Binds (8 page)

My eyebrows squinch together. “Okay, still not making any sense to me, Reece.”

“All right, I’ll give you some examples,” he says, seemingly unfazed by my lack of comprehension. “Cass is a moderate level Ascendant. She can do things like that—” he points to the stove where I am amazed to see a spoon stirring the soup all by itself, while Cass is placing hot sandwiches on a plate on the other side of the kitchen. “There are quite a few things she can do, but you won’t find her peeking around in your head like Spencer. She doesn’t have that kind of ability.”

“Hey, I’m still learning!” Cass interjects as she places the plate in front of us. “It’s not my fault that I grew up with a bunch of commons and was never trained properly,” she huffs.

“I never said it was, darlin’,” Reece says as he grabs a sandwich and takes a bite. “There is so much you’ll be able to do in time, but we both know you aren’t at Spencer’s level.” He gives her a placating smile, and she seems to get over her annoyance as she goes over to the cabinet to get out some bowls.

Reece begins again. “Now, take our techie friend Alberto Jenkins, or Jinx, as everyone refers to him. Jinx is a Natural. He was born with the gift of manipulating technology. If you give the guy any electronic gizmo, he will have it mastered within seconds. However, he will never be able to make a gorgeous woman fall to his mercy by putting her to sleep in the back of a car; he just doesn’t have the ability.”

“Oh, so, Naturals aren’t as powerful then?” I chime in, feeling like I am finally getting somewhere and turning red at his gorgeous woman comment.

“There are two schools of thought on that. Naturals are confined to one power. However, that one thing they can do is mastered better than the whole array of things an Ascendant can do. Also, they are protected from revealing themselves to other Mages with the spark. So, on one hand, limited ability, and on the other, the ability they possess is extremely powerful, and they can escape detection from other Mages.”

When I give him another quizzical look, he continues, “The spark is what an Ascendant gives off every time his body comes into contact with another Mage. It’s just a quick brush of power, but the stronger the Ascendant, the stronger the feeling. Naturals don’t give off the spark, but they can feel it from Ascendants.”

“Wait, that doesn’t make sense.” I shake my head. All of a sudden, I’m wondering if any of this is true. “You say that I am a Mage, and yet, I haven’t ever felt a spark off of anyone in my life.”

“That is curious.” Reece tilts his head slightly and studies me for a second, perplexed.

“It’s because of the Binds on her,” Spencer declares from the doorway, startling all of us, including Cass who was pouring soup into little white ceramic bowls. She spills a little at his words and turns to give him dagger eyes. They go unnoticed by Spencer as Reece starts to speak again.

“A Bind… of course,” he says, as if it should have been obvious. “Phee, you must have some strong ones on you if you can’t feel the spark, especially if you’ve touched Oberon in the past.”

“They are some of the strongest Binds I have ever seen,” Spencer states. “It’s going to take some work to get them off of her.” He’s looking at me again like I’m a mystery to him, and I don’t know why when there is no mystery left between us now.

Binds, schminds. I’m stuck on something else now. “You keep talking about this Oberon person. Who is he?”

“Your dear old dad,” Spencer says with what sounds like an antagonistic chuckle. Reece puts his sandwich down and makes a noise of derision.

“My dad?” I question.

“Well, he is a father to you, of sorts,” Spencer says quickly. When I don’t catch on he adds, “That would be your father-in-law.”

“My father-in-law?” I’m dumbfounded. Ronald Brand, Chancellor Brand is this Oberon character? No freaking way. I knew he was a tyrannical douchebag, but now to know that he is some super Mage? My fear has ratcheted up a few notches. I can’t imagine the evil crap the bastard has been up to with the use of magic.

Spencer and Reece are both looking at me now. I can feel their eyes on me, waiting to get my reaction from this nugget, but I am exhausted and at the point that not much is really going to be shocking me now. For cripes’ sake, I have just learned that I am one of those fantastical magical people who doesn’t know anything about how to use magic. What could surprise me now?

I decide to skip any more questions about Oberon, for now. I just want Reece to tell me about the reform policy, to finish my dinner, and for Spencer to go away so I can go crawl into bed. I act as if I don’t care about Spencer’s last statement and touch Reece on the arm, asking him, “So, tell me about the reform policy and these reformatories that were mentioned earlier.”

My body language is clear; I am turned away from Spencer and toward Reece because I want no further conversation from the smug, mind-stealing prick, so I miss the reason for the sudden tantrum that erupts out of him.

“Cass,” he snarls, “didn’t I instruct you to place Ophelia in the grey room next to mine?”

She nods her head breezily and goes back to cleaning up the orange mess on the counter.

“Then why have you taken it upon yourself to put her in the one next to you?”

“Oh, stow it,” Reece pipes in. “I told Cass to put her in the room down by ours. I think it’s best if she’s near Cass, in case she needs anything during the night.”

“Oh, you mean like some more ridiculous clothes?” Spencer asks.

Suddenly I am no longer hungry. The shame from this get up apparently has no end.

“I will explain about the reformatories tomorrow when we go on our little field trip, as well as get her some adult clothes and whatever else it is she will need. I want her in the grey room so that if Brand somehow finds us here, I can get her out in time.”

Reece bristles at Spencer’s words. “Are you trying to insinuate that you would be better able to protect her? You, who would have left her with Donovan to be abused again and again? Bull. Shit.”

Spencer works his jaw, seemingly trying to hold back a torrent. I have had it.

“Shut up, both of you!” I manage to screech out through my annoyance. “I’m flippin’ tired and I don’t give a rat’s ass about either of your posing. I’m going to go to sleep, and I’m going to do it in the room next to Cass because that is the only one that I know how to find. You two can stay here and fight about it until you’re blue in the face, kill each other, I don’t care!”

