Words of Power (Alice Gray Book 3)

34

"Alice, it's ok, let me in." Anne's voice was soft and enticing, beckoning me to do her bidding, just as I knew her Gray family magic would be reaching out to influence me to listen and comply.

I recognised the soft whisper of magic before I saw the golden particles float up from under the door. My eyes stayed glued to the sparkling specks that danced in the dimly lit bathroom.

"I can't. I can't trust myself. You can't trust me," I said, my tongue sliding over my dry cracked lips as my silver magic swirled and churned inside me.

"You need to come out," Anne urged, more insistent this time, an influx of golden particles surging through the space at the bottom of the door.

She really wanted me out of here, but all her magic was doing was agitating my own, making it eager to connect again. I couldn't let that happen.

"Why? I'll just sleep in here until the trial. I'll most likely be put out of my misery after that anyway." My words reeked of failure, but I couldn't make myself care. I'd finally given up. I couldn't even bring myself to try, never mind to hope that some miracle would prove me innocent in the eyes of the DPA.

I wasn't innocent. I'd just demonstrated how little I could be trusted with my magic.

The life was being pressed out of me by the pack bond on one side and my insatiable silver power on the other. There didn't seem much point in trying to prevent the inevitable any longer. What chance did I have at freedom even if I got let off by the DPA?

"No, Alice, you really need to come out, like, right now,"

"There's no point."

"ALICE, get your miserable little ass out of that bathroom this instant."

"Give me one good reason."

"I. NEED. TO. PEE. RIGHT. NOW."

I opened the door to find Anne jigging up and down like she was barefoot on hot coals. As soon as she saw me, she grabbed my arm, yanked me out and then slammed the door behind herself.

Crap, I really was a self-absorbed asshole sometimes.

Looking around the room from under lowered-lids, I really didn't want to face up to the derision and fear that I knew would be waiting for me. Which was why I was surprised to find Sam taking a nap on the bed, and Evan and Ralph bent over the desk studying the written charm that Anne had swiped from the Northern Coven.

Clearing my throat to give them a chance to formulate an appropriate response of anger and loathing, I was actually a little annoyed when nothing happened. Didn't they know what I'd done to them?

I swallowed the bile that crept back into my throat at the thought of what might have happened if Lucas hadn't sent Ralph to stop me. Would I have warped them into nasty, twisted gargoyles like my father had with his victims?

I shut that thought down before it could crawl all over me and push away what small amount of reason I had left. Luckily there was another question that was bouncing around my mind demanding attention.

What the hell kind of magical creature could resist the silver magic?

As if he sensed my confusion, Ralph looked up. For once, his massive smelly beard wasn't the most conspicuous thing about him. Nor was the creepy smile that lifted it up showing a hollow gulf of red surrounded by bright white teeth.

No, what really stood out about Ralph, the massive gross biker dude, were his beautiful Lavender coloured eyes.

My questions died on the tip of my tongue. Ralph's smile widened, and those eyes; they shone like two purple amethysts hidden in a mountain of grey rock.

"Oh, hey," Evan said, finally tearing him away from the written charm.

"Hey," I said slowly, forcing my eyes to blink and break the connection with those bright purple sparklers that were glittering with amusement. I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. "Look Evan, I'm really sorry about before. I know after Jonathan even the idea of my silver magic freaks you out. I just lost it."

Evan looked at me, crinkle lines in his forehead. After a moment they smoothed out in understanding. "It's not the same as your dad, Alice. I know you wouldn't make me hurt anyone. I trust you. We're pack."

My eyes slanted to the side, unable to hold the trusting, innocent blue beams of someone who was supposed to be closer than family to me. My pack-brother.

Of course there was no way that I'd ever purposefully hurt him, or make him hurt someone else. I'd been on the receiving end of that when my father had warped Evan's soul as a lesson intended to bring me to heel. We both lived with the guilt of what had happened festering in the back of our minds. The boundary between victim and attacker was not clear cut, as both of us could be described in both roles.

I appreciated that he trusted me so much, I really did. But it just made me feel even worse. I had relished the hunger that fuelled my magic. I had lived the intention to drain Anne and Evan's power and use their bodies for my own purposes.

If Ralph hadn't stopped me, I would have done the same as Jonathan. Or worse, because even though the others found it hard to believe, Jonathan's exile had been self-imposed. He'd separated himself from the world to protect those around him, and it was only people who sought him out that got warped by his power.

I was beginning to realise that Jonathan probably had as little control over that as I did. Our silver power meant madness, for our victims, but also for ourselves.

Evan trusted me because he thought the pack bond kept my magic in check. He didn't know that I'd been able to shut it off, to drown it out with the silver leaves, and the moment that I did, the magic surged up and overtook me.

I watched him, excitedly chattering away, his words washing over me in a wave of unfounded enthusiasm. He'd already forgotten it. It was nothing to him, secure in his confidence that the pack bond would protect us all. No such certainty for me. Not now, not when even the bond had faltered under the strain of my silver magic.

As my mood sank to the bottom of an ocean of despair. I resigned myself to deep-sea diving in it for my few remaining hours before the DPA got me back in their clutches.

But then two words out of the stream of constant babble whipped my attention back to my pack-mate. A name so familiar to me that it almost felt like my own.

Jennet Device.

It was like my oxygen tank miraculously converted to a snorkelling mask. I emerged from the dark depths of the ocean to hover near the surface ready to emerge given the slightest encouragement.

My hard, sharp ancestor was the only one who could save me now.

Is Jennet Device really the answer? Read on...