Page 2 of Magic Claimed
Kes let out a high-pitched yelp of surprise. Ethan’s eyes flew open, and the flames doubled in size as he struggled to orient himself. A golden glow rolled across his irises, his magic reacting to a perceived threat as he turned his head towards us…
I heard a tiny pop, and then it was officially too late for damage control. The sprinkler system activated, and our living room was abruptly flooded with a high-pressure deluge of cold water.
Kes shrieked, Ethan scrambled to his feet, and the flames died, either from his own effort or the effect of sixty gallons of water per minute dousing every surface in theroom.
“We need to leave,” I called out over the sounds of the fire alarm and the rushing water.
Ethan blinked at me—still half-asleep and disoriented—but Kes seemed to recognize the urgency. She took his arm and tugged him towards the door, while I paused just long enough to rescue our phones and the kids’ tablets.
Thankfully, Logan was also gone for the weekend—spending a few days with Faris and Morghaine—so all that was left was to grab our jackets from the hooks in the utility room and then head out into the hallway to join the small crowd of terrified residents streaming towards the stairs.
I could tell when they noticed our wet clothing. Saw the sidelong glances. Heard the mutters, and sensed the distance opening up between us as we made our way down six flights of stairs and through the emergency exit door.
The January wind hit us even harder than the ground in my dream, stealing my breath away as it cut right through my soaking wet clothing.
That part, at least, I could fix, and as the three of us drew together a short distance from the rest of the residents, I reached out with my elemental power and tugged at the water that soaked us from head to toe.
I no longer had to close my eyes to sense or manipulate water. Sometimes I still did to help my focus, but after spending the past week practicing with every spare minute I could find, the pastel landscape of my water magic seemed to overlay the mundane world whenever I chose to see it. It was a simple matter to sweep those colors together and urge them into anearby drain, while hoping that the darkness would conceal my actions from my already disgruntled neighbors.
Once we were dry, I handed Kes her jacket and offered one to Ethan, but he shrugged away from me, his head down and his shoulders hunched.
“We aren’t mad.” I was careful to keep both my words and my tone as gentle as possible, but he still flinched. “It’s nothing we can’t fix.”
Though it was my own turn to flinch when I thought about the damages. The fire hadn’t lasted long enough to cause much harm, but the sprinklers… By the time the fire department arrived to shut them off, the water would likely have already destroyed the drywall and most of the floor. Even worse, it would probably seep down into the apartment below ours, ruining walls, cabinets, ceilings, and who knew what else for our unfortunate downstairs neighbors.
On the one hand, it was comforting to know that the owner of our building was a friend and probably wouldn’t evict us. Faris always kept a few of the apartments open for any of his employees who found themselves in need of short-term housing, and he’d told us we were welcome to stay until we were able to afford our own place.
On the other hand, Faris was not going to be happy, and I wouldn’t blame him. We’d promised him that Ethan would be safe around others. That we could keep his magic from flaring out of control. And we’d been successful so far—we just hadn’t accounted for the possibility that he could use magic in his sleep.
Now Faris was about to be faced with angry residents—many of them human—a lengthy restoration project, and probably higher insurance rates. All of this on top of everything else he was dealing with, including fines for “health code violations,” a newly suspicious city government, and worst of all?
A postponed wedding.
My friend Kira was supposed to have gotten married tonight. She and her mate, Draven, were already committed to each other in the way of shapeshifters, but she’d wanted a human ceremony, and we’d been planning it for months.
Faris had closed down The Portal for two days to prepare for the event, and the entire staff had been scheduled to help decorate the popular Idrian nightclub from the floors to the rafters with flowers and lights. We’d planned out the food, the music, and even how to keep the wildly diverse guest list from accidentally destroying half of downtown after a little too much fae liquor.
Even now, The Portal should have been crowded with family and friends, food and drinks, laughter and dancing. Instead, it was shuttered and dark—the ceremony postponed and the party cancelled. And instead of joyful celebration, everyone who knew Kira was left wondering whether Draven was safe, or the Fae Court had swallowed him up forever.
Thankfully, I didn’t have long to wallow in gloom. Only a few more moments passed before my sensitive shapeshifter hearing caught the distant wail of sirens approaching, and as they grew louder, I felt the tension in my shoulders start to ease. Once the fire department shut off the water, I could sneak back in and begin removing the worst of it, hopefully mitigating thedamage without any of our human neighbors realizing what I’d done.
“I was right,” Ethan muttered, eyes on his feet, his straight, dark hair falling across his face so I couldn’t see his expression. “I’ll never be safe. You’ll never be safe when you’re with me. And you knew it, or you wouldn’t have sent the children away.”
I folded my arms across my chest to stave off the cold and regarded him steadily, choosing my words with care. Hoping I wasn’t about to mess up, just as I always seemed to do with Logan and Ari.
Ethan was older than either of them—I wasn’t sure of his exact age, but probably in his early twenties—yet he seemed much younger sometimes. Whether that was due to trauma from his years in the fae prison or some other factor, I couldn’t be certain, but I felt entirely out of my depth trying to help him. He needed us—that much I knew—but most days it seemed that all we could do for him was remind him that he deserved to live. That he deserved to have a home and a family. Deserved to experience love and acceptance just like everyone else.
“Ethan, I didn’t send them anywhere. Kira is feeling down and needed a distraction, so she asked to have Ari over so they could watch cartoons and paint their nails and eat sugar. Logan is… well, he’s thirteen, and that’s hard even for normal teenagers, so Faris offered to spend the weekend with him doing guy things.”
Whatever that meant. I suspected Faris needed the distraction just as much as Kira did. Kira was his daughter in every way that mattered, so he’d been looking grim all week as he watched her worry. And the normallyeffervescent dragon shifter was trying to stay positive, but rarely smiled the past few days, even while desperately pretending she was okay.
So when she begged me to let Ari sleep over? I’d hesitated only a moment before saying yes, hoping that Ari’s chaos could help distract her from her fears.
And while I hated that the people I cared about were dealing with so much right now, I was also deeply grateful for a break—a single night without lying awake wondering if Ari was safe or whether Logan resented me.
Ari, at least, seemed happy, but Logan had been struggling with increasingly volatile moods. Between asserting his independence, reminding us we weren’t actually his parents, and occasionally threatening to use his earth magic to get what he wanted, I was at a bit of a loss how to handle this phase.
But who could blame him? He’d had no normal childhood. No actual parents or family to ground him. We had no clue what he’d been through before the fae prison, and while Kes and I did our best, there was only so much parenting we were capable of. We were both in our twenties, and neither of us had great families either, so I was only too thankful to have someone like Faris to step in and help.
