Page 16 of The Powerless Witch
I headed for Regina’s rooms next, knocking even though she had left for another assembly to discuss the next step of her plan after weakening the other supernatural communities with the trap she set. The fear—and the mild disgust—of walking in on her while she rode another charmed young man was making me go out of my way when it came to precautions. This part of our magic…I hated it. I hated having to fuck random men just so my power would stay stable, would obey my command, and not fail me when it mattered the most. But at least when they were strangers, I didn’t have to see them again. At least they were not Mathias—I wasn’t making that mistake again.
I froze on the threshold when I noticed a movement on the bed, but then I realized it was just Kalin—Regina’s familiar—and sighed with relief. The fox lowered its head on its paws, watching me set up its mistress’ expensive sweaters in one of the cupboards before hanging her shirts and dresses in the wardrobe.
I didn’t mind the familiar—I had always liked animals—since it wasn’t violent or territorial, but apart from Regina, the creature didn’t like anyone. Especially Mathias, which was fair because he was an asshole. Kalin could probably feel that he held no love for his mother and would readily hurt her if the spell didn’t restrict him from ever raising a hand to her.
I gave the fox one last look, then walked out. Kalin was probably the only creature on this planet Regina showed any real affection for and seeing them together often woke a sense of jealousy. Not that I held any hope of Regina warming up to me, but the connection they had…I wanted that. I had already lost my family, my old life. Maybe a cute familiar could fill some of that void and make my life here a little less miserable.
Unfortunately for me, they only bonded older, more powerful witches, and they were goddamn picky. But maybe one day, if I was lucky. Or if I survived that long…
I closed the door and looked at the end of the corridor, where Mathias’ room was. I hadn’t seen him since last night and he didn’t show up for breakfast, so there was a good chance he was out doing something I didn’t want to know about. Maybe if I was quick, I wouldn’t even see him. Then I could go back into my room and get some reading done before Regina came back.
This was what the fabulous life of a Head Witch’s Second had turned into. Doing chores, making food, and acting like an obedient servant for a woman I thought had saved me from a world of monsters.
Taking a deep breath, I knocked on Mathias’ door and waited. I couldn’t hear or sense anything inside, but he had the uncanny ability to turn himself undetectable, even to witches. Gritting my teeth, I twisted the handle and poked my head in. A quick look around told me he wasn’t there. Smiling at my luck, I stepped inside, leaving the door open so I could make myself scarce if he returned.
I had barely taken three steps in when I slammed my pinky toe into something lying on the ground and yelped. I dropped the basket and leaned on what appeared to be the bed, breathing through the nose as I fought with the pain. When I no longer saw stars, I carefully strode to one of the windows and yanked the curtain open.
Dim winter sunlight poured in, revealing a messy room that looked like nobody had lived in it for months. I didn’t clean Mathias’ space—that was his prerogative—so I wasn’t surprised to find a thick layer of dust on most of the surfaces. Only the bed seemed regularly used.
Shaking my head in disgust, I stomped back to the basket, picking it up. Luckily, the clothes hadn’t rolled on the dusty ground, so I just needed to put them away and get out of that place. I stepped to the closest cupboard and opened the top drawer. It creaked mournfully, and I winced, but a look inside told me where his T-shirts went. The second drawer held pants and underwear—the color for everything predominantly red, gray, and black; the final one held his winter sweaters and turtlenecks.
I was just setting the last of his laundry down when my finger brushed against something hidden between the clothes inside the drawer. I pushed away the shirt on top of it and raised an eyebrow when I realized it was a picture frame. Looking over my shoulder to make sure I was still alone, I picked it up curiously.
I wasn’t sure what I expected to see—maybe a photo of a woman or a man he was secretly in love with; maybe someone he stalked or killed and wanted to remember their face. There weren’t any pictures of Mathias himself, so maybe he had one taken somewhere in the human world as some twisted proof that he existed.
