The Legend of the Eight: The Twisted (Book 3)

6: Ordinary People

As expected, when she walked in through the foyer, Clarion was checking in for their flight on her phone. Walter came down the steps with his briefcase and he smiled when he saw the Eight enter.

"Sorry we're running out on all of you again," he apologized as he set his briefcase by the door and headed towards the kitchen, followed by the teens. "This was certainly not the idea we had in mind when we pitched this new life."

"I trust you all can handle yourselves without us," Clarion said though her voice turned up at the end like she was asking a question. "It is only for a weekend, after all."

"Oh Mother," Wil sighed and then chuckled. "Your lack of faith in us is laughable."

Clarion rolled her eyes at her oldest daughter and proceeded to pour herself tea in a travel mug for the car. As she did, the door leading to the backyard slid open and Damon entered the kitchen with a messenger bag hanging off his shoulder.

"Walter," Clarion said once she was finished with her tea. She made a gesture with her finger and then they both disappeared down the hall mysteriously.

"That was weird," said Kate as she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and then sat with it at the island counter.

"They're probably finalizing their travel plans," Nicole said optimistically, even though the reality was, of all the things Clarion and Walter could be discussing, who gets the window seat was not among them.

While her parents were out of the room, Wil walked over to Damon and they kissed quickly. It was the first time that Nicole had seen them together and surprisingly, it wasn't nearly as weird as she thought it would be. In fact, they almost made sense. When they were together, they looked like that's how they were always meant to be.

"Be safe, okay?" Wil told him—speaking so quietly, it was a wonder how Nicole even overheard her. "Some of those stuffy Armory people have a lot to say about Alties and I don't want you getting in the middle of it."

"Alties?" Nicole asked, brows furrowed.

"Wizards with Alternative Magic," Damon explained, wrapping a casual arm around Wil while they stood together. "Think, anyone who's not Pure. So Darks, werewolves, halfbloods—"

"Us," Drew said from the breakfast nook where he sat with Phoebe and Nicole faced him, confused. One of the first things she learned about herself when she found out about magic was that she and her sister, Mare, came from a very long line of Pure Wizards. Pure. Not Alties.

"Our Eight Magic," Kate said to explain away Nicole's confusion. "It alters our magical makeup. We're not Pure anymore."

"Another thing to thank our lovely parents for," said Wil with an eye roll, spinning out of Damon's arms in order to keep from exposing their relationship should her parents walk back in. She walked to the counter and rested her elbows against it and when no one said anything right away, she looked around the kitchen with a crease in her forehead. "What? Have we moved on from the blaming our parents for every bad thing ever?"

Kate rolled her shoulders to ease the tension she'd been holding there. Then she cleared her throat.

"I don't think we're blaming our parents as much as we're looking to them for answers. They're the only ones who have them, after all."

Before anyone had a chance to get another word in edgewise, Clarion and Walter returned to the kitchen from their sidebar and any conversation about the Eight ceased. Nicole was glad.