Spellbound (Spellbringers Book 1) (13 page)

Might not last? For a second, my hopes soared,
but only for a second. Even though Jace was looking away from me, I
could still see the way his face lit up when he said Rachel’s name.
Of course their relationship would last. My heart ached in a way no
words could describe. Everything I feared had come to pass. I
couldn’t pretend anymore, couldn’t tell myself it was just a
passing infatuation. He was in love with her. I’d lost.

“Alisa,” Jace said, looking at me again. The
willpower it took to hold back my tears was more exhausting than
any training session Abe could dream up. “You’re my best friend and
that will never change. I would never let anything or anyone come
between us. Please get to know Rachel. She’s a good person. My
relationship with her doesn’t have to change our
friendship.”

I loved him too much to let him down. I didn’t
want to break his heart the way he’d shattered mine. “You’re right,
Jace.” I tried to control my quivering voice. The lies were flowing
like a rain-swollen creek. “I’m sorry I got so upset. I don’t want
to lose our friendship. I want you to be happy, but I don’t want to
see you get hurt.”

He stood up and pulled me out of the recliner
and into a bear hug. “You’ll see. We’ll be like the Three
Musketeers.”

I smiled, remembering the Three Musketeers
carried swords. Maybe Rachel would find herself on the wrong end of
one. No, I needed to be nice. Best friends didn’t kill the other’s
girlfriend.

Jace and I finally settled down to watch our
movie marathon, but the day was ruined for me. I was grateful for
the semi-darkness of the family room and for Jace’s absorption in
the movie, certain my thoughts and feelings were written all over
my face.

Rachel was everything I wasn’t and could never
be. She was intelligent and beautiful, but most importantly, she
was a Spellbringer. I wondered if Jerica would be pleased to accept
her into the family. After all, she was one of them. And I was the
girl destined to remain on the sidelines of my own life.

***

The first time Rachel, Jace, and I hung out
together was the worst. It got easier each time, but not much.
Knowing there were many times they were there without me didn’t
help. They held hands constantly and it was obvious they
communicated without words.

I hated the way Jerica looked at me now. I
could read the sympathy and compassion on her face and it made me
feel even more pathetic. If Jerica knew how I felt about her son,
then surely everyone must know. I hated the jealousy I felt each
time I looked at Rachel and Jace, and I hated the fact that
everyone knew how envious I was. Too bad Abe’s training sessions
didn’t include lessons on masking emotions.

On the rainy, chilly Saturday before
Christmas, the three of us were hanging out in Abe’s training
studio. Rachel, still ambivalent about training, watched as Jace
and I sparred. Jace was clearly distracted by Rachel’s presence,
and I’d managed to split his lip and bruise his cheekbone during
the half hour we’d been practicing. The more he glanced over at
Rachel, the more competitive I became.

I was so intent on taking Jace down, I didn’t
notice the footsteps coming down the stairs. Jace turned his head
to look at the staircase just as I planted my foot in his stomach.
The wind knocked out of him, he fell on his backside,
grunting.

Deep laughter diverted my attention. “That’s
my little brother getting his butt kicked by a girl.” My gaze
settled on Bryce’s mocking grin. He was still laughing at Jace, but
a strange look flickered across his face when he glanced at
me.

“Mikael, this is Alisa. She’s a friend of the
family.” Bryce introduced me to a tall, blond, attractive man who
looked like he was in his early twenties. I barely had a chance to
nod before they turned toward Rachel.

“This must be Jace’s new girlfriend.” Bryce
reached his hand out to shake hers. “I’m Bryce. This is my training
partner, Mikael.”

I hated Bryce for labeling Rachel as Jace’s
girlfriend and for seeming to accept her so easily. I wondered if I
could kick him in the stomach, or if that would be construed as an
act of hostility.

Smiling at the thought of wiping the floor
with Bryce’s face, I realized too late that the attractive stranger
must have believed I was beaming at him. My face reddened when he
winked at me. I mumbled something about helping Jerica in the
kitchen and made a hasty retreat upstairs.

