,” I say, a quaver in my voice, “you should know that we tested my ability, and it’s useless. You’re going to be disappointed.”

She hesitates for the briefest moment. “Maybe your ability just needs to be coaxed out of you.”

I don’t like the sound of that. What does she mean by coax?

Brown plants line the walkway beside us, bald and dormant with lingering patches of snow between them. She guides me to a row of parked cars—and nausea rises inside me. I’m running out of time.

Ahead, a street sign says Wrong Way .

My inner voice shouts, I know!

I need a weapon, a plan, anything. Empty concrete planters with the ghosts of flowers sit too heavy to move. Classes have started, and nobody else is in sight. Why don’t I carry pepper spray?

“Silver Toyota,” Oaklyn says. “Back seat.”

She points me toward an FJ Cruiser, the kind of SUV where you have to open the front door in order to get into the back. I think they call that a suicide door. Fitting.

Worse, there’s a grate between the front and back, the type used to keep a dog contained. Once I’m in, there’ll be no hope of jumping out .

I am absolutely not getting in that car.

Adrenaline floods my veins. Time seems to slow as I make my move. I wrench away, twisting out of Oaklyn’s grasp. The straps of my backpack dig into my shoulders, a sharp tug as she tries to hold on, but I drop my arms and shrug out of it.

Free, I take off. One step, two, and no grabbing fingers haul me back. I race around a white sedan, yanking my phone out of my pocket and holding down the side button.

I raise it to my lips, shouting. “Call Natalie! Call Na—oof!”

Oaklyn’s arms encircle my waist. The pavement slams into me, sending shockwaves of pain up my wrists and knees. Air whooshes from my lungs. My phone clatters away. She’s freakishly strong, and with the fluid way she’s moving, she might be trained in martial arts.

Crap.

I kick wildly, my heels thumping against her. Her grip doesn’t loosen.

I suck in a breath to scream for help—but a sharp, cold point digs into my neck.

“Get up and stop struggling,” Oaklyn hisses.

My brain disconnects from my body. A blade is pressed to my skin. More than that, something is coiling around my neck like a noose.

“Okay, okay.” I stop thrashing, grabbing the tightening noose. My hands meet something cool, rough, and too uneven to be a rope. It smells like damp earth. What’s happening?

Distantly, Natalie’s voice comes out of my phone, which slid across the ground and bumped into the sedan’s tire. “Katie? Hello?”

“Shit,” Oaklyn whispers, looking at the phone.

Hope surging, I yank whatever is around my throat. It snaps at the back of my neck, coming free. I grab Oaklyn’s hand holding the blade and use all my strength to keep it away from me. “Natalie! It’s Oakl—”

Her knee hits my ribs, and I splutter, the wind knocked out of me. Everything spins as she wraps an arm around my neck and drags me toward the FJ. I gasp for air, choking in the crook of her elbow.

Dizzy, I fight back instinctively, kicking her shins, clawing, biting. Nothing works. She opens the car door and shoves me, my hip hitting the back seat.

“No!” I roar, bracing myself against it, refusing to go an inch further.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” someone shouts. A young Black man with a backpack rushes toward us, his eyes wide in alarm. “Let her go—”

Oaklyn releases me and punches him in the jaw. Hard. He crumples, unconscious before he hits the ground.

I shriek, using the seat for leverage to kick her in the gut with both feet. Maybe it’s adrenaline combined with fury over her knocking out someone who was trying to help, but my kick lands harder than expected.

Oaklyn slams into the sedan behind her, the breath knocked out of her. The car alarm erupts.

I leap out of the FJ and run.

I make it two strides when something trips me. My hands and knees crack against the pavement again. I cry out, pain and frustration bursting from my lips. How did she trip me from two steps back?

Then, above the car alarm, a groan reverberates through my bones. The ground rumbles.

Crrrack! The pavement splits in the middle of the parking lot, and dread grips me. What’s she doing now?

But Oaklyn screeches. She tries to stand as the ground shakes, only to fall back to her knees.

My skin prickles like a static charge has filled the air. My hair lifts, dancing in a sudden wind.

Hope crashes over me. This quake isn’t from her.

“Natalie!” I gasp .

At the end of the line of parked cars, Natalie stands with her fists clenched, her stance wide. Even from a distance, her eyes flash dangerously.

