Harley Merlin and the Secret Coven Read online

  “Tell me, Harley, do you agree with your Mediocrity?” Tobe replied, as if reading my mind—something Wade seemed good at, too. For a split second, I wondered what Wade was up to right now.

  Probably snoring his butt off.

  But Tobe asked a good question. Was I okay with being classified as a Mediocre?

  My ego screamed, “Hell, no!” and my instincts also disagreed. I shook my head in response. “Not really, no. It’s not just because of the Reading, though. I mean, sure, it does sound ridiculous to be a full Elemental and an Empath and a Telekinetic and be deemed a Mediocre. And I’m just using common reasoning here, no magical knowledge whatsoever. But there’s also something deep down, like this little voice in the back of my head, and it’s telling me I’m not Mediocre, at all. It’s almost laughing at the prospect. I feel like I can be more, and better.”

  Tobe nodded slowly, carefully considering my answer, then took a couple of steps forward. He was so tall that I had to tilt my head back a little. “You see, in circumstances such as yours, having some information about your birthparents would have been very useful. Parental heritage often determines a magical’s prospects, including the chances of being labeled a Mediocre. Do you know anything about your biological family?”

  “Nothing whatsoever.” I sighed, then remembered the note from my father, still stuck in the back pocket of my jeans. I took it out, then handed it over to him. “All I have is this note from my father. I was three years old when I was left at the orphanage. Nobody knows how I ended up there. Father Thomas was kind enough to check hospital records in the city at the time, but nothing came up. No babies missing, nothing that could be traced back to me.”

  Tobe listened, while studying the note. I tried to get a sense of what he was feeling, but all I got was curiosity, with a faint whiff of concern. “What are you thinking?” I asked. “I feel you, but I can’t exactly read you.”

  “You will, some day.” He winked at me. “Your Empath ability is still very green. Once you develop it properly, and once you get a better understanding of emotions, in general, you’ll be able to identify and interpret everything with incredible accuracy. Tell me, Harley, do you remember anything from before the orphanage?”

  “Nothing… I don’t think so, anyway,” I mumbled, flashes of previous dreams rushing before my eyes. Tobe was quick to notice.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Um. I think I’ve had dreams about my parents… but they’re too hazy,” I confessed. “When I dream, it’s all clear, and it’s like I know exactly what’s going on, who I am, who they are. But the moment I open my eyes, I forget everything. I’m left with bright spots and the warmth of a smile.”

  “Wait here,” Tobe said, then disappeared behind a glass box wall hosting ten formless monsters. They rippled across the crystalline surface, then scattered at the bottom, and I could see Tobe on the other side, bent over a wooden chest. I glanced over to my left, to find Quetzi still watching me curiously, the tip of its tail twitching.

  “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you are creepy and gorgeous at the same time,” I said, staring at the mythical serpent.

  “Thank you, I get that a lot,” Tobe quipped, coming back with what looked like a Native American dreamcatcher.

  “No, I meant Quetzi,” I replied, then worried he might feel offended, somehow, which threw me into a most awkward stammer. “Not that you’re not gorgeous… Well, not gorgeous, but… Um, I mean, good-looking. You are. Despite the lion head. Not ‘despite,’ sorry, it’s not like there’s something wrong with your head. It’s perfect just the way it is, and you’re not creepy at all. I… I mean… Stop me, please, I’m digging myself into a hole I won’t be able to get out of.”

  Tobe stared at me for a couple of seconds, then laughed. His laughter was strange, like a soft purr, his jaws open and his white fangs glistening. At least he had a sense of humor and wasn’t easily offended. Thank heavens.

  “It’s all right, Harley, do not worry,” he replied. “I am well aware that my appearance doesn’t exactly match my nature or my vocabulary—or my ability to use a vocabulary. Here, take this.”

  He handed me the dreamcatcher, and I spent a good minute looking at it from all angles. It was really old, judging by the yellowed sinews used for the net. The edges were wrapped in worn, red leather, and the feathers were simply stunning, each the size of my palm and bright red. They were quite peculiar, too, mainly because they looked a lot like peacock feathers, with big white-and-black eyes in the middle, but the coloring simply didn’t feel natural. The beads were shiny and black, with tiny reddish striations. It was truly a beautiful piece.

