If the situation were any less threatening, I might have laughed at the fact that it was them and not me getting grabbed. There was no time for chuckles, though. As the would-be kidnappers grabbed at Pat and Reshad and pulled them toward the van, Rhett took to action. He jumped the fence and rushed to their aid before one of the three kidnappers wheeled upon him.
Well, I wasn't sure why Rhett wasn't flinging spells yet, but I had no intentions of letting them take him. Not if I could help it. "Let him go!" I yelled, hand tightening on the mug.
It was then that the kidnappers noticed my presence.
"Grab her, too. Hurry!"
A taller figure lunged through the opening to the patio and reached for me like he didn't expect a fight. Naturally, I emptied the scalding contents of my cup into his face, and as he floundered, I slapped him with the mug. The ceramic shattered, flying everywhere. The man hit the ground. He blubbered and cupped his jaw with a steady glow at his fingers.
They were witches! That gave me less to worry about. The third one delegated her attempt to get Reshad to the other man and came at me with her hands out.
Jeez. Were they witches or not? I threw my hand up and cast Push. The girl slammed into the van and slid to the ground, leaving a dent. She didn't get back up right away.
"Rhett!" I raced around the boy at my feet, or tried to, and yelped as he grabbed my ankle. My body swung forward into certain agony with a chant of no.
With a gasp, Reshad abandoned his efforts to save Pat and slashed his hand in my direction. The stones beneath me rippled and softened, and as I landed, it didn't hurt. Impressive. As curious as I was, though, there'd be time to wonder about learning that spell later.
Pushing off of the ground, I darted forward only stop short as I saw Rhett. He was being held by someone inside the van. A wand—never mind how ineffective they were—was pointed at his head. Well. That explained why he wasn't doing anything.
The man behind me grabbed me around my middle and hefted me into the air.
"Watch it!" I yelled, writhing in his grip as I was dragged inside the van. There wasn't much else to do in my position. "If you break anything I'll retaliate!"
"Shut up, already," the man said, nearly growling the words out as he lowered me. "Cast one more spell and you'll regret it."
Once he released me, I faced him and scooted backwards to the wall of the van.
Pat climbed in with full cooperation and the woman wrangled Reshad in last. She dragged the sliding door shut and slammed the wall. "Let's go!"
The jerk with the wand released Rhett and joined his fellow kidnappers by the doors.
Rhett crawled to my side, looking me over. "You okay, Vee?"
I shrugged. "Nothing broken."
The van jostled and squealed as the van rolled off the sidewalk and onto the street.
"What are you after, here?" I asked, glaring at the guy with hot chocolate staining the collar of his shirt. He didn't respond, and instead chuckled. As he leaned toward his pals, he whispered something. Something along the lines of how whatever was coming was going to be good. I didn't like that.
My gaze flicked to the front of the van. The driver was visible to me. A terrible idea formed. Leaning closer to Rhett, I whispered, "Hold on to something."
"Vee, wait—"
Too late. Raising a hand to the driver, I cast the Sleep spell with an easy flick of my wrist. They slumped over the wheel and the car swerved.
One of the kidnappers rushed toward the front, the one with stains, but I tripped him. He swung forward. With great effort, I shot off the floor and crawled over the kidnapper, much to his crudely expressed dissatisfaction.
The van jarred as we went off-road and downhill. Grabbing the wheel, I swung it just in time to veer us around a tree.
"Move!" The kidnapper was on his feet again, trying to pull me from his way.
"Back off," Rhett yelled, grabbing him from behind with an arm wrapped around his throat. "Stop the van, Vee!"
"Trying!" I slid into the driver's seat and saw lights flashing in the side mirror. It was then that I heard the blaring sirens. Rescue! All I had to do was stop the damn thing.
We jerked with each press of the brakes until coming to a full stop. As I turned the car off, I threw the door open and slid into tall, snowy grass. I yanked the sliding door open.
They were wrestling, sort of. Pat was out for the count, but the other two were going strong. Cop cars wheeled up behind the van with a blip-blip noise. Good. They weren't with the council, though, by the looks of them. That was less good.
