Interference: Book One Read online

  I had so many questions. But one stood out among everything else. “What were they like? My parents, I mean.”

  Fitz grinned. “Your father was cocky.” He chuckled at the memory. “Never backed down from a fight, and trust me, there were plenty.” His eyes grazed over each of my features. “Your mother was from Ireland, beautiful red hair and green eyes. Your dad had dark hair, like you.”

  “And their gifts?” I asked. I wanted to know everything.

  “She carried emotional interference, and your father was sensory. If the elder was correct, you could be the one that has all six. The only one ever born to have all six, Mercy.”

  “I’ve only shown power in two, right?”

  “So far, but that means nothing. They wouldn’t all surface at the same time,” he explained.

  “There is so much I don’t understand. If I don’t learn how to control my power, someone is going to get hurt. I’ll do whatever it takes, just tell me how to master it.”

  “Practice, Mercy. Over and over every day. Come see me tomorrow, I want to go over some things with you, alright?”

  “Okay, Fitz. I’ll be there.”

  I sat by the pool much longer than I intended after Fitz left. I needed some time alone. It was late when I crept down the hallway as quietly as possible, but the planks of the hardwood creaked under my feet. A door to my left eased open, and Ren stepped out, looking side to side.

  “Mercy, I was hoping to catch you. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Ren. Sorry about earlier, though. I would never put you or the others in danger.”

  He nodded. “We all know that. You’ll figure this out, I promise.”

  He wrapped his arms around me before I anticipated the gesture. Ren pressed my body into his—holding me—showing me kindness and support. Warm lips grazed across my cheek, then he softly whispered, “Good night.”

  I had to get away from there. The last thing I wanted was for him to get the wrong idea.

  My door whined as I pushed against the wooden frame. My vision struggled to adjust to the darkness before I could move around the room. Nora lay on her back in the tiny bed across from me. I couldn’t tell if she was asleep, so I moved as quietly as possible.

  Shedding my clothes on the floor, I climbed into bed and stared at the ceiling for the answers my mind demanded.

  Hurt. Deception. Abandoned. Dangerous.

  Those four words did the tango around my head, keeping me from going to sleep. I don’t even know the damn tango.

  “Most people don’t understand that pain is relative.” Nora’s small voice drifted across the room, pulling me from my daze.

  “Sorry, what?”

  “Pain. It’s different for everyone. Not everyone responds to pain the same way, you know. Take Neela, for example, you’d never know she struggles to paste that pretty smile on her face every day. But the worry over her family keeps her in knots. Ren loves you even though he barely knows you, but deep down, he knows you don’t feel the same way. Drake is angry. Angry at the world, and he has every right to be. And I’m . . . well, I’m broken. There are days I feel as though I’ll never be whole again.”

  “Nora, you’re not broken. You’re the strongest person I know.”

  “Have I ever told you about my parents?” she asked.

  “Not a lot, no.”

  “My father is a lawyer and country club member in upstate New York. Reputation is everything to my parents, and we never left home unless we were photo-ready. As I got older, my gift grew stronger. Mom drove herself crazy, trying to hide the dark circles under my eyes, so I became a pro at applying concealer at thirteen. I embarrassed my family. My father said I looked like a drug addict in our family portrait, and he tore it to shreds. He said I was a freak.”

  My heart ached for Nora. “Are you the only one in your family with power?” I asked.

  “My maternal grandmother was an emotion interferer. Everyone said she was crazy, and that I inherited the lunacy,” she mumbled.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Not knowing about my gift was difficult. Being treated like that, by the people who should have loved her, must have been horrible. Tendrils of guilt wrapped around my heart for moping about my situation.

  “Sometimes, it felt as though we were being prepared for politics. Maybe we were. He hosted a high-society benefit in the country club ballroom recently, and the place buzzed with business partners and golfing buddies. Out of everything that happened that night, the thing that stood out was the multiple trays of golden champagne, sparkling against the lights. I remember thinking how magical it all seemed. My little sister played in the corner with another girl, so I ran to the restroom before dinner. I had to hurry. I knew what would happen if I wasn’t there when my dad began his speech.”