  “What does this do?” I asked.

  “It’s a dreamcatcher.”

  “Of course it is,” I said. He was stating the obvious, but I had a feeling our concepts of “obvious” were quite different. In human culture, dreamcatchers had lost their mystical origin, and were simply regarded as beautiful Native American decorative objects. Something told me this wasn’t just for decoration. “I’m guessing it’s magical?”

  “Yes. It’s a very old charm. Only a handful of these still exist. They were woven by Navajo warlocks before the first European settlers came to America,” Tobe explained. “All you need to do is hang it above your head, before you go to sleep, and say, ‘na’iidzeel.’ That’s Navajo for ‘dream.’ It will capture your dreams in vivid detail.”

  “Oh. Wow.”

  I was floored by his gesture, and by what this meant for me, on a very personal level. This was a rare artifact, and Tobe was simply handing it over to help me remember my dreams. Who does that?

  Wonderful creatures do, Harley. Wonderful creatures.

  “How… How can I ever repay you for this?” I breathed, my eyes glassy with tears, and my throat closing up.

  “Just look after it, Harley. Like I said, it is extremely rare, and highly valuable. So, be careful whom you tell about it.” Tobe smiled, and I nodded in response.

  “Thank you, Tobe. Thank you so much… Wait, quick question. How do I see my dreams, afterward? You said it captures them.”

  “Ah, yes. Good question. It’s a very intense experience, much like taking peyote,” he replied, slightly amused.

  “I’ve never—”

  “Of course you haven’t, and I don’t think you should.” He shook his head vehemently. “It’s a powerful hallucinogenic to humans, but to magicals it is far, far more powerful, much more intense. It is a literal separation of consciousness and body. Some magicals even fail to return to their physical forms. But, anyway, you’ll learn that from Preceptor Bellmore; she uses peyote in some of her charms and hexes. To see your dreams, you need only to hold the dreamcatcher with both hands and say, ‘yáshti’. That means ‘speak,’ and it allows the dreamcatcher to speak to you with the images from your dream. You’ll see what I mean.”

  I nodded again, my gaze shifting repeatedly between Tobe and the dreamcatcher. I rarely got gifts, and never one of such importance. It felt humbling, and, at the same time, it filled me with an unfamiliar but warm light, as if I’d finally found my place in the world.

  The pragmatic side of me quickly kicked in, reminding me not to get too attached. Tobe was clearly an extraordinary creature, but I’d yet to find the same appreciation for the rest of the coven. I had to take my time before giving the coven an answer—no matter what that answer may be.

  “Thank you, Tobe.” I offered a warm smile, which he returned with a gentle expression.

  “Now go to sleep, Harley,” he replied. “You shouldn’t be out at this hour, anyway. You have a long day ahead tomorrow, don’t you?”

  “Ah, yes. Totally.” I sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

  I left Tobe in the Bestiary and eventually found my way back to the dorms. It was going to take some time to get used to all the passageways and corridors in this place—not to mention all the floors! I’d only seen one today. From what I understood, there were five, and if they
were as huge as this one, I would need a couple of days just to visit them all.

  By the time I reached my room, my eyes were already droopy, and my brain had slowed down, to the point where I had a hard time remembering the Navajo words Tobe had told me to use for my dreamcatcher.

  “Crap,” I muttered, then tucked the dreamcatcher into the bottom drawer of my nightstand. I’d find a better hiding place tomorrow. I couldn’t even stand anymore, my arms and legs weighing a ton.

  I was far too tired to struggle to remember the words. “I’ll ask Tobe again tomorrow,” I murmured, resting my head on the pillow.

  My mind went back into overdrive as I remembered the gargoyle attacks. Maybe a minute later, however, I let the darkness embrace me, closing my eyes and finally drifting away.

  Stay safe, stay smart, baby girl…

  That voice. I knew it. I was slipping into a dream and, with my last sliver of semi-consciousness, I made a mental note to ask Tobe to write down those Navajo incantations tomorrow.