What I didn’t expect to see was my own face looking back at me with the biggest of smiles. My breath caught in my throat when I recognized the dark eyes, the long brown hair, and the features that I had seen in the mirror every day, features both familiar and foreign. Yet the me in this picture…she was young, she couldn’t have been more than twelve. The me from…before.
That meant Mathias knew who I was before Regina took me in. Before she told me the police couldn’t find my real name or family and, until I remembered, I could stay here. Before I took the oath that bound me to her will.
My vision blurred and the dark room melted into the floor, while colors exploded everywhere. Three silhouettes moved through a brightly lit kitchen with big windows and flowerpots on the sills, laughing and talking with words I couldn’t quite hear. When they noticed me standing there like a dark shadow that was corrupting the blinding light, they all turned to look at me. Their conversation halted, and I narrowed my eyes in an attempt to see past the shine that hid their faces from me. I could swear they were smiling, but I couldn’t see it, I couldn’t remember it.
Remember. This felt…like a memory.
One of the figures, the smallest of the three, pushed herself off the kitchen counter, moving toward me. My body locked, not in fear, but in anticipation, and even though the light that moved with her blinded me painfully, I didn’t want to look away. I was sure that once she got closer, I would be able to see her face. Recognize it. Remember it.
The figure stopped in front of me, offering a hand for me to take. Hesitation passed through me as I stared at the small, delicate fingers with chipped black nail polish. I tried to take the hand, but my body resisted the movement. Gritting my teeth, I tried again and again until slowly, painfully, I reached out. She waited, as if knowing I needed the time.
The moment our fingers touched, light exploded from everywhere, burning my eyes and slithering deep into my brain. Pain like I had never felt before surged through every cell in my body. I clenched my head and screamed.
A moment passed, or maybe a lifetime, and the pain finally subsided enough for my vision to start working. I realized I was clutching the cupboard with one trembling hand, the other one squeezing the photograph so hard that I had cracked the glass protecting it. My young face kept staring at me, so bright and happy that I started questioning if it was really me in that picture.
“Don’t you know it’s impolite to touch other people’s things without their permission?”
I spun around at the sound of Mathias’ voice, only to find him standing behind me with his hands in his pockets. He wore just a thin shirt and his inside shoes, which meant he might have been in the house all along.
Pushing away the thought that he had caught me snooping in his room, I raised the photograph in front of his face.
“Where did you get this?” I hissed, trying to keep my hand stable but failing miserably. The pain sang beneath my skin and my own raging emotions were making it hard to breathe. I had almost given up on uncovering my past after all those years—no matter how hard I tried, I had never been able to remember, and with my oath to Regina, I doubted I could ever leave this place. But now I knew it was out there—my family, and the life I had before. One full of smiles and laughter. I needed to know; I needed to see it, if only from afar. I needed to make sure it was real. “Tell me! Where did you get this? Do you know about my past? Mathias, tell me!”
He sighed dramatically, glancing at the picture frame before pushing it out of his face. I allowed it, only because I needed an answer from him. I was ready to smile and be nice—beg even—just to find out what he knew.
He opened his mouth, and I leaned closer, impatience making my skin prickle, but then his eyes met mine and my heart dropped.
“I’m tired. Get out,” he said, pushing past me. I watched him head toward his bathroom, not bothering to check if I had listened to him. Despite my better judgment, I remained rooted in my spot.
“No,” I whispered, and he paused, still with his back to me. “No,” I said again, louder this time. “You will tell me what you know. Now! Or I swear to the goddess, I will hurt you!” I gritted my teeth, readying myself for whatever came. He moved with a speed no human—not even a witch—should possess, his magic lashing out like a phantom wind that I didn’t feel before it was too late. It wrapped around me like an invisible hand, raising me from the floor and tossing me across the room. I braced myself for the painful fall, but I landed on the bed. I tried to get up and free my hands, but his magic tightened around me so firmly that I couldn’t even take a breath.
Mathias strode to the bed without hurry. He stared down thoughtfully before climbing on top of me and bracketing my waist with his long, lean legs. His magic released me and I sucked in a sharp breath right before his fingers wrapped around my throat.