  Nora spoke as though I wasn’t in the room. Staring at the ceiling as if memories were playing out on the white sheetrock above her. Her voice got smaller and cracked halfway through her story.

  “When I opened the door to leave the restroom, I ran into a man entering. He introduced himself and shook my hand politely, but his smile shined too bright—his eyes dark and eerie. Something felt wrong. The combination of wealth and alcohol created an illusion of invincibility for those men. He forced me back into the bathroom, telling me to be very quiet. His wide, fake smile couldn’t hide his intention. His hands reached for my hair, rubbing it between his fingers. Then, his hand traveled down my arm, and I felt it. I felt all the emotions raging through him in that moment and I grew nauseous.”

  Nora took a shaky breath, crying as she relived her horror.

  “The aggression and lack of concern—the guilt-free, sick mind standing in front of me tore at my soul. I sensed it all—everything he hungered for. I screamed at the top of my lungs and kicked him as hard as I could. It shook him enough for me to get out the door. I ran out into the silent ballroom with my father in the middle of his speech. Hearing my scream, everyone turned in my direction. My father was furious.”

  I shook my head, angry and baffled at the same time. “Surely after you told him what happened. . .”

  “You would think so, but the man denied everything and said I attacked him for no reason. I even tried explaining everything to my mother before bed that night, and she told me if it were true, then it would have been better for me to keep my mouth shut, for my father’s reputation. Mom said, ‘It’s not all about you, Elinora.”

  “Oh, Nora. How can she say that? You did the right thing. I can’t imagine what could have happened to you.”

  “They brought me here the next day and told Fitz to do his worst. I’m happy here, Mercy. Happier than I’ve been in a long time. My sister is everything they could ever want in a daughter. They don’t need me, anyway,” she admitted.

  I didn’t know what to say. The pain and suffering that she endured the last few months were more than I’d dealt with my entire life. Nora felt everything—every single emotion we were all dealing with, on top of her own struggles. I only dealt with mine, and my world felt as though it would collapse all around me. Pain is relative.

  At that moment, something came alive in me. Grief for the family that didn’t care enough, sadness for the people hurting around me, and gratefulness that someone found their gift through the pain I carried. . .

  Then I realized, those weren’t my feelings at all. Those were Nora’s emotions that I’d absorbed. I’d used emotional interference. I looked across the dark room. I couldn’t see her, but I could feel her pride.

  I struggled to find the right words. “You and Neela are my family, and we’re yours. I can’t thank you enough for sharing this with me. I’m sorry for the pain you had to go through, but I’m grateful for the lesson. As soon as I truly grasped I wasn’t the only one hurting, I opened myself up to your pain. I could feel it, Nora. I could feel you.”

  Nora was silent for several minutes.

  “Get some sleep, Mercy. Tomorrow’s a new day for you.”

  . .
.

  Five o’clock in the morning. I must have been insane. I woke up in the middle of the night with a crazy idea in my head, and couldn’t let it go. I dressed in dark leggings with a black hoodie pulled up over my head. I assumed this would be the appropriate attire for someone trying to sneak out of a building. If nothing else, I looked chill.

  Fremont was quiet that morning—only the banging of pots and pans from the kitchen staff heard from the hallway. I flipped the lock on the heavy front door and eased it open just enough to squeeze through. I paused on the top step, absorbing the cool morning air. Without the usual traffic, the streets were bare.

  Bagel carts rolled awkwardly onto the sidewalks, and garbage trucks banged against heavy dumpsters. This was my favorite time of the day. Everything came back to life and rose with the sun. A crispness in the air and a musty scent in the streets surrounded me. Maybe that’s the garbage, I thought, as I hurried down the front steps before someone saw me sneaking out.

