Read Witch & Wizard 04 - The Kiss Online
Authors: James Patterson
He laughed harshly as the dogs licked at his face, their slobbery tongues washing over his tears of blood.
“Of course you have a taste for blood,” he told them. “You’re part of me.”
I’M HOLDING MY toothbrush like a microphone, rocking out to some superhappy, loud music and feeling like I’m walking on air. I look up in the mirror and see that, actually, I
am
levitating a little��that’s how fluttery I’m still feeling.
Then the door to my apartment bangs open on its hinges, and my feet slam to the floor. Could it be
him
? My hair’s frizzed out and my ratty pajamas aren’t exactly flattering, but I still can’t help feeling a little pang of hope as I peek over my shoulder with wide eyes….
But it’s only my brother.
“You really know how to make an entrance,” I say through a mouthful of toothpaste. I spit in the sink and resume hip shaking in my pajamas, trying to remember exactly how it felt with Heath on the dance floor.
Whit’s still all worked up from earlier. “Wisty, listen, I really don’t trust this guy,” he starts in immediately. “Byron and I did some digging, and I need you to listen to me this time.”
I roll my eyes. “You guys just don’t know him,” I say, walking past him to close the front door, since he didn’t bother to. “Heath’s actually a total gentleman. Tonight was the best night of my life, despite you and Byron trying to ruin it. There was magic in everything—the dancing, the flower, the walk home….”
I sigh, flopping backward onto the couch, remembering the suddenness of the kiss, the
wanting
burning through every part of me.
“Wisty, forget about the stupid kiss. I’m trying to warn you—”
Wait, did I say that out loud?
No, I didn’t even mention the kiss.
Did Whit’s power turn telepathic or…
I sit up, understanding finally breaking through my blissed-out state.
“Wait.” I narrow my eyes at my brother. “You were
spying
on me?”
“I was protecting you!” Whit’s eyes fly open defensively. He walks over and clicks off the loud, happy music, and the sudden silence seems to press in on me from everywhere. “When Byron and I saw Heath leaving your apartment, we trailed him. And it’s a good thing we did, because—”
“
Byron
was with you?” I gape.
“He was worried about you, too!” Whit says angrily, but he’s looking a little guilty now. “Actually, Byron wanted to come back here with me. You should be grateful I sent him home.” His eyes soften, but I’m still feeling full of sharp edges.
“Gr-
grateful
?” I stutter, my eyes bugging with disbelief. “You
followed me
out of the club with my date,
watched us
kissing, and then
barged into
my apartment, shouting accusations….” I can feel my color rising with my voice. “And I should be
grateful
?!”
“He’s a wizard, Wist. The messenger said—
oof!
” Whit glares after the pillow I throw clocks him in the head.
“I know he’s a wizard!” I cut in, exasperated. “He
told
me, because that’s the kind of relationship we have: an honest one.”
“We have no idea who Heath could be involved with—Bloom, the Mountain King… even Pearce.”
At the mention of The One’s creepy protégé, I totally lose it.
“Pearce is
dead
!” I explode. “Just like The One Who Is The One. Can’t you just let me be happy for once? I told you—I can take care of myself!”
Whit looks at me coolly. “So you said. Is that why you pulled that stunt in the chamber earlier, without even running it by me?”
“Oh, like you’ve been explaining your little Mountain King paranoia to me?” I fire back. “And since when do I need your permission to use my magic?”
“When you’re speaking to the Council on behalf of all magicians and playing stupid pranks! Do you ever think about how your short temper affects anyone else? No—you only think of
you
. Yeah, you really seem to be doing a great job of taking care of yourself, Wisty.”
I blink at him, fighting back tears. That might be the meanest thing my brother has ever said to me.
“Well, maybe if you had my back instead of shaking your head at me like Bloom and the rest of those cowards, I’d actually
trust you
enough to talk to you about Heath.”
Whit gapes at me, the hurt plain on his face. The one thing we’ve always had between us was ultimate trust, but it’s not my fault he broke it.
