One
Gasping for air, my stomach cramped, and I shot to a seated position. The rough linens around my legs wrinkled in my grip. I squinted, blinking as the too-bright lights of the unfamiliar room burned my dry eyes.
“Deep breaths, sweetie.” A woman’s mellow voice contrasted the high-pitched beeping around me. I clung to her words, my chest expanding with each breath. One finger at a time, I released my death grip on the blankets.
Something bad happened. The simple thought almost made me laugh before a sob ripped out of my throat. I closed my eyes, and memories punched through my confusion.
The echo of bullets rang in my ears while flames consumed the cream velvet walls of my apartment. Smoke stung my eyes and burned my lungs, making my breaths shallow. The Magical Authorities’ distinct blue and red uniforms were visible through the haze as they destroyed the only home I’d ever known.
In the middle of it all, my master, my world, had collapsed over his heavy bronze work table. Glass beakers lay broken around him, and his laptop sparked where blood ran between the keys and flowed into the remains of a bright pink potion. A small cloud of sickly reddish-pink magic rolled up from the two liquids that never should have combined. The bright gem red rims around my master’s irises glowed with a fraction of his normal magic. His head hardly moved as his gaze met mine.
I bolted toward him.
“Stop!” A voice rang above everything.
I didn’t stop; my master was my everything. I had to be by his side.
Two steps later, pain bit into my thigh. I screamed as my leg crumpled. A second projectile hit my shoulder, which sent me flying sideways. My stomach hit the plush carpet, and I moaned in pain as darkness edged my vision.
I fought past the agony to focus on the only thing that mattered. One of my master’s bloody hands limply reached out for me, but all I could do was watch. The light left his eyes. My mouth twisted in silent horror as his arm and head thumped onto the table and went deathly still.
A hand touched my back, jolting me back to the present. I swallowed a shriek and pulled the sheet to my chest.
“You’re with us now. Deep breaths,” the woman said.
I focused on her voice, clinging to her command to breathe.
My master couldn’t be dead. It was impossible. I refused to believe it.
Emptiness squeezed my heart. Despite my attempts to calm myself, my next breath came out as a choked sob.
‘Control.’ My master’s rich voice echoed in my memory. I wrapped it around myself like armor. ‘There’s nothing more important. Never lose control.’
“Good, keep breathing,” the woman murmured, rubbing my back.
Someone loosely tucked me into a bed which came up to the woman’s hip. Kind brown irises, rimmed in bright orange magic, watched me. Although I knew orange rims existed, I’d never seen anything other than my master’s gem-red in person.
Her hand rubbing my back suddenly felt wrong. I pulled away and looked down so I couldn’t see her too kind eyes. The glint of a silver cat pinned to her breast caught my attention. I’d watched stray cats from my window my entire life. Their antics always made me smile.
The random thought calmed me before a swell of grief took over my existence. All of that was gone. Salty tears dripped down my face as memories tried to assault me, but I didn’t let them this time.
‘Control.’
I remembered to breathe, and my tears slowed, as did the incessant beeping from the machine behind me.
Absently, I pressed against my two injuries. I couldn’t even feel them now—the paper-thin gown covering me crinkled as I inspected my body. I’d always been underweight, too thin for my frame, but now, I bordered on emaciated.
The metal of the titanium and copper socket, just bigger than a USB drive, slightly protruding from my boney hip, felt cool compared to the rest of my skin. I paused, brushing my fingers across the top of it again. I didn’t feel the little balls on either side of my industrial piercing. My heart beat faster. If that was missing, what if…no, I couldn’t even think of it.
“Careful of your IV,” the woman said, drawing my attention. “I know, it’s mundane, but our magic and funds are limited. Technology can do just as much with fewer resources.”
I looked at her and blinked, not understanding her defensive tone. Never having been outside of my apartment before, I didn’t know what was mundane and what wasn’t. When I cut my finger, my master put a bandage on it. My master always took care of me.
“I’m Norah.” She patted her chest. “You’re at the Charbon Institute. You’ve been unconscious for three days.”
She gestured to my hip and shoulder. “We’ve magically fixed the gunshot wounds and the damage done to your lungs from the smoke. It shouldn’t have taken three days.” She gestured around her. “But, like I said, we’re underfunded and underpowered. Obviously, healing takes a lot of magic, so it was the best we could do.”
