Spellcaster
No power was more flexible than stolen power. Or—if you knew how to use it properly—sweeter.
The light of stolen love and life painted her thighs and belly, touching them with heat. Unblinking, Elizabeth stared into the glow, picturing Mateo’s face.
You are mine, she thought. No one else can free you. Only me.
Ginger drove to the hospital so quickly that Nadia found herself bracing her hands against the dashboard. It still didn’t feel fast enough. But within minutes the three of them were dashing across the hospital parking lot. From the grim, desperate look on Ginger’s face, Nadia could tell how truly she regretted having hurt Mateo.
It didn’t matter. Nadia remained so angry with Ginger, so frightened for Mateo, that she wanted to scream.
Mateo will be okay, she reminded herself. He won’t die. They have machines that keep him breathing. Ginger will break the spell, and he’ll be fine again in no time.
Physically, that was true. But what about Mateo’s mind? Although he would be able to remember things from now on, would he ever recall anything from his past? Was every moment he’d ever known—every moment they had ever known—lost forever?
They ran into the ER waiting room. Nadia hurried to the nurse on duty. “Yes, hi, we’re here about Mateo Perez—we’re his, um, his friends.” Would they even let anybody in to see him? Could Ginger cast the spell from here?
“I’m sorry,” the nurse said. “No visitors outside the immediate family.”
Nadia glanced over at Ginger, who still looked as likely to bolt as to help Mateo. Before she could think what to do, though, Verlaine shouted—more loudly than Nadia had ever heard her say anything, “This is an outrage!”
Heads turned around the waiting room. The nurse said, “Miss, I understand you’re upset, but the same rules apply to you as to anyone else.”
Verlaine grabbed out her phone and started recording video. “This is about—about freedom of the press! The public has a right to know what’s being served in local restaurants if it’s killing people!”
Someone across the room, who seemed to be waiting for a doctor to check out a black eye, said, “Wait, restaurants are killing people?”
Everyone started murmuring, and Verlaine used her free hand to start beating on the nurses’ station as loudly as she could. “I demand accountability! I demand justice!” Then she shot Nadia a look that clearly meant, Would you please get a move on?
“If you don’t quiet down, I’m going to have to call security!” the nurse cried; already a security guard was edging toward Verlaine. Nadia started backing away from the fracas, towing Ginger along with her. As everyone focused on Verlaine, who kept on shouting about citizen journalism, Nadia was able to push through the doors that led to the ER itself.
Captive’s Sound was so small, and so quiet, that no other patients were in the ER. Both doctors and all the nurses swarmed around a single hospital bed. Amid the sea of tubes and scrubs, Nadia could just see Mateo. He looked so pale, so still. Her heart constricted painfully in her chest.
“Do something,” she whispered to Ginger, who nodded.
It was horrible, having to rely on someone else to save Mateo. Though Nadia could have tried something herself, it would be harder for her; the spellcaster herself always had the greatest power over the spell.
But even as Ginger lifted one hand to begin, Mateo suddenly sat upright.
“Whoa—” he groaned. His eyes opened, then shut tightly against what must have seemed like too-bright light. “Whoa, what’s going on?”
“Lie back down!” one of the doctors ordered, but Nadia could tell she was relieved, as were all the other medical staff in the room.
Mateo stared past the sea of doctors toward her. “Nadia?”
A nurse finally saw them. “Excuse me, no visitors. You’ll have to step outside.”
“You’re okay, Mateo!” Nadia called to him even as the nurse pushed them both back toward the doors. “You’re going to be fine!”
As they were finally edged out, they almost backed into Alejandro Perez, who looked petrified. “Please—my son—”
“He’s awake and responsive,” the nurse said. “We’ll tell you more when we can. Wait out here.”
“He’s awake?” Mr. Perez repeated. Relief made his face go almost slack. “Madre de Dios.”
Nadia nodded quickly. “He woke up while they were in there. Sat up and knew who I was and everything.”
Apparently Mr. Perez was too overwhelmed to ask himself why she and Ginger would have been in the ER in the first place. “You’re sure?”
“It’s all going to be okay.” It was the kind of thing people said even when they couldn’t be sure, so Nadia could get away with it; she did know for sure but couldn’t explain how she knew. And Ginger looked as confused as she did....
“I’ve been working him too hard,” Mr. Perez whispered. “Riding him too hard, after he skipped a week of school. Wanted to—to straighten him out, you know? But Mateo’s always been a good kid. The first time he ran a little wild, I drove him to this.”
“No, no! It wasn’t your fault,” Nadia insisted, thinking, It’s mine. “Please don’t blame yourself.”
He patted her shoulder absentmindedly. “It was good of you both to come. But I—I need to talk to the doctors now.”
“Of course. Go,” Nadia said. Next to her, Ginger nodded.