Twisted Magic (Book 2 of the Ink Series)

Empathy for none

I pushed away the sand, and where the candle sat melting was a smooth stone. I lifted it, the warmth and glow told me all I needed to know. This was my sign the spell worked. I kissed it and slipped it into my pocket.

I ran to the edge of the water excited for the next spell. If I did what the book said I could see anyone I wanted. I scooped water from the ocean and held it in my hands, tiny drops escaping through the delicate crack in my hands. I concentrated on the cool water.

Let it be

Let me see

All the things I want to see

Raven hair, blue eyes

Show me Slade

Make me wise

I gasped. There before me was the liquid image of Slade in my hands. His eyes were closed, and he was in bed—alone.

"Words. Show me words," I ordered. I watched the water change, casting away Slade's sleeping image and replacing it with a more awake alert one. His face was angry, upset even. He tugged at his hair, shaking his head in frustration.

"Words show me words," I said again, begging for what I desired most, a peek into the world of Slade when I wasn't there to get a phony version.

"You got what you wanted, now leave me alone," Slade said. "Does it feel good? Do you feel like the better person?"

His expression pained me. "I did what you asked. If that's everything I want to go home." He bit down on his lip in angst. I wished I could see past him to whom he was talking to, but it was no use. The magic only worked so far. And I wasn't strong enough to push it further.

Dad's voice cut through the magic turning the water in my hand back into useless water. I spun around.

"What are you doing out here this late?" He started across the sand to me. "It's too late to be wandering around alone." He wrapped an arm around me and headed back to the house.

"I couldn't sleep," I said.

"Me either," he stumbled up the steps and took a seat before he made a bigger fool out of his self. I sat down next to him.

I wasn't going to ask him why he was drinking. I knew why he was drinking. I almost understood it anymore. Dad tapped a beat on his leg and elbowed me into motion.

"She's gone, oh why ..." he sang softly making me smile. I started singing along with him until he stopped and let me take over while he kept the rhythm to the song. It took me back to my favorite time, when the only guy who mattered in my life was him, someone who would never hurt me on purpose.

I stopped singing, and the two of us broke into laughter, "That was nice, just like old times."

Dad agreed. "I need to remember the finer things in life. Like my kids and the fact I am alive."

I laid my head against Dad's arm. "Ain't that the truth? I don't think I will ever understand people's fascination with love." I sighed.

"Sure you will. When you're in it's a wonderful thing, when you're out of its brutal."

"Would you do it again?" I asked him. Would he want to fall in love and have his heart broken again?

Dad nodded. "I'd do it in a heartbeat. There was a time when your mother was the best thing that ever happened to me, Hope." He kissed my cheek. "You should call her sometime."

"I don't want to call her," I said. "She's supposed to want to call me. I'm her daughter."

"She thinks you hate her. I know your mother better than anyone, when she thinks she messed up it's easier for her to run then to stand up to her failure."

"And I don't like that about her."

"You don't have to, but that doesn't change the way things are or who she is to you. What she is supposed to mean to you." Dad squeezed my arm. "This guy, Slade, why the change?"

I looked away. I never talked about boys with Dad. "We just aren't compatible. I care too much, and he cares too little." That was our relationship in a nutshell. "I don't know what he is thinking. And he doesn't care."

Dad scrubbed his chin. "Is that it?"

Of course, it wasn't. I sighed. "I saw him kissing someone else. After telling me there was nothing going on between them." I brushed my hair from my shoulder. "Like I said he doesn't show that he cares. I don't think he does anymore at all, if he ever did even."

"I know it hurts, and has you thinking about you. But it has nothing to do with you. These are Slade's own personal issues not yours. Don't hate him, but don't let him treat you bad either, Hope." Dad stood up. "Just let it go. Everything happens for a reason."

I followed him back inside. "What if there are more reasons than usual?" Like magic and witches, things my dad would never believe if I told him.

Dad searched my eyes for more of an explanation confused by my statement. "Well, I don't know what that is if you don't tell me. Even so, even with reasons that doesn't give any guy a right to treat my daughter bad."

I rolled my eyes and smirked at Dad. "You're bias."

"I am, but I'm your father. I am supposed to be. I'm not supposed to root for your misery. I have enough of my own. I don't want that for you. What about this other guy, the tall one?"

I scrunched my nose. Was he trying to be a matchmaker?

"He seemed nice. No tattoos, he was wearing other colors besides black."

"Dad, it's called style and preference. Slade likes black there is nothing wrong with that." I started toward the hallway and stopped. "And as for Hutch, he is a very nice boy, too nice for his own good." I could imagine I would end up hurting him somehow. Someone as nice and caring as Hutch it was bound to happen.

We said goodnight to each other, and I slipped under the covers while dad snuck another drink. I listened to the sound of his door opening and closing. The squeak of his bed and the low hum of his television, I turned over and fell asleep.