Of Frost & Cinder (Old Version)

Between A Witch and A Werewolf

I stand, kicking the wooden chair out from underneath me. It takes all of my might not to lunge across the table at her.

"Put your hand down before I break that damn finger," I seethe.

"Oh, I pressed a button?" Olivian rolls her eyes. "Good. Now, let's chat."

"I found the spell on Google. It was some weird purple and black witchy site with pictures of crystals and salt," I say, hoping she accepts this. It's not completely a lie, but rather a rearranged memory. I had visited that weird site, the day that I had been Googling about the supernatural and Ironide.

After a minute of weighing this information, she snorts and crosses one leg over the other. "No wonder you were vomiting your brains out. Who knows if the spell was right, let alone executed correctly?"

"Wrong? You mean there's a chance that the spell didn't take?"

She nods, "Nothing's fool proof, not even magic. To be honest, I'm shocked you didn't have any other side effects. Some spells can disfigure the caster's face or cause them to grow an extra limb."

"What?" Pete gasps.

She shrugs, "Well, all that energy has to go somewhere. It doesn't just disappear."

When Pete and I share a frown, she groans. "Magic is like a boomerang. When you cast, you release that energy...that 'boomerang'. While it's flying the energy surges with it, but after so long, the boomerang will start to curve and return. The difference with Magic is that when it does return, it returns tenfold. It's like, three times more intense than it was when you first released it."

"Do you feel differently?" Beck asks from across the way. He's still leaning up against the door, but it's only now that I notice that the distance seems more emotional than it does physical. If Olivian wasn't here, he'd probably be mocking me for something stupid, like how I had no problem gutting him with a skate or pointing a gun at his head, but it's the vomit that makes me faint.

Now, he just seems solemn, guarded, the same way he did when we first met. Is he always this...tense around her?

"No," I shake my head, but that's not true. Despite feeling that I need to double scrub in the shower, physically I feel fine, but how I feel emotionally is an entirely different story.

"You need to say something if you do."

His expression is so grave and serious that I almost feel bad for lying, but I don't want to say much in front of Olivian. I haven't figured out her motivation yet, but if it comes down to it, I trust that she'll protect Beck over anyone else...but that doesn't mean I trust her.

"Really, I'm fine." I attempt a reassuring smile, but he either doesn't get it or the face I've made is more awkward than it should be. "But, I do have a lot more questions than I have answers right now."

"Do you remember something?"

"Sort of. At least, I think so. It's all kind of a fuzzy mess of jumbled images. So, what I think I remember, may or may not have actually happened."

Olivian frowns, and before she speaks, Beck says, "We think someone was trying to tamper with her memories."

"Beck thinks I saw something I shouldn't have, like a supernatural being murdered."

"But, we won't know for sure until we know who was dishing out the Ironide."

A lump swells in my throat. That, I do remember, and as much as I hate it, I know that wasn't a dream. That was real, and though it may not have led into my house exploding, my Dad did hand Mom my iron pills. I know this because it happened right before we left for my first grade play. It all seems so ironic now—that I was dressed as a wolf when this whole thing began. Three hours ago, I had no idea why or who had done this to me, but all along, the culprits have been sitting right under my nose, talking to me face-to-face as if they had no qualms about ripping apart my life to create a false safety net.