“You know what? I don’t care about your personal issues anyway. Date who you want. Just don’t cry to me when it blows up in your face.”
“Fine!” I shout, throwing another pillow. “Get out of my apartment!”
But Whit’s already slamming the door.
I AWOKE THIS MORNING wanting to fix things with Wisty. Apparently she didn’t feel the same way, though. By the time I spot her strolling across the square, very obviously ignoring me trying to catch up to her, I’m so angry I wish I had another door to slam in her face.
“We’re late again,” I snap in greeting when I finally reach her side. “Thank you, as usual.”
“It’s not my fault you’re late,” she says coldly, clicking along in her heels.
Since when does my sister wear heels?
“I waited for you for half an hour!”
Since that first day, we’ve met with the Resistance at The Tube every morning before the Council meeting and walked over to the chamber together. This morning, Sasha and I went over updates from the City Watch, but Wisty was a no-show.
Wisty shrugs. “I was meeting Heath for breakfast,” she says sweetly.
She just had to throw that in my face, didn’t she?
That explains the heels.
“Do me a favor, Wist. Don’t say that name to me.”
“Real mature, big brother.” Wisty rolls her eyes, starting up the marble steps to the chamber. “No problem. We don’t have to talk at all.”
“And
that’s
mature?”
I stop at the foot of the steps and watch my sister walk away from me—an image that’s starting to feel familiar. I can’t believe this morning I thought we could just move on. The rift between us isn’t a crack; it’s a canyon.
But something else is going on at the Capitol.
I was so caught up in bickering with my sister, I somehow missed the huge crowd gathered at the top, near the doorway. There are cameras and microphones set up overhead. Reporters vie for spots near the front. And in the center of all of them is Bloom, the flash of a snapshot illuminating his stern, pudgy face.
He’s holding some kind of press conference.
It makes sense. The water supply is dangerously low, and with no fresh rations coming from the Mountain, Sasha said the Watch is overwhelmed with crime in the streets. The Council needs to issue a statement to calm the people before panic and fear build to a fever pitch.
I just wish Bloom wasn’t the one doing the talking.
I’VE LOST MY SISTER in the crowd, and I can barely see the podium, let alone claw my way up there to make a statement.
I look for an opening in the mob of people, trying to figure out what’s being said, but Bloom’s gesturing someone else to the mic. “We will continue to field questions in one moment, but first, Dr. Wells, if you please.”
The man looks like a worm—he’s bald, with a narrow pink face and lips that seem to blend into it. He looks nervous behind his glasses as he addresses the press.
“Magic is an unstable condition, as it manipulates our perception of reality,” Dr. Wells the Worm begins, his pink lips pressed too close to the mic. “All the magic has seeped into our world through wormholes in the universe. Some of you may remember them being referred to as portals. Whatever they may be called, they are akin to an open wound that allows damaging foreign organisms to enter the healthily functioning ecosystem of a human body, and wreak havoc upon it.”
He pulls out a series of charts and diagrams, awkwardly holding them up and trying to explain the physics of supernatural forces to an impatient crowd. Even
I
can’t follow the terms he’s using, and I
am
a supernatural force.
“Put simply,” he says, clearly noticing the bewildered looks on the faces of onlookers, “magic is what happens when the laws of nature in our world are disrupted by the laws of nature from another world. The two must not intermingle. Chaos results… as we have clearly seen illustrated in recent dark days.”
Finally, when Bloom signals to wrap up, the Worm adjusts his glasses and looks nervously at the cameras with huge, watery eyes and says, “In summation, these holes that the magicians call
portals
must be permanently closed.”
“
What?!
” I gasp. I think of all the times we needed those portals in the past: to cover ground, or escape The One’s grasp. To see Celia in Shadowland, and to get our parents safely out. They’ve been crucial to our survival.
I try to push forward to make my voice heard, but a hundred other people are shouting questions at the podium.
“How does this relate to the water shortage?” a reporter asks.