Awe fills me as she charges toward us. She made the earthquake. Now, as the tremors subside, she raises her hands, summoning a swirl of dust and pebbles that circles us like a tornado.

I scramble to my feet, backing away from the cars.

Natalie’s eyes narrow, focusing on Oaklyn. “You’ve graduated from theft to kidnapping, I see.”

“Whatever it takes to make you share.” Oaklyn slashes her dagger, and dark, fibrous ropes erupt from the tip, twisting through the air like snakes.

Roots. That’s what she wrapped around my neck. But… how?

A chill sweeps over me. I thought Oaklyn was lying about using earth magic.

Natalie’s face hardens. She swings her arm, and a boulder soars through the air, knocking the roots aside with a crack before they can reach her. The boulder slams into the pavement, shattering it. The roots smack against the sedan and leave dirty streaks.

I drop to my knees beside the guy who tried to help me, tapping his face. “Hey. Come on, you need to get out of here,” I whisper, checking over my shoulder.

Oaklyn swipes her dagger again, unleashing a knot of roots. Natalie counters with a chunk of pavement. They collide in an explosion of dust and dirt.

My mind is hazy, my balance unsteady. Grit stings my eyes and coats my throat.

A groan makes me jump. The young man’s eyelids flutter open, and he looks groggily past me. He can’t be any older than I am—a teenager in his first year of university .

“You need to run,” I tell him. “There’s something bad going on, and you can’t be here.”

Blinking, he takes in the cracked pavement, the roots, the boulders, and the two women facing off. Cracks, booms, and the whoosh of dirt and pebbles fill the air.

He stumbles to his feet, swaying. Mouthing in wordless terror, he covers his head and disappears through the swirling debris.

Nausea churns inside me. Did I compromise Natalie’s secrets? What if this guy tells someone what he saw?

This is all my fault. I should’ve listened to Natalie and stayed in class.

“Get behind me, Katie!” Natalie roars.

She swipes her arm, pelting Oaklyn with pebbles to block her from advancing. Oaklyn throws her arms up, and I leap over the fissure in the ground and run to Natalie.

With another swipe, she pulls a boulder in front of Oaklyn’s path. Oaklyn wraps roots around it, hauls it aside with a deep grinding noise, and advances, the roots undulating above her head like Medusa’s snakes.

Natalie waves her hand again, and a concrete planter grinds across the pavement. Oaklyn flicks her wrist, the roots tossing that aside too. She’s like a puppeteer, manipulating everything Natalie throws at her.

Only a car’s length separates them now. They’re both breathing hard, faces clammy, nostrils flaring. I’m two steps behind Natalie, unable to do anything useful. My skin prickles as her power intensifies.

“You’ve made a mistake, Oaklyn,” Natalie barks. “The Shadows have no choice but to come for you now.”

Oaklyn rolls her eyes. “Not the threat you think it is, sweetheart. Your junior spy club already caught up with us.”

Wait—the Shadows already found the Madsens? If Oaklyn is here, then where are they?

Natalie is quiet, maybe wondering the same thing .

Oaklyn sneers. She slashes the dagger, and the roots strike. Natalie reacts in a blink, sending a wave of pavement and dirt that lifts Oaklyn into the air before dropping her back to her knees.

Dust fills my mouth and nose, making me cough.

“Get in my car,” Natalie says, panting. Sweat glistens on her face, her hair coming loose from her bun. Her irises are purple like when she used magic in the alley.

Behind us, a gap opens in the swirling dust and pebbles, revealing her black car.

I back up a step. “M-my bag and phone are…”

She follows my gaze to where my belongings are scattered on the ground.

Oaklyn strikes, and Natalie slams the planter into her without mercy. Oaklyn screams in pain as she flies backward and hits the ground.

Fear grips me, tightening my chest. I thought I wanted to see everything Natalie could do, but this is beyond anything I imagined.

Natalie curls her fingers, and pieces of rubble nudge my bag and phone toward us. I force my legs to move and grab my stuff with numb, trembling hands.

Before Oaklyn can stand, Natalie hurls the boulder back at her, pinning her legs. Oaklyn’s shriek is a cry of genuine pain as the weight crushes her.

“Katie, go!” Natalie shouts, sprinting toward me.

We race to her car. Around us, the swirling dust dissipates.

As we get in and slam the doors, a heavy thud reverberates, and everything darkens. I scream. A mass of roots slides down the windshield and off the hood.

