“So… We just traveled through a wormhole.”
“More like tumbled,” she replied, her lips stretching into a smirk. There was so much of her that reminded me of my father, I could almost feel my heart tearing. “Harley, there isn’t much time. You need to jump in the first cab and head straight for the coven. You are much safer there.”
“Yeah… No. Not until you tell me what the hell is going on,” I shot back. “Have you been following me?”
She sighed. “I’ve been watching you for a while,” she said. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to you sooner, but I’m a wanted magical, Harley, and not by the covens. Dark forces are at work, and they’re after my Portal ability. I’m extremely valuable to certain people, and my portals could lead to many unnecessary deaths if I let them take me, which is why I’ve been under the radar and presumed dead.”
I nodded slowly. I supposed I could understand the reasoning behind her decision to vanish. It didn’t make me feel any better, but I could see how a magical like her could be used by the likes of the Ryder twins—or, worse, Katherine Shipton.
“How long have you been tailing me?” I asked.
“Since you came to the coven. The moment you were discovered I had eyes on you. I have friends there and in many other places… quiet, discreet people who know how to send me a message when my attention is required,” she explained. “I’ve kept my distance for your own safety. We can’t be together in the same place at once for too long, Harley. My very presence puts you in even more danger. You’ve got your plate full enough as it is.”
“Those were the Ryder twins back there. Do you know them?” I asked.
She nodded. “I’ve seen them before. They’ve never met me. They’ve been looking for me, but I’m old and seasoned enough to steer clear of them. They were after you, Harley. Katherine is like a cat, now, playing with her food. You’re her dinner.”
Anger and grief blazed through me. Some of it was mine, but Isadora shared my feelings. We’d both lost family because of that witch. But then it hit me: Isadora just confirmed the connection we’d been suspecting already.
“So, the Ryder twins are working with Katherine Shipton,” I concluded.
“Yes. She’s the one who stopped them from showing up at their new covens. She recruited them,” Isadora said. “She’s planning something, and the Ryders have a role in it. So do the young magicals that were abducted. Some joined her willingly.”
“Kenneth Willow,” I murmured.
“That’s right. She’s gathering an army of rogue or undiscovered magicals. She’s reaching out to the new ones who have just moved to San Diego, as well. She’s trying to get the Neutrals on her side, too. And the Ryders are just some of her recruiters. She’s got spies infiltrating most covens, including yours. Eyes and ears everywhere. I’ve been trying to find out who’s working for her, but they’re all very good at covering their tracks,” she replied.
“They’ve been leaving cards for us,” I said.
“I know. They’re a message to you, specifically, Harley. They want you to know what they’re doing. They want you to know you can’t stop them. It’s psychological warfare. They’re trying to get into your head and destroy your morale. They’re doing it because they’re afraid of you. Katherine wants you to suffer. She wants you dead. Not because you mean much to her—no one was ever worth much in her life. You’re a problem she needs to get out of the way.”
“But why? I don’t even know where she is!”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re smart and inquisitive. You’re determined and ambitious. And, Harley, the power inside you… it scares her.”
I scoffed. “I’m suppressed.”
“I know, Harley. I’m the one who helped your father with the Dempsey Suppressor.”
My blood ran cold. “Wait, what? You were in on that?! Why’d you let him do that?!”
She sighed. “We had no choice at the time, Harley. You were like a little nuclear reactor, incredibly easy to detect. Your abilities were already manifesting. We had to do whatever we could to keep you safe and hidden. Katherine was on the loose, your father was a wanted man… You weren’t going to live if you were found at the time. I’m sorry,” she replied, then put her hands on my shoulders. “I promise, I’ll come find you, and we’ll talk about everything. I will answer all your questions in due time. Right now, you need to go. The Ryders will be getting out of that time lapse in a few minutes, and they’ll be looking for you. The one thing they’ve been unable to do is get close enough to kill you. Tonight, they almost succeeded.”
I thought about it for a moment, trying to wrap my head around this new and troubling development.
“When will I see you again?” I asked, afraid to let her go.
“I’m not sure, Harley. There’s something I need to take care of, first. People to see. Some things to put in place,” she said.
