Blood Like Magic, page 37
I open my mouth.
She cuts me off. “Don’t you dare lie to me either.”
I press my lips together and wait a moment before responding, “I was relieved.” I thought I was going to kill a fake Luc to stop the vision. If I had really stabbed him through the heart… Even thinking about it makes my stomach clench and burn.
Granny gives me a slow nod and leans back in her chair. “In our family, you only participated in rituals if you were a witch. I had just passed my Calling. Got my gift in the Pass, alone, as we did back then. No Amplifying ceremonies either. Mom felt they were for weak families. And it was customary back then that right after, you perform your first ritual and take a life, to start you off with a high bandwidth. Alone, like everything else.”
“Alone? You had to do a ritual by yourself?!”
Granny pulls a grim smile. “There were ten of us in the house, not much less than we have now, but I constantly felt as though I were living by myself. Especially because I was the oldest. That was tradition too. The oldest would become Matriarch. My siblings didn’t like me very much because of it.”
This is the most I’ve ever heard her talk about her childhood or her family. I’m ashamed to realize that I never asked. I assumed that everything I knew about her was what was important, and anything else was just her past. She never volunteered the information, so I assumed she didn’t want to discuss it. “And you did it? The ritual?”
“I did.” She shakes her head. “I left the woman blindfolded and sliced across her neck as fast as I could. Magic filled me and I got stronger. And in the afterglow, I cried. I kept my voice as quiet as I could so no one else would know.”
I don’t know what to say to her. I come closer until I’m standing right in front of Granny.
She gazes up at me. “Every day since, I’ve regretted it. I tried to find out about her, but there wasn’t any information. Those are the sorts of people we tried to find. Folks without records. At first, I ran. From my family, from that woman, from everything. Packed up in that van with your grandad and Vacu, and hit the road as soon as I could. Because I knew that one day, he would have to stay in a room, alone, and cry over a dead body, a person he would never know.
“When I got pregnant with your mom, I realized that she would become the Matriarch after me. Or at least that’s how it would have been under my mom’s rule. It’s different now. But at the time, the idea of her taking on that horrible legacy was too much. I wouldn’t let my children suffer like that.”
She licks her lips. “I came back home and pretended to be everything Mom wanted up until the day she died, to be sure I would be made Matriarch. It was my right as the oldest, but I had been away for a while, and was worried she would take it away from me. The day I was crowned, I told my family we were going to switch to purity. If they didn’t want to, they would have to leave.”
My jaw drops open. I knew Granny’s family cut ties with her, but I thought they just left. I didn’t realize that she kicked them out.
Granny smiles. “They all renounced me as their Matriarch. Some stayed Thomases and lived without connection to a leader or our family here, but most married into other families or pledged to new Matriarchs. For a time, I was the only Thomas-born witch in the house. But I had your grandad, Vacu, and your mom growing inside me. For once, I wasn’t alone.” She points behind me. “Take the bake out of the fryer.”
Blinking, I rush over to my station, pull out three plates, and lift the fried bake out. The judges are nearly here, and I didn’t even notice. I pat the pieces dry and assemble them on the plates. A piece of fried bake with a slice of the compound mango-and-herb butter and a spoonful of salt fish on top. To finish, I ladle out a portion of the sorrel into cups filled with ice, garnish with orange peel, and arrange them next to the plates. All the while, Granny’s story plays on a loop in my head.
The judges stop in front as I finish. I recognize them from my food feeds. The Black woman with a pixie cut, Irae, blogs about Jamaican Chinese fusion meals; the man, Stephen, is a Japanese Canadian blogger who does traditional meals; and the last judge, Chaturi, is a woman who emigrated from Sri Lanka for a sponsorship and is one of the top food bloggers and reviewers in Toronto.
Irae smiles as she steps up to my booth. “What do we have here?”
I straighten my back and suck in a wince as it irritates my wounds. “This is fried bake; it’s a flour and coconut milk–based dough, with a mango-and-herb compound butter, and salt fish with mixed peppers.” My fingers shake as I hand them their plates and cutlery. “I’ve paired it with sorrel, a traditional spiced drink made from the sorrel flower.”
There’s a drone hovering beside us to film them making their rounds, and I try not to look at it.
Stephen glances at Granny in her chair. She has no reaction except to scroll through her feeds. “Who’s helping you today?”
“My grandma,” I squeak, and wave a hand in her direction. She puts down her phone to squeeze out a tight smile. “She’s the one who taught me to make bake when I was little. It’s a recipe she learned from her mother, and I’ve made some adjustments based on her recipe and some changes my aunt made.”
Stephen looks around the space. “Is your aunt here today too?”
“She’s… She passed away.”
His eyes go wide. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s okay. She left a lot of recipes behind I’ve tried.” I wish now, more than ever, that I could remember her. Dad said we used to bake together. At least I know now that the memories aren’t gone forever. It may be harder for me to find them than it would be for an adult like Justin, but I can try.
The judges finish everything on their plates and their cups of sorrel, but the portions are small, so I’m not sure whether I should be reading into it. I search Chaturi’s face, as she’s the only one who’s been silent this entire time.
