The Vaga Page 2

  He waits for my silent acknowledgement before he pulls his hand back and looks off across the courtyard, taking in the faces of those milling about with newfound suspicion.

  Magi growls low in her throat.

  ‘What is it, girl?’ I ask.

  ‘I think you have company,’ Uncle Jo says, moving his hands subtly to the back of his pants.

  Across the courtyard Blake comes walking towards us. His tanned skin glistens in the midday sun, the light bouncing off his muscular legs. His smile widens as I make eye contact.

  Oh crap!

  ‘Will you put that away,’ I hiss, knowing Uncle Jo has his hand firmly wrapped around the hilt of his dagger.

  He gives me a tight-lipped stare before slowly sheathing it.

  Magi gets up on all fours and positions herself in front of me.

  Exasperated I say, ‘Oh for the love of Pete, will you two stop. He isn’t here to hurt me.’ I stand up as he nears.

  ‘Is that his name? Pete?’ Uncle Jo asks, watching Blake’s every step with wariness.

  ‘What?! No…ugh, please just be normal alright? For me, just once, can we all just not act like…like...’

  ‘Hi, Ellie.’ The way my name rolls off his velvety voice causes me to flush.

  ‘Hi, Blake. How’s training going?’ I manage to ask, my hands automatically going into my pockets to hide the fact that they’ve just broken out in a nervous sweat.

  He smiles. ‘Well, it’s going. Not sure I’m as focused as I should be.’ His eyes lower to my lips.

  Oh geez!

  Magi takes a step towards him. Telepathy with a dog has its pitfalls, especially when the opposite sex is involved.

  ‘She still doesn’t like me, hey?’ he says, making sure to keep just enough distance to keep Magi happy.

  ‘She’s just…protective is all.’ I pat Magi’s head and silently tell her to back off.

  Uncle Jo clears his throat. I don’t miss the cue.

  ‘Oh, sorry. Blake, this is my uncle, Jo Olsen.’

  Blake holds out his hand. ‘Nice to meet you, sir.’ There is an awkward pause before Uncle Jo grabs his hand.

  They are well matched in size, but I see Blake’s arm falter slightly under the pressure of my uncle’s strong grip. The corner of Uncle Jo’s mouth curls upwards.

  I roll my eyes. ‘So, are you guys getting ready for the game on Saturday?’

  Blake’s brown eyes twinkle. ‘Are you coming?’ he asks a little too enthusiastically.

  I glance quickly at Uncle Jo, noticing that his temples are pulsating. ‘Uh, maybe. I’m not sure what we’re doing yet. Sounds like it should be a good game though.’

  ‘Yeah, we need the win to make it to the finals, so it should be a close game.’ He pauses, his eyes roaming over my face with interest. ‘Anyway, I didn’t want to interrupt you and your uncle over here. Just wanted to say hi, that’s all.’

  ‘Oh, well that’s okay. Um…I might see you at the game then.’

  He lowers his gaze and nods his head, knowing that I probably won’t be there, as I never turn up to these things. My lifetime commitment of staying under the radar has become the norm among any and all social situations.

  ‘That would be great.’ He gives me a hopeful look before saying, ‘Nice to meet you, Mr. Olsen.’

  ‘You too, Blake,’ Uncle Jo replies, lowering his voice just enough to come across as the alpha male.

  I cringe at my uncle’s behaviour.

  ‘Bye, Ellie,’ Blake says quietly as he brushes past me, flashing me another sexy smile.

  My stomach does a flip. ‘Bye,’ I say, my voice a little shaky. What is wrong with me? Get it together.

  When Blake is out of sight Uncle Jo folds his arms in my direction. ‘What was that?’

  ‘What?’ I answer defensively.

  ‘Oh, you mean the sexy guy who’s hot for Ellie?’ Phoebe squawks so loud the entire cafe can hear her.

  Where the bloody hell did she come from? ‘Shh! Geez, Phoebs.’ I want to crawl into a hole. She has no shame.

  I sit down quickly and hide my face behind my hand.

  She laughs as she sits down next to me. ‘What? Your uncle should know you’re a hot ticket around here.’

  Uncle Jo moves forward in his seat. His face turning a nice shade of purple. ‘She’s a what?’

