“Oh, absolutely.” Tatyana sighed, running a hand through her blonde hair. “I’m still not getting this whole Children of Chaos thing, though. How does Katherine plan to do that? And what does she need magical kids for?”
Astrid shrugged. “I gave Smartie a search using the ‘Child of Chaos’ term, but there’s nothing consistent coming through. I’ll keep looking, but so far there’s nothing on how to become one.”
“As for the young magicals, Katherine probably needs some muscle for her own private army, who knows?” I said, trying to measure my breathing.
“What happened with Dylan? And Damian?” Wade asked.
Tatyana hesitated, and her grief hit me right in the solar plexus. Despite that, she continued to explain everything in detail.
“What curse did Kenneth use?” Tobe replied, keeping his eyes on Dylan.
Damian was getting tired, but Dylan was still squirming in his restraints while slamming his shoulder into the glass box. It felt horrible to see them like this, and the helplessness we all felt was quite difficult for me to handle. I hadn’t experienced such grief and frustration since the gargoyle incident.
“Magicis, ecce ego bestia tua,” Tatyana repeated the hex words.
“That’s forbidden magic!” Tobe gasped. “Good grief, how did that boy get his hands on such a spell? It’s illegal!”
“I know,” Tatyana replied. “It’s a very ugly mystery.”
Alton arrived, concern etched into his expression. “Maybe the Ryder twins gave it to him.”
I was relieved to see Alton. There was something about his presence that seemed to have a calming effect on my senses, sometimes. It had to do with his tranquil nature. He never caved in, always searching for the solution, rather than allowing himself to be consumed by the problem.
I sensed his sorrow as he looked at Dylan, then Damian.
“Oh, it’s definitely related to the Ryder twins,” Astrid interjected, her eyes wide as she stared at the screen. She’d found something. “Emily and Emmett Ryder, born May 1, 1988, in Rio Grande, Texas. No records of their parents, but they were in the foster system for a while, before they were picked up by the Houston Coven.”
“Wait, your mom’s the director there, isn’t she?” I asked Wade.
He nodded. “Yes. I’ll call her later and find out if she knows anything. Not every archive in the covens was transferred into the magical population’s electronic database. There’ll be hard copies somewhere.”
The magical population’s electronic database was different from our library archives, which had been secured in their hard copy formats after a hacking incident, according to Wade. The electronic database contained all our information, much like the US government’s records—only ours came with the results of our Readings and various tailored reports, depending on whether there were suspicious or criminal activities involved. Astrid could even put the equivalent of a BOLO out for the Ryders, and I knew it was literally the next item on her to-do list. All the US covens had access to the electronic database, and, sometimes, information from there was shared with non-US covens, if needed.
“What else can you tell us about them?” Alton replied, looking at Astrid.
She swiped across the tablet screen, her brow furrowed as she skimmed the information. “They weren’t in the Houston Coven for long. They were kicked out for antisocial behavior. They’d been warned repeatedly. They were both transferred to the Phoenix Coven, but they just caused more trouble there, and some humans got hurt in the process. Someone in the Phoenix Coven took pity on them, from what I can see, because they had them moved to the Albuquerque Coven, instead of penalizing them. But they were just as bad there. They kept stirring up trouble between the magicals, mostly, pitting them against one another.”
“That doesn’t speak in their favor,” Alton muttered, crossing his arms. “I’ll reach out to Phoenix and Albuquerque for more records, then.”
“It doesn’t end well,” Astrid replied. “They were kicked out of Albuquerque, too, but they were separated. Emmett was supposed to go to Miami, and Emily was transferred to Seattle.”
“Opposite sides of the country,” I said. “They probably figured they wouldn’t cause as much trouble if they were kept apart.”
“And they didn’t want to jail them, either,” Alton concluded. “I suppose there were only misdemeanors.”
“Humans getting hurt is a misdemeanor?” I asked, clearly skeptical.
Alton nodded. “They mostly got only scratches. We consider it a misdemeanor if there’s no proof of intent to harm humans. They were most likely accidental collateral damage, and I presume their memories were wiped.”
“There was a lot of circumstantial evidence, too,” Astrid explained. “As per coven regulations, they were entitled to a defense attorney, and the ones they had in each situation were well paid and very good at their jobs. In some cases, they made it out to be the other magicals’ fault, portraying the Ryders as the real victims, being bullied and whatnot.”