  Mornings on the subway were just as nerve-wracking as late nights, for me anyway. Something about the abandoned stations and trash blowing across the cold concrete—as if it’s all that remained of life. It wouldn’t be this way for long though, maybe another hour or two before the city came to life.

  I jumped on the blue line along with a few other early risers. An older lady with bluish-gray hair held a shaky dog that peaked out from her purse. She handed everyone pumpkin candy from last year’s Halloween stash. A tall black man in a suit sat engaged on his cell phone and a teenager, around my age, huddled in the corner with headphones.

  Remembering the route I took with Drake, I jumped off on Canal Street and walked over toward China Town. Coming up on the street we had worked so hard to clean, littered with trash, caused my heart to ache. Up ahead, I recognized the alleyway and quickly scanned the area before I walked down the dark, enclosed space. The last thing I wanted was getting caught in a dangerous situation.

  Again, empty bottles and brown paper bags littered the alley. I checked both sides of the dumpster but came up empty. This is a stupid idea.

  I kicked a loose brick to the side and stomped toward the entrance.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” a voice called out.

  I paused mid-step, waiting to see if I had imagined it.

  “Leave,” he demanded.

  I turned to see the black-clothed bundle sitting by a trash bin.

  “Leave, Mercy Monroe.”

  “How do you know who I am?” I asked.

  “That’s a simple question. Can you do no better?”

  “Screw you.” That was a perfectly reasonable question.

  A psychotic cackle erupted throughout the alley. The fact he found me funny surprised me. Most people didn’t.

  “I need help . . . controlling my power. I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admitted.

  The hood fell from around his face, and he tilted his head toward me. “A wise Regalian knows when to ask for help. A fool is proud.”

  “I’m afraid I’ll hurt someone if I can’t control it.” I took a shaky breath, praying he would help me.

  “That’s not all you’re afraid of, is it?” he asked.

  “No. I’m . . . I’m afraid of failing.” Relief coursed through me after admitting it out loud. “I feel like everyone expects so much from me.”

  He grinned, motioning for me to sit across from him. Both hands opened in front of his lap, asking for mine. I slipped my slender hands inside his older, shaky ones. The intensity in his eyes and amused grin caused an uncomfortable chill to run up my spine.

  “You’ve grown since I saw you last. Your source burns brightly, Regalian, but you haven’t learned to control it. If you can’t find balance, it will consume you and everyone around you.”

  “How? How do I do that?” I asked.

  “Each Regalian discovers their power differently, in their own time. Not to mention you have more than one to command.”

  His words fueled my anxiety. “Can you help me, yes or no?”

  “I can try if you like. It won’t be easy.”

  I nodded once for him to continue.

  His eyes closed, so I shut mine, but opened one now and again to peer at him. Might as well be weird together. My palms were hot, and a tingling sensation traveled up my arms. The exertion of power thickened the air around us as I gasped for air. It started as a hum, as he hovered on the surface of my subconscious, his intentions unknown.

  A stabbing pain shot through my spine and caused my back to arch forward. I froze from the agony and wasn’t able to move if I wanted to. I could sense his presence searching me, invading my mind and heart with disturbing interest. We weren’t alone. Someone else violated my subconscious with him, impatiently waiting for me to reveal my strengths and weaknesses. My skull ached as though it would crack under the pressure of his assault.

  I pushed against the pain, and a burning sensation built in my chest as terror consumed me. The flame was out of my control, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t dampen it. A searing heat worked its way up my neck, as my cheeks flamed hot. Dizziness and exhaustion devoured my mind, but I wouldn’t give in.

  Pressure surrounded me, pushing me away from the threat of the mysterious man and the unknown presence invading my thoughts. A tug of war was in play as he reeled me back in, holding onto my freedom by a string. At once, a powerful internal force flung me backward, and I shook off the last of the hold. An empty space against the brick wall was all that remained in front of me. Blood dripped from my nose as I looked around the alley, the air thick with the aftermath of magic.