“Hi, Alisa.” Jerica smiled as I entered the
kitchen. “Did you beat the mess out of my son?”

“Yes, I thought I’d help you out in here while
he recuperates.” I quickly washed and dried my hands. No need to
get Jace’s blood in the supper. “What can I do to help?”

“I’ve got it under control, I think,” Jerica
said. “But if you want to help me make a salad, that would be nice.
You’re staying for dinner aren’t you?”

“Um, I guess.” I didn’t do well with new
people, and Bryce’s friend made me nervous. So did Bryce. Jerica
and I worked side by side until we heard a ruckus coming our
way.

“I wish Jace had half the focus and intensity
Alisa has,” Abe said as he entered the kitchen, Bryce and Mikael in
tow. “This is the third time she’s bested him this month. The boy
needs to get his head out of the clouds.”

“I think I know where his head is,” Bryce
said.

“All right, boys,” Jerica scolded. “Be nice.
Bryce, don’t talk about your brother in front of his friend and our
guest. Abraham, you know better.” She waved her knife at him to
make her point.

“Yes ma’am.” Bryce flashed a wicked grin at
his father.

I noticed he had the same crooked smile that
endeared me to his younger brother. Funny, the same smile didn’t
have the same effect coming from Bryce.

The kitchen suddenly seemed very crowded and I
felt self conscious to the extreme. Jerica offered drinks to the
three intruders and invited them to sit down at the table. “Mikael,
we’re so glad to have you for the holidays.”

“I’m honored to be here. Thank you so much for
inviting me to your home.”

“How are your parents? I haven’t seen them in
years,” Jerica said. “Are they still in France?”

“They’re currently in Italy,” Mikael replied,
“but with Father’s new position, I believe they’ll be moving to
Norway soon.”

I adored his accent. What was it about foreign
accents that made a man so appealing? I dared to glance up at him,
and met his gorgeous blue eyes. I blushed and looked away, my gaze
landing on Bryce. He looked at me speculatively.

Dinner that evening was unnerving. It seemed
like everyone was communicating on a different wavelength. Even
Rachel seemed subdued. She and Jace carried on a conversation
consisting of brief hand touches and deep, searching gazes. They
would nod almost imperceptibly as they came to an agreement on
various matters of silent discussion or debate.

I also noticed the same sort of
interaction between Abe and Jerica, although their silent
communication was based on years of marriage rather than a psychic
connection, I believed. I intercepted numerous meaningful looks and
eye twitches. Bryce was quiet and watchful. There were several
times I noticed him observing the interplay between Rachel and
Jace. A few times, I caught him watching me.
Oh great. Bryce probably knows about my crush on Jace. He
must think I’m a total joke.

Bryce’s guest talked about anything and
everything with only occasional prompting from Jerica and Abe. He
was oblivious to the silent communication flying around the room
and seemed unaware of the fact that he was pretty much the only one
talking. He continued his constant stream of dialogue through
dinner and into dessert. It was by far the weirdest meal I’d ever
been a part of, and that said a lot considering I regularly dined
with a family of Spellbringers.

When Abe, Rachel, and the boys drifted off to
the living room, I gladly stayed behind to help Jerica clean the
kitchen while she finished up some baking. I was relieved to be
left alone with my own thoughts. Jerica was silent as she measured
and mixed ingredients, which was unusual for her. At last she
turned to me and spoke.

“Be patient with my son, Alisa.” Her
expression was unreadable. “He can be difficult, but he’s worth
it.”

I was floored. What was she trying
to tell me? I had a feeling that sometimes Jerica was able to see
into the future, that her intuition was more than it seemed. Did
she see that Jace and I would eventually end up together? It didn’t
make sense. I’d been under the impression she didn’t want to see me
and Jace together—not in
that
way.

“What do you…?” I started to ask.

Jerica cut me off with a wave of her hand.
“Honey, I’ve already said too much. I’m not going to be one of
those interfering mothers. Just remember what I said, exactly as I
said it. Don’t read anything into it because it may not mean what
you think.”