“Did you know about Jacob and the Smiths?”
“I did, yes. Jacob is extremely rare and valuable, as well. He’s got the street smarts he needs to keep a low profile. The Ryders don’t know about him. They want you. You’re their next target.”
“How do you know all this?” I replied.
“I’ve been trailing this whole operation for years, now, Harley. As best as I could, anyway. I don’t have all the facts yet. I knew it was only a matter of time before Katherine would resurface again. Finch was just the beginning,” she explained. “She’ll be testing you, poking and prodding until she gets a chance to kill you. So, please, I may not have been around for most of your life, and I will never forgive myself for having had to keep my distance, but… Please, just listen to me on this. Go back to the coven and watch your back.”
My throat tightened. “What about Jacob? I’m afraid to leave him with the Smiths, especially after the Cranstons.”
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” she said, giving me a reassuring smile. “You keep doing your job and helping the coven. You’ve got a good team working with you. I think you’re all more than capable of taking the Ryders down. But don’t do it alone. Don’t go anywhere alone, either. It’s for the best.”
“I… I don’t know what to say,” I breathed.
A taxi pulled over just fifty yards away, on one of the roads that outlined Waterfront Park. The driver honked twice. Isadora exhaled, seeming to recognize the guy behind the wheel.
“That’s your ride, Harley. Go,” she said.
I frowned. “Huh? You already called me a cab?”
“He’s one of my go-to guys,” she replied. “His name is Dicky, and he’s very efficient. He’ll give you his card, if you need to use his services in the future.”
“Wait, is he human or magical?” I asked.
“Human.”
“And he knows about us?” I croaked, making her laugh.
“Relax, Harley. He’s good. Don’t worry about it. Just go, honey, please.”
I glanced over my shoulder, checking the car. The engine was on, and the driver was gazing straight ahead, patiently waiting.
“What really happened to my mom and dad?” I asked Isadora, my voice shaky. “I need to know.”
“Don’t believe everything you’ve read in the newspapers,” Isadora replied bluntly. “I can’t tell you much right now, but I can point you in the right direction. There’s a curse, an ancient spell called Sál Vinna. Look it up. You’ll understand more once you read about it. Now, go!”
She stepped back, then put her hand out. Her ring lit up green once more as she opened another portal—this time, the slit was longer and vertical. I had a feeling the quality of the wormhole depended on how much time she had to open one. Back by the bus stop, she’d only had a second to work with, before the Ryder twins came after us.
“I’ll see you soon, I promise,” she said, and vanished into the wormhole.
The air rippled as the portal dissipated, leaving me all by myself on the edge of Waterfront Park.
The taxi honked again.
It was time to go.
Twenty-Five
Harley
Dicky was surprisingly quiet. I figured it must’ve been one of the reasons Isadora kept him around. After everything I’d witnessed, I found it difficult to think any human could really deal with the magical world. Sure, some of the foster parents we’d met were aware that their kids were special, but that didn’t mean they were anywhere near ready to accept the existence of an entire secret society. Hell, the Cranstons had just been killed because they were raising a magical son.
Yet as Dicky drove his cab down the streets of San Diego, he felt calm and serene. He wasn’t terrified of me. He seemed wary, at most—probably his survival instinct still adjusting to our existence, but his head was properly screwed on his shoulders.
“So, you’ve known Isadora for a long time?” I asked, my voice dry and raspy.
As I slumped in the backseat, I understood just how sore I was going to be in the morning. It reminded me of the gargoyle incident, the pain disturbingly similar—like being hit by a bus, repeatedly.
A thousand thoughts were shooting through my mind, and I figured I could strike up a conversation with Dicky to find out more about this other aunt of mine. There was so much I didn’t know, and so many mysteries she could clear up if only I had more time with her.
“Uh-huh,” Dicky replied, keeping his eyes on the road.
He was in his mid-forties, with a receding hairline and rebellious brown curls at the back. He smelled of Old Spice—which was better than the olfactory disaster that was his cab. Someone had recently eaten Indian in the back.
“And, um, you know about magicals, from what she told me,” I said, hoping I’d get him to say more.