Even injured and with her legs pinned, Oaklyn is still fighting.

Natalie switches on the windshield wipers to clear the dirt and mud, and we speed away.

Our breaths roar from our lungs, the sound filling the vehicle .

I’m trembling all over. My back tingles where Oaklyn’s car pushed against it, a reminder of how close I was to getting forced inside. Even when I press the heels of my hands to my eyelids, I can still see the dark roots erupting from her dagger, and Natalie’s face twisting with rage as she sent boulders and concrete flying with a flick of her fingers.

“Katie?”

I flinch, sucking in a breath as I look at her. Icy fear floods my veins, cold sweat prickling under my clothes.

Natalie’s expression shatters me. Her brown eyes are wide with concern, her eyebrows arched. This is worse than making her angry—she’s scared, sad, a mix of everything I don’t want her to feel. And this is my fault for trying to follow her.

“You okay?” she murmurs beneath my ringing ears.

I nod automatically, but I’m not sure if I am. With shaking hands, I rub my neck where the roots wrapped around it, grit clinging to my fingers. “Y-you said the Madsens aren’t witches.”

“They aren’t.” Natalie’s knuckles tighten over the steering wheel, the leather groaning under her palms. “I have to talk to Fiona.”

“Oaklyn got a hold of a magical object?” I draw deep breaths to steady my shaky voice. Away from her, it was clear she wasn’t doing magic the same way as Natalie was. I recall the wild look in her eyes—dark eyes, not purple. Her power came from the dagger alone.

Natalie nods curtly, her jaw working. The silence rings as we weave through cars.

“Did she come into the classroom?” she asks.

I hesitate—and the pause says everything. She looks at me sharply, her nostrils flaring.

“I told you to stay there!” Her anger bursts from her lips.

I flinch. “I—I knew the second I left that I made the wrong decision.” My voice breaks as hot shame washes over me. “I was going to turn around and go back inside, but she was right there on the other side of the door, waiting for me.”

Natalie jerks her head, her brow furrowed. She weaves between cars and passes recklessly, taking us back to Gastown. “I never should have left you.”

“This isn’t on you. It’s not your job to keep me safe.”

“It is! I brought you into this messed-up world.” Her voice cracks, like she hates herself for this, and my heart breaks a little more. “Now I have to protect you from it—the Madsens, magic, curses—”

“Why, though?” I’ve stopped trembling, a spark of frustration igniting amid everything else. “Why are you so determined to stop me from helping you find curses?”

“Because they’re dangerous!”

“And? You work with them. Everyone you know works with them. I’m prepared to take the risk—”

“I don’t want someone I care about to get hurt!” Her voice fills the car, reverberating off every surface.

My insides flip over, like I’ve done a somersault off a high dive. “You care about me?”

She casts me a sidelong glance, and if I’m not mistaken, there’s panic in her eyes.

I don’t know what to make of this. Does she care about me in the way that I hope, or does she care about me the same way she would care about anyone who nearly got hurt by magic?

“Natalie… I don’t want to go back to my normal life.” My mouth is dry. I have to tell her what this all means to me—why I so badly want to help her find curses. Even if I have to open my heart and pour out all my insecurities. “I feel like I’ve finally found belonging, a purpose, something I’m good at. You asked if I’m an empath. I’ve always felt like I am, and it would make me good at helping people. I… I think this somehow relates to my ability to see curses. I sense things that other people can’t. Energy. Auras. Whatever you want to call it. I’m meant to do this.”

My throat seals up before I can go on—before I can tell her that I don’t want to go back to a life without her in it.

Natalie twists her grip on the wheel, restless. “I get it. I know you want to help, and I think you could. But you’ve seen what dark magic can do and how curses can escalate.”

“I understand what I would be getting into. My dad’s a firefighter. My mom’s a nurse. It’s kind of a family trait to do whatever it takes to help others.”

She falls quiet, taking us to her parking spot in Gastown. My memory tingles with the last time this happened, when we fled the other Madsen sibling. She’s determined to protect me, and I’m missing the real reason.

I don’t want someone I care about to get hurt.

Her confession lingers over us. A hunch drifts into my awareness like fog rolling in.

“Has someone you care about been hurt before?” I venture, my voice barely above a whisper.

She doesn’t answer right away. She shuts off the car, stares ahead, and speaks without meeting my eye. “My mom was a Guardian too. She was killed by a curse.”