What? Who? Jerica had completely and totally
confused me. Since when was she so cryptic? I could tell she wanted
to say more, but held back.

With my thoughts in a jumble, I followed
Jerica out to the living room. I remembered her plea to remain
patient as my gaze fell on Rachel and Jace seated together on the
sofa, lost in a world of their own. Irritation bubbled up to the
surface as I watched them. I tried to conjure up the spirit of
Christmas, but was unsuccessful. The only thing I managed to
conjure was the strong desire to drag Jace to the basement and beat
him senseless. Abe could call it training. I called it anger
management.

Bryce interrupted my bloodthirsty fantasies.
“So, Alisa. Dad tells me you and Jace actually beat him and my mom
in tennis. Tell me it isn’t true.” He pulled his face into an
expression of fake devastation.

“It
is
true. And you’re next,” I said.
“We’ve been training for weeks. It’ll be a total
annihilation.”

Bryce laughed. “What can I do to convince you
to join my team? You’ve already proven yourself superior in the
sparring ring. Abandon him and together we can rule the tennis
court.”

I spared a quick glance at Jace. He was so
wrapped up in Rachel, he didn’t notice the lighthearted bantering
between his brother and me, or Bryce’s attempt to steal his tennis
partner. “Your offer tempts me, I must admit. But what sort of
tennis player abandons her partner?”

“A tennis player who wants to win,” Bryce
replied. “I wonder, though, if you could beat me downstairs. No
magic, of course.”

My cheeks burned with humiliation. It irked me
to be reminded I was not truly an equal in this house. I was the
only person here who did not possess magic and I silently cursed
Bryce for pointing it out. For some reason, I was embarrassed that
my lack of special ability was pointed out so blatantly in front of
Mikael. A look of confusion passed across his face.

“She’s not one of us,” Bryce said in response
to Mikael’s unasked question. Jerica gasped. Before she or Abe
could reprimand their son, I spoke up.

Anger ripped through me and it was because of
this completely irrational emotion that I agreed to do what I was
about to do. “I don’t know, Bryce. You may need that magic after
all. Let’s go.” I started toward the stairs with Bryce on my
heels.

“Stop right there,” Jerica called out. “We do
not use the training room to settle disputes in this
house.”

“Your mother’s right.” Abe
didn’t
look
as if
he agreed at all. He was geared up for some competition. “We’ll
just go downstairs and run a few drills to work off all that
energy.” A timer sounded and Jerica disappeared into the kitchen.
“Don’t let your mother find out,” Abe said softly.

I headed for the stairs again. Bryce placed
his hand on my shoulder. “I didn’t mean it to come out like that,”
he whispered. “I was just messing with you. We don’t need to do
this.”

“You meant it, and yes we do,” I hissed back.
I started down the stairs. Bryce had no choice but to follow. Jace,
Rachel, and Mikael followed out of curiosity and a thirst for
violence.

“It’s getting pretty late, kids,” Abe
announced, descending the staircase right behind us. Clearly he was
having second thoughts. I imagined Jerica could be pretty scary
when crossed. “Maybe we should postpone this. We can do it some
other time.”

“Don’t worry. This shouldn’t take long.” My
confidence sounded false even to my own ears. I removed my
sweatshirt and stood before Bryce in a tank top and leggings. I
kicked my shoes into the corner. Reading the expression on his
face, I hissed, “Don’t you dare try to take it easy on
me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Bryce said. “When I
play, I play to win.”

We faced each other across the lightly padded
mat in the middle of the concrete basement floor. Circling slowly,
we didn’t take our eyes off each other. I allowed the anger and
rage to flow through me, to burn in my veins. Anger at the way I’d
been treated my entire life—by my family, my classmates, Becky,
Rachel, everyone. Anger at Jace and his rejection. Anger toward
Bryce for his unyielding refusal to accept me as an equal. All my
life, I’d felt as if I wasn’t good enough. Well, no more. My anger
had been growing over the last few weeks, maybe longer. It was time
to harness that rage and use it as fuel.