  I needed to see the face of the man that voice belonged to.

  Chapter Eighteen

  A knock on the door made my eyes snap open.

  Sunshine poured through the windows. I’d left the thick, dark green curtains open. Only then, after a heavy sleep, did I take in the colors of my room—dark green on the windows and carpeted floor, and walnut paneling on the walls, with matching furniture. I was so tired yesterday, so overwhelmed, I didn’t even notice the mid-century vibe.

  It didn’t match the rest of the coven, and I had a feeling it was decorated by the previous magical, as the furnishings sort of matched the 1950s movie posters. A second knock made me sit up.

  “Yeah?” I called out, readjusting to consciousness.

  “It’s Astrid! Can I come in?”

  I blinked several times, the memory of yesterday coming back in full color. Man, I was knocked out last night. I couldn’t remember a single dream. Come to think of it, I could barely remember how I got back from the Bestiary.

  “Yeah, sure,” I replied, pushing the blanket aside.

  My jeans and T-shirt were still on. It was a miracle I’d made it out of my boots last night.

  The door opened, and in came Astrid, dragging a solid metal clothes rack with her, the wheels squeaking a little too loudly. It was loaded with a plethora of clothes, with a bottom rack on which several boxes wobbled as she stopped in the middle of the room.

  “What in the world?” I murmured, getting out of bed and rubbing my eyes.

  Astrid put on a presentation pose, beaming as she pointed at the rack.

  “These are all for you, compliments of the San Diego Coven!” she said.

  Upon closer inspection, I realized that all the clothes were in my size—all my favorite brands and styles, in a variety of whites, blues, and reds, mostly, along with a couple of leather jackets. She opened the boxes one by one. Boots, biker style, ankle height, and not too heavy on the soles, just the way I liked my footwear, as well as a pair of sneakers.

  “Astrid. What’s all this?” I managed, while she opened one last box, which was filled with lingerie, and a bag of essential girly stuff—shampoo, conditioner, personal hygiene, and makeup, all my regular brands. How did they know? Wait. My apartment.

  “Well, after the gargoyle attack last night, there wasn’t much left that we could salvage from your apartment,” Astrid explained, taking one of the leather jackets and turning it over to get a better look at the metallic accents. Judging by the look on her face, she liked it.

  “I don’t… What?” I was still quite confused.

  “The gargoyles trashed the place, and I don’t mean just the broken water pipe and windows—”

  “No, that was me,” I replied, replaying the entire scene in my mind.

  “Ah, okay. Cool.” She nodded, slightly amused. “You really need an Esprit, girl.” She chuckled, then switched back to serious-looking Astrid. “Thing is, one of the gargoyles flipped over the TV, then pulled out and tore some of the live wires in the wall. I’m quite fuzzy on the details right now. Bottom line, your place burned down. A little.”

  “What?!”

  My jaw dropped. My heart sank. I could almost cry, but after what I’d seen happen to Daisy, the apartment didn’t seem like the worst part of my encounter with the beasts.

  “There was a fire. The sprinkler system was set off, eventually, but most of your stuff was scorched, and everything else was soaked. Your place is a mess. Sorry, but I think you’ll be staying here for more than a day or two.” Astrid offered me a sympathetic smile.

  A couple of seconds went by as I did a quick assessment in the back of my head.

  “The place is insured,” I remembered. “The lease covers accidents and stuff. Pretty sure it covers fires. I think it’ll be okay. I won’t lose my lease. I got a three-month deposit on that place.”

  “Don’t worry about that. We’re the cleanup crew; we’ll take care of that, too.” She winked, then pointed at the wardrobe. “Do you like it?”

  “I… Yeah, I do. A lot, actually. How did you know my size and stuff?”

  She hesitated, offering me the jacket. I took it, briefly looked at it, then left it on my bed. I didn’t like the silence coming off her. She was hiding something. I could feel it—there was a lot of awkwardness coming from her, too much for me to handle pre-coffee.