She says nothing, only smiles, and they thank me and move on.
Granny clears her throat. “Are you going to fix me a plate, or what?”
I hustle to set up the dish for Granny and hand her a serving. Knowing what I know about her now, she looks different somehow. This entire time, I didn’t realize there could be overlap in what I was struggling with and what she had already worked through. Granny put everything on the line to do what she thought was right.
She chews with small, measured bites and eyes me. “You came up with this recipe?”
“Yeah… I thought it would be good.”
Granny finishes off her bake and sets down the empty plate. “I never asked what you wanted to do with your life.”
“What?”
“When I was younger, a witch’s gift was everything. Your entire life depended on what it was.” She grits her teeth. “I hated that.”
“What is your gift?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Granny scoffs. “What matters is I didn’t want it to be my whole life, but I didn’t raise any of you like that. Discouraged it, even. Keis is the only one who didn’t listen to me.”
“It’s okay, I don’t know what I want to do with my life.”
Granny’s eyes narrow. “That’s the problem.” She stands abruptly. “I need to go to the bathroom.” She pauses for a moment, and with her voice just above a whisper, she says, “It was delicious.” Before I can respond, she walks off.
“Can I try some?” Luc’s voice slaps against my back as hard as the magic whip in the dark ritual.
I spin around. He’s standing in front of the stall in a sleeveless black hoodie and ripped jeans. Typical Luc attire. His face has the same set to it as when we first met, that pinched expression, but it’s lacking heat. I haven’t seen him since I came at him with a knife.
This is also the first time I’ve properly interacted with him since realizing my feelings. Suddenly, I’m embarrassed. Like he can tell just by looking at me. I’m just an ordinary teenage girl with a serious love-level crush on a boy I almost killed. “Sure.” I drop some bake in the fryer.
He looks around the stall. “Has Keis heard back? About the internship?”
Our shit is so sparked. Standing here. Making small talk like nothing happened yesterday.
“Not yet…” I swallow. Luc himself said he can’t affect the positions, so whatever is going on with us shouldn’t mess up her chances. And, even after yesterday, I don’t think he would do that to her, to me. “What brings you here?”
“You.”
Heat surges through my chest, and my hand shakes as I check the fryer basket.
Luc lets out a deep breath. “Justin is letting me reopen the NuSap program. I’ll be moving away from NuGene Match and leading the research into the NuSaps. It’ll take a lot of PR work, but he’s giving me the chance to revive it.”
“That’s amazing!” I gasp. “That’s what you wanted to do this whole time, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“What changed?” Why did Justin decide to let him on board?
“I spoke with Justin about what happened.”
My hands tremble as I lift the bake out of the fryer and top it with the compound butter and salt fish. I slide the plate over to him. “Oh yeah?”
He shakes his head. “When you came at me, there was no hesitation. Like you were really trying to kill me. Why would you do that?”
“Seemed like the only choice at the time.” They’re the only words that I can come up with.
“Are you still going to?”
“I don’t know.”
Luc lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “You really would have done it. I could tell. The only reason I’m here is because something saved me.”
“What?” I blink at him.
“Right before the blade was supposed to go in, I got jerked to the side. By something I couldn’t see. I didn’t move. Something moved me.”
I don’t even know how to begin explaining that to him because I have no idea what he’s talking about.
“I told Justin that, too. I wouldn’t have normally because it sounds so improbable, but my match had just tried to kill me, and I was reasonably shook up and rambling. He showed me the readings from your monitor. Special spikes in a specific sequence of neurotransmitter activity, the flashing I was wondering about.” Luc stares at the plate in front of him with a wrinkled brow and lets out a forced laugh. “He seems to think they’re indicators of magical activity. The sequence fires when the user performs magic. Actual magic. Can you believe that?”
I don’t move my face. Not even to blink. Justin was tracking the sequence for magic. But in the Electronics Den… no magic was happening. No magic was ever happening because I don’t have any. That’s probably why the girl didn’t notice it. A cool sweat breaks out on the back of my neck. What is Justin doing with that information? Why would he want to track that with someone who hasn’t even passed a Calling? But then I guess he wouldn’t know that.
“Did you hurt Juras?” Luc lifts his head to look at me. “You were talking about him yesterday. Justin said the only spike in your neurotransmitters, the only one, happened at the same moment Juras had his stroke. I saw the monitor flash myself. He seems to think that you did something to Juras with magic. I just… That’s not a real thing. Right?”
Mama’s spell. Of course. Passing it on could have registered as me doing it. I did, technically. I could deny it. Even if they can tell when magic is used, even if he saw the flash, it proves nothing. Luc doesn’t even seem to believe in magic. He’s looking for me to tell him it’s not true.
But I’m tired. I’m exhausted from trying to figure out how to kill Luc and failing at every turn. From deciding that I don’t want to but having no idea where to go next. I’m worn out from watching my family struggle. I’m sick of seeing visions of blood. And I’m finished with lying. “Yes. I did do something. With magic.”
Luc’s lip trembles the slightest bit. “Assuming you could do that, why would you?”
“Seemed like the best choice at the time,” I say, almost exactly echoing my reason for why I tried to kill him.