  Phoebe holds her hands up and laughs again. ‘Settle, Mr. O. I’m only joking. She doesn’t even date, you know that.’ She takes a bite out of my barely eaten sandwich, unaware of the reaction her words have sparked. ‘So what’s going on?’ she mumbles through a mouthful of food.

  Uncle Jo and I share an amused look. Phoebe has no idea how completely charming and bluntly candid she is. I’d find it hard pressed to find anyone who didn’t like her.

  ‘Not much,’ I reply.

  ‘Didn’t look like that from here. Blake asking you out again?’ she says, flitting her eyes towards Uncle Jo.

  I swear she riles him up on purpose.

  He pretends to ignore her and picks up the newspaper, and she smiles with satisfaction.

  ‘No, he was just seeing whether we were going to the game, that’s all.’ I shrug.

  Her Diet Coke fizzes open. ‘So he was asking you then. When will that boy give it up?’ She takes a sip and puts the lid back on.

  ‘Does he keep bothering you?’ Uncle Jo’s voice sounds out from behind the newspaper.

  Phoebe stifles a smile and I poke my tongue at her.

  ‘No, not really,’ I tell him. ‘Anyway, I thought you said I should date?’

  He folds the edge of the newspaper down so that one eye is peering at me. ‘That was before I knew about Pete.’

  ‘Pete? Who’s Pete?’ Phoebe asks.

  I groan. ‘It’s not Pete, it’s Blake.’

  Phoebe picks up the sandwich again. ‘But your uncle just said Pete.’

  ‘I know, but I said for the love of Pete and he thought…’ I rub my temples. ‘Never mind.’

  Uncle Jo’s eyes twinkle with amusement and he lets the newspaper flip back up.

  Magi sends me an image of our house, interrupting the taunting conversation going on. ‘Okay, Mags. See you in a bit.’

  I watch her walk towards the edge of campus before she disappears past the pines and into the brush, where on the other side sits our temporary home—a quaint yellow caretaker’s cottage that looks like it’s been here since the dawn of man.

  When I decided to come to college, a lot of things changed. Not only did I have to make some big changes, but my family rallied around and made decisions that affected their lives as well. One of those being that Uncle Jo wasn’t letting me go to college alone. With his long history of working in Special Forces, particularly in intelligence, he is now the college IT support guru. A handy position to have when your niece is a powerful witch, and you can make her name untraceable on the college database.

  It also meant that we had to meet with the college dean, Eric Meyer, and convince him to pull a few strings in the dog department—the policy being that pets are only allowed on campus if there is a medical reason for doing so. It was one of the few times I have ever used a persuasion spell on somebody.

  ‘She’s been disappearing a lot lately,’ Phoebe says.

  Uncle Jo flops the newspaper edge down again. ‘She has?’

  I shrug. ‘She’s allowed to have time to herself.’

  He frowns, folding the paper into a neat rectangle. ‘Is there something wrong with her?’

  ‘No. Not that I know of. Maybe she just needs some space that’s all.’ I look towards the brush. ‘You can’t blame her for that,’ I mumble, thinking that I’m twenty years old, in college, and still living with my uncle. Sometimes I wish I could just take off and have time to myself too.

  My thoughts must be blatantly obvious, because Uncle Jo stares at me for a moment before looking at his watch and standing up. ‘Well, I better get back to it. See you ladies in a bit.’ He begins to walk off and then turns back briefly. ‘
Oh, and that situation we were talking about earlier is something I want to come back to.’

  I throw him a curt nod and my shoulders slump as I watch him walk off. I shouldn’t have made my desire for more space so obvious.

  Phoebe winces. ‘Ouch! I think you hurt his feelings, E.’

  I put my hands over my eyes and groan. ‘I know. It’s just…’

  She takes another sip of her drink before asking, ‘What is it?’

  Just tell her and get it over with.

  ‘I saw Julian today,’ I blurt out.

  She spits the Diet Coke all over the table. ‘What?! Where? Are you sure it was him?’ she all but yells.

  I look around, making sure that no one is watching us too closely. ‘Phoebs, calm down.’

  ‘Calm down!? Do you remember what he did to me? What he tried to do to you?’ She automatically reaches up to her face and traces her finger down the spot on her cheek where the scar has disappeared, but where the memory of that night remains.