I knew that. Or at least I knew it took a lot out of my master to charge a healing potion. I couldn’t take my eyes off the woman’s face. Her thick lips looked nothing like my master’s thin, turned-down mouth. She was the first person I’d talked to in person besides him.
He’d kept me isolated because I was special. I was his and his alone. No one else should even see me.
And now this woman was talking to me.
I trembled.
My master’s deathly still body appeared in my vision. Even squeezing my eyes shut, I couldn’t escape the memory of the life leaving him.
It couldn’t be true.
I pressed my hand against my chest. Something was horribly wrong. My breaths came out in short gasps, and the hole in my heart throbbed.
Pulling my heels toward me, I curled into my favorite meditative pose. I closed my eyes and pushed Norah from my view. My breaths came out in measured beats. He wasn’t gone. This strange place was trying to trick me. I needed to stay strong, and he would come for me.
‘The world outside wants to hurt you. They will take you and try to confuse you. Only I love you. Only I know how to take care of you. I am your world. You will die without me.’ My master’s warning filled my mind, and I took heart in it.
‘Control.’
My next breath released slowly. Calmness that couldn’t possibly exist in reality wrapped me in a blanket of comfort, blocking out the chaotic input of life as I slipped into my mage-trance. I reveled in how easily it came, but once my storm of emotions stilled, so did my heart. My master’s orders didn’t come. I existed in the state to serve. Without him, I was purposeless.
“Do you want to tell me your name?” Norah’s question pulled me back into reality.
My name didn’t matter. Only how I could serve.
“Where’s my master? Where’s Damon?” I hated the tremor in my voice.
I opened my eyes as Norah’s caring face fell. She shook her head.
Despite my efforts to bury the truth, the memory of his bleeding body flashed in front of me.
Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I buried myself back under the flimsy blanket. My gut wrenched, and fog filled my head, shrouding my thoughts. I felt like I was watching myself: a life I had no stake in.
I didn’t die with him.
Sudden panic made my heart race. I could still be with him. I cast about, suddenly desperate for something I could use to kill myself. But the small space was empty of sharp objects and tools of self-destruction.
Even if I got my hands on something, I couldn’t do it.
Guilt replaced my panic. I wanted to live.
I barely reacted when the curtains surrounding my bed burst open, revealing a short, stocky man in a brown suit. He quickly shut the layers of blue behind him, keeping my world small.
He turned to Norah. “I was to be made aware the moment she regained consciousness, and yet I find you already here, gabbing.” The man’s voice was harsh, almost guttural. His sharp hand motions added weight to his words.
I scrubbed my cheeks before pressing my palms together.
The man barely came up to Norah’s chest yet still managed to look down his nose at the world around him. A neatly trimmed beard and mustache matched the thick salt and pepper crew cut covering his head. Frameless glasses perched on his nose, magnifying the vivid pastel purple that rimmed his irises. He looked nothing like my master.
Norah bristled. “She’s not been awake long. I was only trying to make her feel more at ease.”
“Your efforts are not necessary.” His sharp gaze trained on me. “Girl, do you need help dressing?”
I froze. He seemed to look through my thin gown. I pulled the blankets farther over me.
“Advisor Crowe, she’s still in shock!” Norah said angrily, stepping between us. The knots in my stomach slightly eased. “She’s not been cleared to leave the medical wing.”
The man pulled a tablet out from under his arm. I glimpsed my master’s name neatly typed across the top before it moved out of my view. He handed it to Norah, and the moment she took it, he stepped to the side and focused on me once more.
“Aphrodite, shall I help you dress, or can you manage yourself?” he asked.
I flinched at the sound of my name coming out of another man’s lips and ducked my head.
He gestured sharply to a pile of clothing I hadn’t noticed on a metal side table.
I blinked, the fog in my mind disconnecting the garments from an action.
“Aphrodite,” the man snapped.
He jabbed his hand again.
The gears in my head ground slowly. I needed to put the clothing on.
On autopilot, I slipped off the bed. The discomfort from pulling out the IV seemed to be happening to someone else. Bright red blood welled up and dripped down my forearm as one sustained tone dominated my hearing.