Luc lets out a long breath. “Two attempts. One on Juras’s life, and one on mine. Do I have to spend every waking moment worrying about you trying to murder us?”
“No, just until next Saturday. I have until then to figure it out. I would rather not if I can.”
To his credit, he doesn’t run. Even though I’ve basically said I might still give killing him another try. He stands his ground and cuts into the fried bake, eating a mouthful. It’s the longest few seconds of chewing of my life.
I point to the plate. “How is it?”
Luc shakes his head, blue and gray strands blowing in the heated summer wind. “Perfect. Like everything else you make. Meals, magic, and murder, I guess that’s your thing, eh?”
“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“Then why are you?”
Now that I’ve started, the desire to spill everything is overflowing. “I’m meant to destroy my first love. If I don’t, my little sister will die.” I want to look away but end up staring straight into his eyes. This isn’t the best time or place for a confession, and yet here I am.
Luc laughs. This one is genuine. There’s mirth in his face because this situation is that comical to him. “Unbelievable. This is ridiculous. I know magic doesn’t exist, but something stopped you from killing me, and I couldn’t see it. There are countless scientific explanations for phenomena that, before they were fully understood, people called magic. Did you know that?”
“If that makes it easier for you to understand, sure.”
“It doesn’t! Nothing about this is easy to understand.” He runs his hands through his hair. “Least of all the fact that, by your admission, you are trying to kill me to save your family, but somehow you think that I’m the first person you’ve ever loved?” He shakes his head again. “You’re smarter than that.”
“Who do you think it is?” I snap back.
“Excuse me if I’m not jumping at the chance to help you pick a murder victim.” He turns, and something he sees changes his expression. His eyes flare wide, and the color drains from his face.
I follow his gaze and land on who else but the Carters. Rena is done up as usual and winding through the stalls with her son. But Luc shouldn’t know her, and yet he’s acting like he does. “What else have you and Justin bonded about?”
“I was wrong.”
“About what?”
Luc swallows, his throat bobbing with the movement. “I am the successor. Justin’s call was about his second choice all along. Juras. With Jasmine as third choice.” He crosses his arms. “He thought it was funny. He said if he knew I was worried about it, he would have just told me. He never did because he thought it was obvious.”
I can only stare at him. It makes sense that Luc would be the real successor. He and Justin spent so much time together. Both his siblings bonded together and kept him out, probably because they were jealous. Even they could tell. It was obvious until Luc insisted that he wasn’t. Now, more than ever, I understand why his sponsor trusted him with the truth about magic. They’re bonded even more now.
Luc has everything he’s ever wanted. And yet, he’s here.
“Why did you come?” I ask.
He points to my monitor. “You need to take that off.”
“I need to keep it on for the next week to get paid for being in the beta. And chances are, if Justin wants to find me, he will.” I press myself closer to him. “You recognized Rena over there. Her daughter, Lauren, has been missing for more than a month. Does Justin know anything about that?”
He avoids my eyes and says nothing, staring out at the expanse of the park with all the other contestants handing out samples of their dishes.
The more I think about it, the more sense it makes. That’s why Justin didn’t want to help look for her. And she did get the custom curl pattern, which meant he had access to her genes in a way he didn’t have mine until I agreed to be in the beta program.
“Luc!” I snap out, voice shaking. “Does he know where Lauren is?”
“Justin…” Luc tears his eyes away from gazing out at the park and instead looks down at his plate. “He wants something from you, and I don’t know how he plans to get it.”
“Where is Lauren?”
“I don’t know!” Luc shouts. “I saw a family genetics file on his computer with that woman.” He flings his hand toward Rena. “He had some location data on her. It’s nothing.”
“Nothing doesn’t make you look at her like that.”
Luc gets in my face. “I don’t know anything anymore. I can’t trust my mentor, or my sponsor siblings, or you. I am floating on an island by myself. All I know is I can’t confirm Justin has hurt anyone, but you have.”
“Then you don’t know him as well as you think you do.”
“Just… watch yourself.”
“Why help me? I tried to kill you. I still might.” I don’t want to take any lives. I still believe there may be a way around Mama Jova’s task the same way I got around her “touch him” command, but I don’t know for sure yet.
Luc tucks his hands in his pockets, his stare penetrating. “I wasn’t aware that you were in love with me.”
I gape at him because I don’t know what else to do. I wasn’t expecting to accidentally confess my love today, and I’m not prepared for it.
“I think it’s best if you stop sending me messages. I’m putting a block on, so I won’t see them anyway. Justin has agreed that he won’t hold my seriousness regarding the matching program to being around you.”
Are you breaking up with me?
The words rush to my lips, and I bite them to keep them in. We weren’t even anything in the first place. Just matched up by a series of genes that a company decided means you’re compatible.
My throat aches, and I don’t trust myself to speak, so I don’t. Tears spring to the corners of my eyes, so I turn away from Luc, ending the conversation. As if he hadn’t already made things final enough.
There’s nothing but the sounds of the park around us and the gentle sizzle of the fryers for a moment. Then the grass crunches in a sound that means Luc is leaving.