"Hands up!" a Mundane officer yelled, his car door flying open and his gun drawn.
I threw my hands in the air and sunk to the ground, relieved and annoyed all at once. I had no idea how they knew we were in trouble, but at least we weren't being kidnapped.
***
Seeing that I declined a cozy hospital bed, the officers decided I was well enough to take down to the station. We were all separated into little rooms where I figured they'd be interrogating us. I wasn't sure why they were interrogating me, though, as I was one of the victims.
The door opened and a man with graying hair came in. The aesthetic of his look was pleasing to me; tall and brooding with a trench coat. I loved trench coats. His face was marred with scratches, but he had a pair of perfectly fine, black eyes. He rubbed his bearded chin and plopped into the seat across from me.
"How're you doin', kid?"
I shrugged. "Been worse."
The man snorted and stirred the dark liquid in his styrofoam cup with a red straw. It smelled like hazelnut. "Wanna tell me your version of the events?"
Did I want to? No. I was tired, hungry, and I wanted to go home. Sighing through my nose, I crossed my arms. "Should be obvious. The people in masks kidnapped us. I did everything I could to get us into your custody. That's it. Anything else, and I have to wait on representation."
"The others aren't talking. Say they're waiting on representation, too. I swear, you magic kids always say the same damn thing. Yours is a new face though, kid."
First of all, Hillfort was a city, but I'd let that slide. Second, it was protocol to say we were waiting on representation until council officers arrived. That's what they taught us in the academy. While it was true Mundane were accepting of magic and encouraged to leave us be, there were risks.
"I've been at a university across the country," I said, folding my arms and squinting at him. "Are you new to Hillfort?"
A wry grin settled on his face. "Yes. Got here a month ago. Weird place."
"Yeah." I gestured to the door. "Am I free to go? I should get home."
"You gonna walk?"
I rubbed my forehead and sank back into the chair. "I gave my parents' landline number to your officers. Did they even call?"
He arched a brow. "No cellphones?"
Cell-what? Brow furrowed, I shook my head.
"The kids in this town," he mumbled, rubbing his face before taking a sip of coffee. Setting the mug down, he cleared his throat. "What's your name?"
"My information should be under Vera Tate."
"Yeah, yeah. I've got your file. Just an odd way to tell us your name, Vera. Raises some questions."
"I recently . . . married," I said, unable to stop the grimace that followed. "Does it matter?"
The man leaned forward and brought his voice to a whisper, "You in some kind of trouble, kid?"
"No, sir. I just want to go home."
The door swung open. A woman strode in, dressed for business with an MRO sigil embroidered on her breast pocket. She slapped a piece of paper onto the table. "We'll take it from here. Miss, come with me."
"What?" The detective rose and flipped the paper open. "What's the MRO want with this shit-show?"
"That's none of your concern."
The detective was right. The Magic Relations Office usually only dealt in encounters where Mundane were involved. In cases like ours, where witches attacked witches, the council sent Magic Bureau representatives to oversee the investigation. Seeing as there was no Mundane activity, I wondered what the big deal was.
"Wait a moment, we need to get this straight"—a voice rang from the hall with a slam—"You don't have the authority!"
The woman glanced at the detective and gestured for me to wait. "I'll need a moment. Stay here. The investigation is confidential so I advise you to keep quiet."
That meant I wasn't to humor the detective at all. I nodded.
When the woman left, the detective pursed his lips at me. "Hell of a day, huh?"
Slightly amused, I nodded. "I didn't get your name."
The man yanked a wallet from his pocket and offered me a business card. "If you are in trouble, kid, call any time." He tapped the side of his forehead. "I have a sense for these things, and something about you is screamin' at me."
It wasn't unheard of for a Mundane to be an intuit, but he didn't outright say he was psychic or anything. It surprised me all the same. I took the business card, folding the corner of the card back and forth. Daniel Nguyen. I wondered if he might be useful at some point down the line. "Thank you."