  Of course I remember what he did. I will never be able to forget. Julian is the man who was sent to kill me four years ago, and he is the reason Phoebe still bears the emotional scar. In an attempt to lure me out into the open he kidnapped Phoebe, injuring her in the process. It’s my fault that she was hurt that day, and I carry the burden of it like a blemish on my soul.

  ‘I know, okay. I know what he did, or what he tried to do, I know!’ I say, frustration fueling my emotions.

  She balks at my words. ‘Then why are you angry at me and not him?’

  Crossing my arms defensively I shake my head. ‘I’m not angry at you, I just…’

  ‘What?’ she pushes.

  ‘I’m just sick of everyone telling me what to do, or what I should or shouldn’t feel, alright. I’m tired of it.’ I look towards the distant woodland, feeling a sudden urge to get up and run.

  We are silent for a moment. I can’t blame Phoebe for feeling those emotions. She doesn’t know about my dreams, or how the last few years have affected me in more ways than one. I’m not sure she would understand my feelings towards Julian. I’m not sure I’m ready to reveal those secrets just yet.

  ‘I’m sorry, Phoebs. Seeing him just sort of shocked me, that’s all.’

  She turns towards me quickly, ignoring my apology, lost in her own thoughts. ‘What does him being here mean? Are you in danger again? Is he going to try and hurt you?’ The colours of her aura surge with concern, anger, and fear all thrown into one.

  Shaking my head I say, ‘I don’t know. You’ve seen the letter, Phoebs. It doesn’t seem like he would be here if he wasn’t at least trying to warn me. I suppose we’ll have to wait and find out.’

  The bell tower strikes one o’clock, sounding out its vibrant call across the campus. Phoebe jumps at the sound. ‘Holy crap! Damn that stupid clock tower!’

  I reach over to grab her hand that is searing its way into the table top. ‘It’s going to be okay.’

  Her lip trembles as she squeezes my hand. ‘We need to be ready.’

  ‘We?’ I ask curiously.

  She looks me squarely in the eye, hardening her jaw. ‘You need to train me.’ She pulls her hand back and crosses her arms, her face deadpan serious.

  A short, sharp laugh escapes my lips. ‘What?’

  ‘You heard me. You need to train me.’

  ‘You know I can’t teach you magic, Phoebs.’

  ‘I know that numb nuts. I want you to train me physically. I want to do what you do.’

  I shake my head. ‘I’ve been training for years. I can’t teach you everything in such a short time. That would be impossible.’

  She grits her teeth in frustration. ‘I’m not saying I am going to be this…warrior, okay. I just need to know how to defend myself.’

  ‘Phoebs, this isn’t a game. You could get hurt and…I couldn’t deal with that. I’m sorry.’ I cast my eyes downwards, knowing my words will hurt her.

  A few seconds pass with neither one of us moving before she says, ‘Bullcrap.’

  My head whips up in surprise. The luminescent brown of her irises are shining brightly, clear and focused in their meaning. She leans forward, never wavering in her gaze. ‘You will train me, Cole, or else I will go straight to your uncle, or Ama, or whoever else will listen and make them force you to train me.’

  My eyes widen. She is dead serious about this. Phoebe’s not usually serious about much, especially when it comes to exercise or any type of movement that involves her body performing unnatural twists and turns. The threatening look on her face causes me to force back a smile.

  I cross my arms ever so slowly. ‘Fine. But if we train then I don’t want to hear any whining or tantrums or anything else that will make me want to punch you. Deal?’

  She flashes me a smug look. ‘Deal.’ She holds out her hand and I grab it firmly.

  This is going to be fun.

  Chapter 3

  ‘Argh, dammit! That flippin hurt!’ Phoebe yells, rubbing her butt.

  I take a few steps back. ‘I told you to keep your guard up.’

  ‘I told you to keep your guard up,’ she mimics me childishly from the mat.

  Laughing, I hold out my hand. She flashes me a scowl before taking it and I help lift her to her feet.

  ‘Okay, let’s try again. Remember, plant your feet firmly, keep your eyes focused on your opponent, and make sure your body is flexible but firm.’ I move my body into fighting position.

  Uncle Jo has trained me over the last few years to be a pretty good fighter. I’ve learnt the art of boxing, mixed martial arts, and Russian Systema. I’m not exactly Bruce Lee, but I can hold my own.

  Phoebe positions her feet and I see her muscles contract, hardening her curvy frame.