  “Astrid, how did you know?” I asked again, adding a bit more gravitas to my voice.

  “I didn’t. Wade did.”

  “Huh?”

  “Wade bought all this,” Astrid said, her voice barely audible.

  I looked at the wardrobe again, then moved closer to get a better view of the lingerie box and—oh, my God, there is so… much… black lace…

  “Everything?” I managed, staring at the bundle of bras and panties with various lace designs, all worthy of artistic praise. They were all high-end creations, the kind of stuff I couldn’t afford but would’ve loved to wear, especially if I ever met a special someone… at some point.

  This was so private, so intimate. I was stunned, flustered, and a little creeped out. It was as if someone had peeked into my mind, plucking out my most hidden sartorial desires and turning them into reality.

  “Um, yeah.” I heard Astrid’s reply as I bent down and noticed my favorite shampoo and conditioner set. Freesia and jasmine.

  “You’re telling me that Wade went out this morning and bought all this for me?” I turned to face her, still having trouble processing the information.

  She sighed, then nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I didn’t even know until they were delivered to Kid City. Some of the parents who had kids playing there looked a little confused, but… Anyway, yeah. I mean, he used the coven card, though. He didn’t pay out of his own pocket or anything.”

  “How did he know to buy all this? I mean, these are all my size, my style. Even my favorite brands. This is weird… or creepy. I’m not sure which,” I blurted, and Astrid chuckled, which further befuddled me. “How come you aren’t creeped out?”

  “Oh, honey, I’ve been here for too long to be creeped out by something as innocent and, frankly, as cute as this,” she replied. “Wade is a very special kind of guy. He pays a lot of attention to details, even when you think he’s not. Christmas has been amazing since he came into the coven. He’s in charge of the gifts, every year, because he just… knows everybody’s tastes. He won’t tell us how he does it, though. It’s his secret, he says.”

  “Okay, so I’m not the only one he’s creeped out like this!” I said.

  “Come on, don’t be so hard on the guy. That’s just Wade. It doesn’t mean anything, if you ask me. Though, I’ve never seen him buy lingerie for anyone—that’s a first.” Astrid giggled, then checked her watch. “Shoot! Breakfast is ready! Hurry up, get dressed, and I’ll meet you in the banquet hall!”

  She didn’t wait for a reply as she rushed out, leaving me with my wonderful wardrobe. Handpicked and purchased by Wade freakin
g Crowley.

  After twenty minutes spent gawking at the rack and then a quick shower, I slipped into some of the new clothes, opting for jeans, a smart cotton shirt, and the leather jacket I’d left on the bed. My face was on fire when I put on the lingerie, and I struggled to ignore the thrills when I saw how perfectly it fit me, how every black band hugged my form and brought out my curves.

  I put on a pair of boots, then slapped on some BB cream and brushed my bright red mane. After a week of absolute weirdness and two near-death experiences, I had to admit—I looked great. I had always felt comfortable in my own skin, though I often tried to stay invisible, unnoticeable, but I’d already gotten used to the fact that there was only so much I could do to hide my natural features.

  My hair was long, soft, and straight, reaching just beneath my shoulder blades. The tips curled up when the humidity was higher than usual. My eyes were sky blue, and I often wondered whether I’d gotten them from my mom or my dad. The same question applied to the sprinkle of freckles on my nose. I was taller than the average girls in my age bracket, which was why I often chose flat soles—so as to not stand out even more.

  After about ten minutes of getting lost in those humongous hallways, I finally found the banquet hall, with its pristine white tables and silverware. There was a huge breakfast buffet at the end, loaded with a variety of pastries, fresh fruit, coffee and tea, pancakes—basically breakfast heaven, complete with three types of maple syrup.

  I scanned the room, looking for my Rag Team. My eyes met Finch’s, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up at attention. I offered a brief scowl, then found Garrett at the same table, along with Poe and the rest of the investigative team.

  After another minute, I eventually found Astrid, Santana, Tatyana, Dylan, Raffe, and Wade at the opposite end of the same long table, with one spare seat. My heart warmed up a little, thinking they’d actually saved it for me.