Page 11 of Unbound

“I’ve seen a few documentaries,” I say. “I think the closest thing I’ve gotten is, uh, watching Captain America.”

“It started out innocently enough,” she says. “They paid witches to volunteer for clinical studies. We wanted to figure out what gave us our powers. We told them it was simple. It followed bloodlines. Really not any different than inheriting a physical trait from someone.” She exhales. “But people voluntarily showing up and telling the government they came from powerful lines of witches only made things worse. They wanted to experiment on siblings. Children. See what kind of magic was passed from mother to daughter.”

She pauses. “The volunteers became, well…not volunteers anymore, if you know what I mean.” She takes a breath as we flip through a few more pages of notes. “It seems to have gotten better in the late eighties once the Grand Coven got involved. The world doesn’t know witches exist, but governments do in one sense or another.” She gives me a half smile. “The same way everyone knows the CIA is covering up the existence of aliens.”

“I never thought about it,” I confess and stare down at a page of notes until my vision blurs. It’s about a thirteen-year-old girl named Lindsay who showed promise until she was put under too much stress and her powers went inward, whatever that means.

There are no more notes after that…and her name has been crossed out.

“So you think the Order is still doing what the government claimed it stopped doing?” I ask.

“Yes,” she says definitely. “The Order and different factions of governments around the world have always worked together.” She almost winces before continuing. “And I do think the Order started with good intentions. If you look at the black and white of it, what they’re doing sounds right. Demons are bad. Getting rid of bad things is good. But where do you draw that line…”

“…is where the water gets muddy,” I finish. “The Order thinks witches and werewolves are supernatural creatures that should be killed. So my theory that the Order is trying to make super soldiers they can control using magic is correct?”

“Yes,” she says. “Along with figuring out one other thing.”

“What?”

“If they can figure out where our magic comes from, they can put a stop to it.”

I stare at her in horrified disbelief.

“Think of it as magical birth control.”

“I feel like I’m living in a science fiction movie,” I say.

“You’re telling me.” She laughs. “Come on. Let’s go to the Covenstead. I can make copies of this notebook, and you can keep the original if you’d like. Is there anything else useful in that bag?”

I look through it, finding another vial of blood, though this one is unlabeled. There are a few weapons and candles too, probably used in the ritual to summon Vaelric the first time.

“Not really,” I tell her.

I close the notebook and put it back in the bag, then I pull the seatbelt over myself and resist the urge to check my phone. I’m doing nothing wrong by going with Marie to learn where I came from. If we want to lock Vaelric back in a cage, I’m going to need other witches to help me do it anyway. But I also know how much Xavier would not want me here right now.

So I’m not going to tell him. And that alone feels icky.

We make it maybe ten minutes from the warehouse before a very obvious thought smacks me upside the head.

“You’re from New Orleans, right?”

“Born and raised,” she replies.

“How are we gonna get there in an hour?” I ask. “You said I’m going to your home.”

She chuckles as a smile spreads across her face. “Honey, portals don’t work that way.”

“Portals?”

She reaches over and pats my knee.

“You are in for such a treat. I’m so excited I get to be the one to show you all this.”

I look at the black screen of my phone in my hands, my mind whirling over what to text Xavier. I haven’t heard from him since he left, which means whatever he’s dealing with isn’t good. With everything else going on, the fact that I’m married to the boss of a supernatural mafia is almost lost on me. Xavier and Theo keep a precarious hold over a group of very different, very powerful individuals.

They’ve kept peace and order for centuries, and losing that order could be catastrophic for the entire city.

Marie pulled off the interstate several minutes ago, and now we’re driving down a road in serious need of repaving. There’s a motel at the end, and the “T” in the neon MOTEL sign is burned out.