  I placed one foot flat on the ground, attempting to stand, but fell back against the rough brick wall. Blood continued dripping from my nose, and double vision kept me from standing up straight. Fremont—I could make it to Fremont. The brick wall guided me out of the alley, and I stumbled my way toward Canal Street.

  I knew what everyone thought of me, and sadly not uncommon to see on the street—a troubled, drunk girl. Eyes shifted back to personal business, wanting nothing to do with the girl who was obviously bad news.

  Compassion as usual.

  Closing one eye helped. I finally located the subway, and a kind homeless man balanced me by my elbow to board the rail. Sympathy filled his eyes, and I felt ashamed I had put myself in that situation. Something about the man looked familiar, but the blurred vision made me doubt myself. At my stop, he offered to assist me further. I declined and thanked him for the rare act of kindness. I staggered the rest of the way to the guild, the top of the red brick building coming into view.

  The throbbing behind my eyes worsened with each step, as my hands felt their way up the concrete steps. Angry shouts and accusations could be heard from the other side of the door, and I could make out Drake’s rage-filled voice. I turned the doorknob, praying I’d step inside before I passed out.

  “You told me you would protect her! You said I didn’t have to worry! Where is she?” Drake yelled.

  Nora’s head jerked up at the creak of the door, “Mercy! Are you. . .?”

  Ungracefully, I collapsed, and everything went black.

  . . .

  It was dark when I opened my eyes, but I recognized my soft mattress and old quilt tucked around me. Nora’s small form lay visible under her blankets. Even though she slept, I could sense her emotions. She worried about her friends, and guilt overwhelmed me for being reckless. Thankfully, the brutal throbbing in my head subsided.

  I wasn’t sure what I expected when I approached the man for help, but definitely not the suffering I experienced. My chest expanded on a deep breath, and I exhaled loudly, releasing the pent-up tension.

  Do you ever learn? Evidently not.

  I closed my eyes to everything around me so I could focus on my source. Amazing how the flicker was so visible now, the tiny orange flame so eager to burn bright. The old man’s motives were not kind, but I’ve never been so attuned to my gift. The anticipation of starting the day buzzed through me
, and I couldn’t lay still any longer. I tip-toed across the room, letting Nora sleep as long as possible.

  Someone must have taken me out of the blood-stained hoodie—only the cotton shirt I usually slept in remained. They had cleaned me up, and I honestly looked much better than I expected. As soon as I decided to brush my teeth, the toothbrush flew out of the cup and shot straight into my mouth, gagging me. I yanked it out, breathing heavily and staring at the possessed object. What just happened?

  My eyes inspected the brush, and I hesitantly reached for the toothpaste. I’d never battled a tube before, but it was evident the toothpaste didn’t plan to go gently. By the time Nora opened the bathroom door, toothpaste covered the countertop and floor, fighting for its liberty. My palm flung forward from frustration, and the tube and brush both flew against the mirror.

  “Mercy? Are you all right?” Nora asked.

  “No. No, I’m not. All I want to do is brush my teeth, and I can’t even do that!” I yelled.

  “Maybe I should grab Neela. This looks like her territory.” She quickly left me for back-up.

  A couple of minutes went by when the door slowly opened. Two familiar faces peeked in, no doubt surveying for flying objects.

  “Doin’ okay in here? I heard you got attacked by a toothbrush,” Neela said, grinning.

  I sat with my knees to my chest, paranoid I’d kill someone if I moved. “I don’t know what’s happening to me, Neela. That old man, he did something to me in the alley.”

  Neela squatted down in front of me. “Mercy, what are you talking about?”

  “I’m so sorry, I know I shouldn’t have gone without you, but I had to know if he could help me. I’m not sure what happened out there, but something awakened inside of me.”

  Neela and Nora looked at each other with wide eyes. “What old man? When?” Nora asked.

  “Earlier. When I came through the door and passed out. You were there, Nora.”

  Nora stared at me, her brows pulled in as she shook her head. “Mercy, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”