“Or the missing children?” another shouts.
Bloom is reclaiming the podium. “We all know the dangers of magic running rampant in the City,” he booms over the crowd’s roar. “Have you forgotten The One Who Is The One?”
The mention of that name still strikes fear in the hearts of every citizen, and even the most eager journalists fall silent.
I spot movement near the stage, though, and for once I’m grateful for my sister’s love of the spotlight as she squeezes herself under the Worm’s arm, pressing into the microphone.
“The One also tried to close the portals!” her voice echoes.
The Council may have turned on her, but these citizens haven’t forgotten that Wisty once saved them. All eyes and a hundred cameras look from their old hero to the man who claims to be their protector.
“His mistake was not closing them all, according to our new discovery,” Bloom says as
The Book of Truths
is wheeled onto the platform. The cheap parlor trick is getting old, but the cameras love it, and everyone zooms in on
The Book
, now wrapped in chains and displayed behind glass.
“
Oh, come on!
” I shout. “Don’t you see what he’s doing?” But my voice doesn’t carry in the open air, and Bloom clears his throat into the microphone.
“
The Book of Truths
refers to the hostile Mountain King as the
Wizard
King,” he reveals. “He rules with
black magic
.”
Like The One.
My mouth goes dry, and the words die on my lips. I knew it, I realize. Though Celia never said it in the dream, though my vision was a jumble of images, though we couldn’t trace the kidnappings, I
knew
. That’s why my panic was so irrational, and why I couldn’t tell Wisty—I didn’t want to admit it to myself.
We’re dealing with a darker power, and we don’t know anything about it.
“Closing the portals will protect us from his magic as we prepare for the trying days ahead,” Bloom continues, looking authoritatively into the cameras and into the fearful hearts of the people watching from home. “This Wizard King has taken our water from us, so the Council has declared war!”
I stare up at Bloom in shock and swallow hard. It’s time to find my voice.
“DOES ANYONE IN this City remember how hard we worked for peace?” my brother asks, his voice cracking with emotion. Whit hates speaking in public, much less on television, but he does have a gift for it, and right now he���s hovering above the crowd, desperate to be heard.
“Remember how the Council members
earned
their spots, standing up for your rights? And making our streets safe?” Whit reaches down for my hand.
“Together,” I shout, levitating up to join him. “With
magic
.” A hundred flash bulbs go off to capture us floating together. We’re just a few feet up—we don’t want to scare them—but now we’ve got their attention. And Bloom’s.
“I know we desperately need water, and I know many of you are afraid,” Whit says. “But war is not the answer. War is more starvation, more innocent lives lost, and more ash-covered skies.”
“But our streets aren’t safe, even with the Watch,” a reporter in a bright pink pantsuit protests, and others mutter in agreement. “How do you plan to protect us?” She points her microphone up at us.
“We have to at least
try
to negotiate for peace, and if I have to, I’ll…” Whit swallows, looking out across the crowd. “I’ll lead a mission up the Mountain to meet with this so-called King myself.”
Our eyes burn into Bloom now. Witch and wizard, a united front.
Bloom clears his throat with a deafening rattle into the microphone. “Magicians will always look out for their fellow magic makers.” Bloom leans forward, and his gray toupee shifts. “Perhaps the Allgoods have formed an alliance with the Wizard King. This Council has seen them defy law and use magic with force.”
I want to destroy him in that moment, just like I destroyed The One, but I have to remind myself that the cameras are rolling.
Bloom is well aware. He doesn’t look at us, but right at the camera when he says gravely, “We suspect magicians may actually be responsible for kidnapping the City’s children and smuggling them up the Mountain.”
“That’s not true!” I protest, but my voice is drowned out by the aggressive crowd. They need a cause to unite around, a common enemy to rally against.
And this time,
we’re
the enemy.
I feel arms tugging at my ankles.
We should’ve gone higher
, I think, but it’s too late. People are pressing in from all sides, grabbing at us, and I start to freak.