  ‘Good. Now remember to breathe, focus on my body and counter attack my moves.’

  I strike out with my left arm and she blocks it with her right. I then kick out with my right leg and she blocks that too.

  ‘Good. Okay, let’s pick up the pace a bit.’

  ‘Bring it on, Cole,’ she quips.

  I position myself again.

  For the next two hours we practise. Phoebe is quick to pick up the defensive strategies I’ve taught her, but her movements are still a bit slow and awkward.

  Sweat trickles down her face as she holds up her gloved fist. ‘Okay, I think I’m done,’ she pants heavily.

  I move to unstrap her gloves. ‘I’m impressed, Phoebs, really. You put in a great effort today.’

  ‘I know,’ she says wincing, dramatically displaying her discomfort at actually having to exercise.

  ‘No wonder you’re a drama major.’

  She flashes me a sassy look. ‘You sound jealous, E. I hope my moves today didn’t intimidate you at all?’ I smile as I pull her glove off. ‘Anyway, with some more training I think I’ll be ready for a real fight.’

  I flash her a stern look. ‘Um, no you won’t.’

  ‘What do you mean, I won’t?’

  I yank the last glove off roughly. ‘This isn’t a game, Phoebs.’

  ‘I know that, but the last week of training has made me feel…powerful,’ she says, rubbing her sweaty hands together.

  ‘That’s the adrenaline. We all feel that, but that doesn’t mean you go out looking for a fight.’ I wrap the black gloves together tightly and drop them onto my bag.

  She rolls her eyes. ‘Fine. But if anyone comes looking for me, I’m going to at least attempt to put them on their ass.’

  She launches her fist at my face and I catch it with my hand easily. She pouts her lips at the failed attempt.

  ‘Nice try. And as much fun as it would be to see you attempt to kick someone’s ass, I would rather you didn’t.’

  A knock sounds out from the gym door and Sam peeks his head through. ‘Have you guys finished with your exercise session?’

  Phoebe’s cherubic face lights up at the sight of him. ‘Yep, and I nearly flattened Ellie a few times too.’ She winks.

  Sam
looks at me and smiles knowingly. I roll my eyes for effect.

  He casually walks towards us, his long legs almost skating on the air around him. How does he manage to do that?

  ‘Geez, you’re sweating like a pig,’ he says, trailing one finger down Phoebe’s neck. ‘Are you sure this is just exercise? Looks like you ladies have been throwing it down.’ He cocks his head.

  I ignore his look and pack away our gear.

  ‘No, we’re just exercising. Ellie convinced me that I needed to start working out. Apparently I’ve got to remain luscious, or so she says.’ She winks at him before picking up her towel and wiping down her arms.

  ‘You’d be luscious no matter what,’ he says grabbing her around the waist and kissing her on her forehead.

  ‘Ew, okay that’s my cue to leave.’ I pick up my bag and toss it over my shoulder. ‘Am I seeing you guys later?’

  I wait for them to stop staring into each other’s eyes. That jealously thing in the pit of my stomach is rearing its ugly head again.

  ‘Yep. We’ll pick you up at six. And make sure you bring your jacket, it’s going to be cool at football tonight,’ Phoebe says.

  I nod and wave them off. Ugh…football. I can’t believe I let Phoebe sucker me into going to the game tonight. Between her harassing me and Blake passing me hopeful looks the last few days, I didn’t really stand a chance.

  The thought of going to the game tonight makes me feel slightly vulnerable. I remember Julian’s warning—we are not the only organisation in the world threatened by power such as yours.

  Could it be happening? Could there really be another group of psychos after me? Or is it that the Puritans have found out Julian was lying when he said I was dead. If that’s the case, then he is in as much danger as I am. A sudden rush of heat courses through me—a fiery electrical current working its way into my inner fibres.

  Why am I feeling protective of him? What do I care what happens to him when he tried to kill me for goodness sake. I shut my eyes tightly against the pounding in my head. This is so ridiculous! I catch a brief glimpse of him in the grandstand and all of a sudden I feel some sort of ownership over his wellbeing? Not to mention the fact that I haven’t even seen any sign of him the last few days, and it’s not for lack of trying. I keep looking over my shoulder, checking the faces of the students around me, thinking that he is hiding amongst them, keeping a watchful, protective eye on me.