Norah looked up from the tablet and blanched. She ran to the machine and turned it off. “I’m surprised pulling out the IV didn’t make you scream. It must have been painful. At least put pressure on it until I can stop the bleeding.”
I winced as I did as she asked.
The Nurse rummaged around in a drawer. “Mitch, let me stop the bleeding before you take her.”
I turned my attention to Advisor Crowe, disturbed to find his head level with my own. He nodded, and his pleased smile made my world tilt with unease.
I studied the patterns on the tiled floor, holding out my arm for Norah.
‘Your will is my will,’ Damon’s voice echoed in my mind. ‘Your body, your very thoughts, echo only my needs. Say it every night before you go to bed, every morning when you wake up. This is the mantra you live by. It will make you happy because it will make me happy.’
I closed my eyes, silently repeating my truth, desperate to draw strength from it. But Damon still hadn’t appeared. My heart ached, already aware of something I wasn’t willing to accept.
I flinched when Norah picked up my arm. The minor runes she drew over my puncture wound glowed brightly with the woman’s orange magic and sent slight tingles of lust down my arm. I bit my bottom lip at the unexpected sensation. I’d never read about lust being a side effect of healing, but I’d also never been magically fixed before by a rune or a potion. The curiosity I’d long buried crept through the fog. Before it could go far, numbing loss swallowed it.
“We’ll leave you to get dressed, sweetie.” Norah squeezed my arm.
With less drama this time, the curtain slid back and forth as they exited.
It took me a moment to remember how my arms and legs worked. Clinging to the bed for support, I approached my familiar clothing. The smell of smoke and the slightly metallic tang of blood still clung to it, thrusting me back into my last memory of my master. My hands hovered above the pile, and despair threatened to cut through the numbness.
I hadn’t realized I’d started panting until Norah’s voice came through the curtain. “Sweetie, I’m coming in. Just take deep breaths.”
The nurse quickly moved to my side. “I’ll get it for you. Can you use magic?”
I shook my head. My magic existed for my master. I had no access to it.
‘You’re a vessel to be used by me and me alone. Your magic is useless to you, uncontrollable. Like you, it belongs to me.’
“Do you know where you are?” Norah’s hands fluttered like she wanted to touch me. “The Charbon Institute’s a school for magical kids. Well, and young adults, like you, who need a second chance.” She smiled at me and nodded. “We want you to live an honest life, contributing to society. I don’t know specifically why you’re here, but you’re magical—even if you’ve not learned to control it yet.”
My hands trembled, still not touching my outfit. I laced my fingers together and pulled them into my stomach, drifting in the haze of numbness surrounding me.
Norah picked up the pile of clothing with one hand. “You’re in Alaska.”
I just stood there. Alaska. I’d never even heard of it.
The rims around her irises briefly glowed a brighter orange, and she drew a rune with her index finger. Her spell seeped into my clothing, erasing the smells and bloodstains.
The sound of someone kicking metal on the other side of the curtain reminded me I had a task to complete.
“I already know about your illegal socket. You don’t need to hide from me,” Norah said quietly. “Experimental tech should never have been forced on you. But it’s grafted into your very bones and intertwined with both your magic and your nervous system, I’m sorry. It can’t be taken out.”
I blinked. I’d no idea my socket was illegal or experimental. I’d had the rose-shaped bit of copper and silver since I was a little girl; I didn’t even remember getting it.
Metal clunked again and spurred me into action. I pulled the paper-thin garment off my body.
I dreaded looking where my piercing should be, but I forced my eyes down. Smooth, unblemished skin stretched across my hip bone. Completely void of coloring and scars. My fingers trembled. I traced the space, now missing the tattoo my master had grafted onto my skin with his magic.
Only death could take that away.
Blood rushed to my ears.
Even with my eyes open, all I could see was Damon. His red-rimmed gaze took on an accusatory glare as the life left his eyes and his body went limp across our work table—the table he’d used to change my diapers. The same table I’d mixed my first potion on. The very same table he’d pinned me against as he brought me into the world of adult pleasures.
This final proof of his death destroyed my remaining denial.
I bit my lip to keep from crying out. My grip on the bed was the only thing keeping me standing. The ache in my chest burned. I’d failed him, and in failing him, I’d doomed myself.
