Magic's Mark

Chapter 1

"So you are going to leave without saying hi?"

A spark of anger charged through me. I didn't know who this guy was or why I felt such a pull towards him, but that still didn't mean that he had to be arrogant.

"I'm going home."

I shot him a blank stare.

"I saw you looking at me earlier," he smiled at me.

Something about his smile almost disarmed me, until I reminded myself that he was a stranger.

"I just wanted to introduce myself..."

He stretched out his hand to me, "I'm Taylor."

His brown eyes were locked on me as I reached my hand out.

"I'm Cara."

When I shook his hand, something jolted through me. A surge of electricity rushed through his hand to mine. As if his touch had burned me, I released myself quickly from his handshake. His eyes twinkled as if he knew something I didn't.

"I have to go now," I pushed out before bolting down one of the many alleyways. 

As I hurried away only one thing kept passing through my mind – what had happened? Never before had I felt that kind of energy. I had never felt pulled towards someone like I had him.

I ran down another alleyway, before stopping abruptly. My hand pushed against the uneven gravel of the brick wall as my upper body folded over and I retched onto the street. My body was shaking and I could feel my eyes tear up. I pulled my handbag further up on my shoulder and continued to hurried down the small street. I needed to get home. I started to feel more and more disoriented.

My hands shook as I forced the key into the lock, twisting it and pushing down the handle. Pulling the door shut behind me as quickly as I could. The hallway was littered with post, but I ignored that. Quickly walking past our neighbours' door and up the stairs. I unlocked our front door and finally allowed myself to sink down to the floor. My hands continued to shake and I could feel an energy vibrating through my body.

"Cara?" Matthew rushed to my side. "Are you okay?"

I looked up at my roommate and gave him the only plausible explanation I could think of, "I think someone slipped something in my drink..."

Matthew scooped me up from the floor and led me on shaky legs towards my bedroom.

"Thank God you got home alright," he whispered into my ear.

~*~

I stared up at the crack that ran across the top of my cream coloured wall, threatening to creep into the ceiling. The shading around it almost looked like a cobweb. Thinking to myself for the hundredth time that if I had some money left over at the end of the month I should really paint it over.

Rolling out of bed, I expected my head to be heavy and suffering from the effects of last night. I had never had my drink spiked before but I assumed it would be the worst kind of hangover. Standing up, I looked out of the window and my head felt surprisingly clear. I spotted a couple of children walking across the street in their school uniforms. Strangely, I actually felt completely rested and filled with energy.

I pushed open my bedroom door, walking through our messy living room and into the kitchen.

"Feeling better?" Matthew asked as he bit into a piece of toast.

"Yeah," I admitted as I tipped a few brim filled teaspoons of instant coffee into the mug, before pouring over the steaming water from the kettle.

"What are you up to today?" he asked me. A question that always had a different answer for me but not for him, his nine to five job kept his schedule very predictable.

I pulled out my iPhone and swiped my way to my calendar.

"I have a job today in Mayfair," I said and scrunched up my nose. I hated those jobs, being at posh events always forced me to dress up and be all polite.

"Have fun with the snobs," Matthew laughed at me when he saw my expression.

As I got ready to leave I groaned internally, I hated these posh events but I needed the money so I couldn't turn it down. I pulled on a basic black dress and scrolled through my emails finding the event details. It looked like this was some kind of yearly breakfast conference and they wanted shots of people mingling around and enjoying themselves. I rolled my eyes – rich people.

Parking my bike outside the towering brick building, I glance up at its imposing structure. I pulled down my black dress that had slid up during the bike ride and pushed the strap of my handbag higher up on my shoulder.

My eyes danced across the black and white tile floor as I stepped into the lobby of the hotel. It was so beautiful, I reminded myself to take a few scenery shots for my own collection when I was done with the job. I walked across the lobby to a man that looked like he was in charge, wearing a well-fitted black suit and a lightly coloured striped tie he looked over his black glasses at me.

"I'm here for the conference," I pulled out my camera, "to take the photos."

"Right this way Miss," he walked up the grand staircase and I followed.

He led me down a hallway to a grand room. The beautiful windows opened up to the street downstairs and the room was filled with well-dressed people milling about. Shielding my face with my camera, I stepped into the room. I started to snap photos, trying to protect myself from any interaction. I always felt uncomfortable doing these kinds of jobs, a constant feeling of not belonging. But I kept snapping away, even being this kind of photographer was better than not one at all. The beautiful, rich people kept grabbing little breakfast like hors d'œuvres from the waiters passing through the room.

About half an hour later the crowd started to settled along the great oak table in the centre the room. I got a few shots of everyone sitting down before I let myself out of the room. Closing the door gently behind me, trying hard not to disturb their meeting.

Walking along the corridor the hotel suddenly seemed quiet, as if there was no one left. As if everyone had headed off for the day. I let my hand grace along the mahogany banister about to walk down the grand stairs to the lobby when something stopped me dead in my tracks.

A beautiful, blond haired guy in an expensive suit was having an argument with another man.

"You won't get away with this," the blond haired guy said.

The thin, very pale guy pushed back his crow black hair and stared him down, "Do you really think that threatening me is a good idea?"

"Aaron, you will pay," the blond haired guy growled. His suit jacket had risen up and crinkled around his shoulders as he squared up, ready to fight.

"Don't threaten me, Lucas," the guy who clearly must be Aaron said.

Both men stretched their hands up in front of their bodies, like some sort of absurd fight stance. They pushed their open palms forward.

I felt myself hunching down at the banister, completely engrossed by the scene that was playing out in the lobby.

They both spread their fingers out, opening out their palms even more whilst scowling into each others' eyes.

The energy flowed out of their open palms, from Lucas' hands blue lighting was streaming out freely met by a red flash of energy from Aaron's. I felt a hum of energy pass through my body. The two men pushed their palms forward making the rays of light and colour rush out even faster. Something within me, pulled in my stomach as I watched the energy hover in the air, before it turned darting up towards me. A wave of light forcefully crashed into me, before evaporating. My body hummed with power as the energy pushed through my veins. I stared down, both of their eyes were fixed on me as a look of disbelief marveled across both of their faces.

Song: Zella Day - High