That, to me, smelled extremely fishy. “Hold on. Foster system magicals got their hands on good legal defense? That costs money. Right?”
Alton nodded. “Yes. It’s one of the best-paid jobs in our world, actually. Our legal system is similar to that of the humans, and we litigate pretty much everything on the criminal spectrum. I think the covens will have all the court transcripts for each case. I’ll check with them, maybe find out who their solicitors were.”
“Either way, they never made it to Miami or Seattle,” Astrid said. “They vanished. Fell off the radar completely. They just… slipped through the cracks, I think. Look, these are their most recent photos,” she added, showing us the tablet screen.
I committed their faces to memory. They were attractive and young, in their mid-twenties at the time. The similarities were there—the black hair and brown, almond-shaped eyes, oval faces and slim noses. Emily had the long hair, though, while Emmett’s was short. It didn’t make sense to me, since Linda had given us a different description.
There was mischief twinkling in their eyes, but nothing that screamed “sociopath” or “criminal.” They smiled at the camera, as if they knew what was going to happen next. As if they knew they were never going to make it to Seattle or Miami.
“The Travis couple described them as in their early twenties, though,” Tatyana said. “They’re in their late twenties, according to their files.”
“They probably still look very young for their age. It’s not uncommon,” Alton replied.
“Oh, yeah, with a good skin routine and proper moisturizer, you can cheat time for a few decades,” Astrid said.
My heart was filled with affection—all bright and warm and fuzzy. It took me a few seconds to identify it as Alton’s, as he fondly watched Astrid swipe through her files. She’d been with the coven for three years now, almost the same as Alton. Bonds were bound to happen, and I, like the others on my Rag Team, didn’t know much about Alton’s personal life, other than the fact that he was married to Isabel Monroe—whom I’d recently found out about. She was a magical, too, though she didn’t do much work for them. She was on the Fleet Science Center’s board of directors and collaborated with some local charities. I also knew that she and Alton didn’t have kids. Maybe we were the kids.
“I’ll refine my system search with this new info and the images as parameters,” Astrid added. “I’ll check every CCTV and social media post from the San Diego area. They’re bound to pop up somewhere, at some point. Smartie’s facial recognition software is sharp.”
“In the meantime, we’ve got a little bit of work cut out for us,” Alton said, glancing at Dylan and Damian again. “I know this curse. It’s called the Curse of the Magical Beast. It brings out the most feral side of us, witches and warlocks in particular. It works on humans, too, but, as you can see, Damian is already worn out. Dylan, on the other hand…”
As if knowing we were talking about him, Dylan growled and rammed into the glass again. He was simply unrecognizable, and it tore Tatyana apart.
“How do we fix him?” she asked.
“There’s a cure,” Alton replied. “This is rare and ancient magic. I actually know the curse; it’s written in one of the Grimoires in our coven. I’ll need to check the Grimoires in the Forbidden Section for the cure. But I know it’ll need to be administered orally. One of us needs to go in there and do it.”
Tobe nodded. “I’ve had my share of monster wrestling. I can take him.”
Looking at Dylan, I couldn’t help but wonder what had driven a kid like Kenneth to go dark-side like that, and how the Ryder twins had gotten their hands on such powerful spell work. This was ancient, heavy-duty, evil stuff, and most, if not all of it, was kept under magical lock and key in the covens. How easy would it be for someone to just walk into one of the Forbidden Sections and snatch such hexes?
They must’ve had inside help.
Eleven
Tatyana
Ever since Dylan came to the San Diego Coven, I’d had a bit of a soft spot for him. He was so… different from the others. He didn’t look like he belonged here, with his short brown hair, cleft chin, and varsity jacket. He was the typical jock, lover of sports and weekends at the beach. His warm brown eyes spoke of summer barbecues and athletic scholarships at some Ivy League school, not of Chaos and magic and covens.
He always seemed out of his element, too. He didn’t socialize much, and he was the first to rush out at the end of the week to see his mom and hang out with his college buddies. The coven, to him, was more like a job. He spent most of the afternoons and nights here, with magical training and whatever missions he was assigned to. The mornings were always for college. He valued his academic education, that much was obvious, and was still regretting his decision to stay here, instead of going to Yale. He’d had a full ride for that, but the local coven was still catching some serious heat for bad magical behavior, and Dylan had yet to fully control his abilities.