And with that, I stomp out of the kitchen and head to the tranquility of my cell. Just as I enter the room, it dawns on me—damn, I forgot to ask Reece what kind of Mage I am. That’s what happens when you go for the dramatic exit, you leave questions unanswered. Oh well, at this point, I’m so tired I don’t even care…much.

I awaken the next morning to find a pile of clothes and a pair of boots in front of my door and smile to myself thinking of Reece and how he came to my room last night after I stormed off. It warmed my heart that he would deliver the food that I had left behind. He came to apologize for the scene between Spencer and himself and to tell me that he was sorry for fighting over me like I was a piece of property.

“I’m sorry,” he had said. “It’s just that after the last two years of keeping surveillance on you, I kind of feel like it’s my job to protect you or something. It probably seems weird, some guy you don’t even really know acting all possessive like this. I know it’s sudden, but I see you as a friend already. You don’t know me much and I hope that changes, but I feel like I know you. I hope that you’ll see me as someone who is on your side. I silently watched you being hurt for so long and I just...I can’t sit on the sidelines and watch the same thing happen to you again.”

It took me by surprise and I couldn’t help the tears that had formed in my eyes. No one has cared for me like this since my mother died. I had thought Donovan did, but even as I look back on it now, he always seemed a little distant to me even when we were dating. He never would have made a declaration like that. It took two years of dating for him to even tell me he loved me. I told him five months in. I guess that should have tipped me off that there would be misfortune to come, but at the time, I just thought he was practical and careful with his heart. Now I know the truth, he never had a heart to begin with.

I smiled at Reece because it felt nice to finally feel as if I have a friend. I haven’t had anyone who I could give that title to in so long that I am practically jumping for joy at the thought of it. Reece’s hopeful eyes as he waited for my response, told me enough. He really is just a good guy looking out for me, and I am more than happy to let him.

“Of course we’ll be friends,” I told him and I meant it. Just by giving him those words, I felt some of the weight of loneliness come off of my shoulders. Finally having one other person in this world who cares feels like being tossed a scrap of food when you haven’t eaten in weeks and then having hope that you may just survive the famine after all.

Feeling real happiness for the first time in years, I bend over to retrieve the pile of clothes and grab the piece of lined notebook paper that’s folded into one of the boots and scowl. Written in block letters is,
Get dressed, get some breakfast, and meet me in the ops room.
There is no name signed to it, but I know it’s from Spencer. It makes sense as I rifle through what he has left—a pair of dark jeans, a white racer-back tank top, a black fitted jacket, and a pair of nude Calvin Klein bra and panties, all in my exact sizes. A case of the jitters breaks out down my spine, knowing how he gleaned the knowledge, but I pack it away in my box of things that I’m trying not to think about and shove it to the back of my mind.

I dress quickly and let my new black shit-kickers take me to the empty kitchen where, after digging around in a couple of cupboards, I am able to make myself a bowl of Oh’s and eat a banana before heading in the direction of the ops room. It is so eerily quiet that I am beginning to wonder if everyone deserted the place during the night, but I breathe a sigh of relief when I get closer and can hear the clicking that is Jinx at the computer.

Spencer is standing behind him, looking over Jinx’s shoulder at one of the monitors when I walk in. I clear my throat to get his attention.

“I know you’re there, Ophelia,” he says in his Mr. Know It All way. “Give me a minute.”

He goes back to whatever it is they’re looking at and Jinx says, “Everyone is in place. If you get there by ten, you’ll have front row seats to the show.” He smiles up at Spencer, and I notice the look of excitement and camaraderie that passes over Jinx’s face. Whenever Spencer started doling out the Kool-Aid for this merry little band of rebels, Jinx was probably the first to get in line. I wonder how a kid like Jinx got tangled up in this mess and where his family is. He can’t be more than eighteen or nineteen years old.

I’m startled out of my quandary by Spencer slapping Jinx on the back. “Great job, Jenkins,” he says. I can truly feel his sense of pride at whatever it is that Jinx has just accomplished. He turns to me. “Are you ready to get on the road? There’s a show we have to catch with a ten o’clock curtain call. Don’t want to be late.” He seems almost giddy but I’m not following.

“I thought you were going to be taking me to see a reformatory or whatever the heck a crumble is.” I’m keen to going out and seeing what I need to see, learning what I need to know, and getting back to my room and Reece and Cass. The less amount of time that I have to spend with Spencer one on one, the better.

“So eager for the truth, Ophelia,” he sneers. “I like it. We are going to see those things and more, but if I’m going to give you the truth, I’m going to give it all…well, as much as I am allowed to give. Made a deal with Reece last night and it looks like he is going to be teaching you, or trying to at least, how to use your powers. I will, however, be working with you to get as many of those Binds off as we can, but that will come later. Truth first.”

He smiles at me, a smile so wide I could probably count all of his teeth, and it dawns on me that he is really excited about something. I can feel his excitement coming off of him in waves as he puts his leather jacket on over another tight-fitting Henley, white this time, and pulls a set of keys out of the pocket of his worn, faded blue jeans.

“Let’s roll, Seminole,” he says and doesn’t even throw a goodbye in Jinx’s direction. I follow him out of the ops room and around to the other side of the apartment where there is a set of elevator doors. The thought of riding in the enclosed space with him is enough to make me break out in hives. He doesn’t notice my discomfort, or if he does, he doesn’t say anything as the doors close behind us and he presses the button for the garage. He starts whistling a tune; I recognize it as the theme song for the Andy Griffith show. My mom used to watch it when I was a kid and I liked it. It’s now the worst tune of all time.