"Sure thing. I'll catch you later, kid." Just as he moved for the door, Lucien Lacroix appeared in his path. "Who're you?"
Crimson eyes examined me before he spared the detective a glance. "I'll be taking my wife."
If that bothered Daniel, he didn't say anything about it. He stayed where he was, watching Lucien with a squint that made me think he might actually be some sort of intuit. I'd have to file that away for later, though.
"Let's go."
I stood, a bit reluctantly, and shoved the card in my pocket. "But the MRO agent told me to wait."
"Shall I carry you?" Lucien asked, tilting his head. There was a teasing look in his eyes, like he knew better.
"No," I bit out, glancing at the detective. "I can walk."
Placing a hand at my back, Lucien guided me past the man out to the lobby. Rhett was there, along with Pat, Reshad, and the unmasked kidnappers who deserved to be behind bars if I had anything to say about it.
"You there. Wait. You can't take her. She's with me!"
Oh. I looked back. The MRO agent faltered as Lucien turned, her eyes growing wide. "Lucien Lacroix? That's . . . she—"
"If you wish to question my wife, you may find us at the Tate residence."
"Of . . . of course, sir."
Oh, Goddess. Why? Closingmy eyes and biting back a humiliated shriek, I hung my head. The cat was out ofthe bag for sure.
After giving Lucien the silent treatment the whole ride home, I sat on the couch and stewed. Lucien took occupancy of the seat beside mine as Mom and Dad chattered through our mutual silence. The fact that his anger wasn't outwardly expressed—and I knew he was angry—made me all the more certain that he was perhaps the angriest I'd ever seen him. Whether it was directed at me or the kidnappers, I wasn't sure.
Once my parents made an excuse to leave the room, I watched them go before wheeling my stare to Lucien.
"I can't believe you did that," I whispered, chewing on my bottom lip as I twisted the strings of my hoody. "Now everyone will know."
"My apologies." He didn't seem to mean it. "My temper got the best of me."
Ugh. I crossed my arms and sighed. "How'd you even know I was in trouble?"
A short laugh pressed through his tight lips. "I figured where there were sirens you would not be far."
"That's not fair," I said, glaring at the bulb in the lamp above us. It was starting to flicker. "I didn't do anything."
"A joke." Lucien spared me a glance. "Your mother called and asked me to fetch you."
Of course, she did. Mom was sneaky. She obviously had every intention of making sure we were close. Never mind how inappropriate it was.
The doorbell rang. Dad jogged past the living room entrance and swung the door open. "Ah, please come in."
The council agent followed Dad in. She brushed her hair behind her ears, and bowed her chin. "It appears the kidnapping was a misunderstanding."
A misunderstanding? I glared at the floor. How could a kidnapping attempt ever be called a misunderstanding? It was still kidnapping.
"If you would please explain," Lucien said frostily.
The agent was quick to oblige. "Of course. The kidnappers were students from Hillfort College. They were collecting their freshman for initiation. They assumed Mrs. Lacroix and Mr. Collins were freshmen of their university."
Unbelievable. I gnashed my teeth together before speaking, "So late in the year?"
"The initiation was not sanctioned. The students responsible will be appropriately punished by Hillfort College. Unless"—she looked between us—"Unless you seek reparations?"
"That will not be necessary," Lucien said, his posture less rigid as he leaned back into the couch cushion. "We press no charges. Do you require a statement from my wife?"
My stomach flipped. Why did he have to keep saying that?
The woman shook her head. "We got what we needed from the witnesses and other students."
"Thank you for your work," Lucien said coolly, the dismissal all too clear.
The woman performed an awkward sort of curtsy and took her leave, escorted by Dad. When he returned to the living room, rubbing his palms together, he grinned. "Well, thank goodness it wasn't anything nefarious, huh?"
Lucien stood, offering my father a smile. "Indeed. I must go. There are some matters I must attend. I shall see you tomorrow evening—unless you find more trouble before then."
"Nice seeing you again," Dad said, gesturing to the door. "I'll walk you out."
Saying my goodbyes, I made my way upstairs to forget I existed for a while.
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