“We can not let her leave dressed in this!” The sound of Norah’s voice gave me something to cling to, jerking me out of my memories.
I opened my eyes and focused on the nurse. Her frown deepened as she eyed each piece of my clothing.
One breath in, hold and release. Once more. I couldn’t fall apart. Not here, not in front of others.
‘Never let your emotions control you. Magic needs control. I need control. Your tears help no one.’
Although Norah didn’t speak, judgment filled her eyes. Judgment Damon had spent countless hours warning me about and protecting me from. Judgment that rooted itself in the Magical Authorities and their rules. I’d spent my life hiding from the MA. Damon said if they found me, it would be the end. And now I stood here, alone.
I didn’t know if I wanted to cry or scream.
“She has a uniform waiting in her dorm room.” Advisor Crowe’s voice came through the curtain. “If she’s not out here and dressed in the next two minutes. I’ll come in there and do it myself.”
The thought disgusted me, and I snatched my clothing out of Norah’s hands. With the nurse’s cleaning spell completed, even the smell of Damon was gone from the cotton and leather material.
Another unwanted tear slid down my cheek, followed by a hint of inappropriate joy before my mental haze muted everything once more.
The complicated dressing process soothed me, a repetitive motion which felt normal despite my surroundings. Fishnet stockings rolled up my legs. A small hole from the bullet marred the left thigh. My small black and white pleated mini skirt barely covered my butt. The clunky silver hardware of my steel-boned medieval corset clicked into place, low enough my shoulder wound hadn’t touched the material. My small breasts lifted into Damon’s favorite position.
‘You’ve blossomed into something extraordinary, my Aphrodite.’ Damon’s voice had been thick and low with something I’d soon learned about: lust. I feared him the first time his touches changed from fatherly to something more. I hadn’t wanted any of them. But I trusted him. His magic sliding into me had lit a fire I hadn’t known existed. Pleasure had bowed my body with his attention and soothed the well of power simmering under my skin. I craved the thoughtless euphoria my release gave me, my escape from everything.
‘Your will is my will. Your body, your very thoughts, echo only my needs. If I’m happy, you’re happy.’ The fog blanketing my emotions seemed to double with the memory of his voice.
Numbly, I finished dressing.
“My jewelry?” Steeped in blood magic, my earring and piercing were my only real possessions.
“The Magical Authorities have your things.” Norah smiled as if the words would reassure me, but they didn’t. “Everything that survived the fire will be returned to you. Let the MA finish their investigation. Their funding runs this Institute. They know where to find you.”
A shiver ran up my spine. Once again, I pictured the MA agents who had destroyed my world.
‘Their minds are closed; their rules tied to societal norms that will take away our very lives.’
Oddly calm, despite my master’s warning, I studied the gray and white patterning on the shiny floor. My fur-lined brown leather slippers caught my eye. Ignoring the blood still staining the toes, I slid my feet into them. “My master’s dead, and I’m in an MA prison camp?”
“The Charbon Institute,” Norah corrected. “It’s a school, but essentially, yes.”
A bead of sweat trickled down my neck under my thick hair. I attempted to manage the wavy locks and grimaced at their tangled oily texture.
For a moment, I just stood, waiting for Damon to tell me what to do. But he didn’t. He’d never tell me what to do again.
I paused. Damon liked my hair loose, but the heat of it on my neck always made me uncomfortable. “Ah, do you have a hair tie?”
The look on Norah’s face was unreadable as she pulled a colorful band out of her hair and handed it to me. I flushed, embarrassed I’d asked. Now this stranger was going to have to go without. I made a mental note to be more careful with my questions.
With a flourish, Advisor Crowe appeared through the curtain once again. Not taking my eyes from him, I efficiently braided my hair. The older man scanned the display of exposed flesh my master’s outfit left bare. His gaze lingered on my breasts, and heat burned behind his glasses.
Having dressed in very little all my life, I wasn’t used to the twist of unease from his attention. He wasn’t my master. I had no master.
A lump formed in my throat. I forced it down, not understanding the rush of emotions trying to break through the haze surrounding my thoughts. “It’s time to begin your new life.” Advisor Crowe’s gaze snapped away from my chest. “Welcome to the Charbon Institute.”
End of chapter one.
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