Page 18 of That Mafioso Magic
Adrian took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “All right,” he said, finally agreeing.
He placed his top half of the book on top of mine and at that moment, I felt something shoot through me. It wasn’t painful, but it was all-consuming. I couldn’t drop the book, my hands seemed to be sealed to the book, as were Adrian’s. Our bodies shook as both emblems on the book began to light up. I felt magic flowing into me, the pure energy from it, and somehow, I knew the same thing was happening to Adrian. The energy grew more intense as we were both overwhelmed by the book. Flashes of the past flowed into my mind, showing me a history that was lost to me.
It was a time way before my birth; a war between covens. Trust betrayed out of fear, two babies from the two covens were being sent away to safety and with each child, one half of the grimoire. Their dying mothers having to give their final farewells. The last of their line, the babies were. More and more images bombarded me as time passed and the descendants of those two babies were hunted and murdered. Each bore the mark of the dragon or the angel somewhere on their bodies. I saw the death of my father as he died choking on something he’d drank. The images continued to flow, telling their story until it ended with the dream Adrian and I had shared… this very moment.
When the book finally released us, we both collapsed to the floor, exhausted, drained of all our energy. My heart was thumping in my chest and my stomach churned. I felt nauseous and had to swallow hard to keep down the lunch I’d eaten earlier. By the way Adrien looked as he leaned against his desk, he was in the same shitty shape I was in. Sweat drenched our bodies and I was pretty sure he was as shaky as I was.
Neither of us could speak at the moment as we struggled to catch our breath. My body was humming from the surge of magic that had flowed into me, but my limbs were still weak. I looked at Adrian. I didn’t know how much more time passed between us before I was back to normal enough to speak. “Did you… feel the magic?” I asked. Everything around me felt like it was amplified; it was a sensory overload. I could smell more and hear even better than before, which was already exceptional because I was a shifter. I felt… stronger.
He nodded, then dragged himself up into the chair and turned to sit down, slouching. “And… and the visions… did you?”
I nodded. “I did.” The memory of seeing my father die stung like a million pin needles invading my flesh, heart, and soul. I had not known how my father died and I had only been a young boy when I’d lost him. My mother, who was a shifter, raised me within her pride and when I grew to be of age, I had to seek my own as the king of that pride grew too aggressive and possessive for me to stay. My mother died twenty years ago when that pride had a territory battle with a rival werewolf pack. I had no family left. I wiped a tear away from my cheek I didn’t realize I had shed. Then I looked at Adrian and he was crying too.
“Did you see the death of your family, too?” I asked him, then reached over, placing my hand over his, comforting him. “Are you okay?”
He nodded and wiped his eyes and face. “Of my grandmother. But why… what… what does it mean?”
I shook my head. “I… I don’t know.”
We sat quietly for about five more minutes until I was strong enough to sit in the chair beside him. He sat up straighter now, so I knew he was also feeling better. I looked at the book and it was complete as if it had never been separated.
“This shit is fucking crazy,” I said, pointing at the grimoire.
“It’s as if it was never split in two,” Adrian stated.
“So, should I open it up first or you?” I asked.
“You can do it,” he said.
“Just in case the book attacks?”
He shrugged. “I’m still feeling a little off, is all.”
I nodded, then leaned over, touching it first. I felt something spark in my fingertips, like a little static-electricity. But I knew it was just the connection I had with the book. It felt natural. I decided to open it up and this time, all fifty pages were accessible as I flipped through them. Adrian leaned forward, looking at the book with me.
“This is amazing,” Adrian said. “Where did you find your half of this book?” he asked me.
“Was given to me by my mother before I left the pride. I was sixteen. She said my father would want me to have it. That it was filled with spells I could use to protect myself. He died when I was five and I thought it was by accident in a fire. Because of those visions, I know it wasn’t. He was poisoned and the fire covered it up.” I shut my eyes tightly at the memory I now had of my father coughing up blood as the poison took him over. And in the background, several people in black cloaks stood by with torches. I could see it from his point of view, like all of the other visions had been. Through the eyes of our ancestors. It was apparent that not every member of my clan had the ability to manipulate magical elements, but those who did had all died at the hands of this cloaked enemy. I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Fuck, this shit is…”
“Too much, I know. I’m feeling overwhelmed myself,” Adrian said. “It’s all too… painful.”
I opened my eyes and nodded, then ran my hand over my hair, which was cut neatly in a fade. I looked at the book, then back to him. “And you? Where did you get yours?”
“My grandmother gave me my half. Told me it was a family heirloom, that it would protect me and that it had magic I could use.” Adrian scooted closer to the edge of his chair as he fingered through the pages. “One day, she went on a cruise for her birthday and never returned. There was an investigation, but the police just said she may have fallen overboard. No one heard or saw what happened to her. Her disappearance was ruled an accidental death at sea. But I saw through the vision what had happened. Someone in a mask stabbed her, then tossed her overboard to drown. I miss her so much.”
“When did that happen?” I asked.
“I was six years old. What’s worse is that my parents died in a car accident a year later. I didn’t have any family to take me, so I ended up in foster care, which had been the beginning of my nightmare.” Adrian closed his eyes as the pain of those memories invaded his mind, forcing him to relive them.
I frowned, because I didn’t like hearing that any part of Adrian’s life had been anything but ideal. “I’m sorry.”
He nodded slowly. “I didn’t see my parents’ deaths in any vision, so I guess their deaths really were an accident. I suppose that’s some relief. My grandmother did say that my mom couldn’t use magic like we could. She did teach me a spell or two, simple stuff like a light in the darkness, because she knew I was afraid of the dark.”
“Fuck, who are these people?” I didn’t know my grandparents, the only link I had to the mage clan was my father, but through the visions, I saw what had happened to them. Murdered in horrific ways just like my father had been and Adrian’s clan.
“Jesus Christ… This is a lot to learn at one time,” he said, then leaned forward, his head in his hands as if the weight of all that knowledge we’d gained was finally crashing down on him.
There was no shame in letting the tears flow. I wished I could take his pain away, but I couldn’t. I was nearly a hundred and fifty years old, and learning of my father’s murder angered more than sadden me as I’d had over a century to get over the pain of his loss. But with Adrian, he looked to be in his mid-twenties, so I was sure it was all still too fresh for him. Especially since the loss of his family resulted in a loveless situation with his foster life.
