Veiled Spirits

“Yep.” Bishop slings his arm over my shoulders now that the wolves aren’t here. He’s used to reining in his touchy-feely tendencies with me when other people are around. I guess Levi doesn’t count as people.

“I figured as much. What about you, demon boy?” I turn to Levi with a brow raised.

He snorts at his new nickname. “Yes, I’ll follow you home, little raven. But I’m not a demon.”

“Whatever you say, screech owl.” I mutter, “Aperire.” A portal whooshes into existence in front of us. I reach the portal in a few steps. Even though I know it’s coming, I still hate the feeling of getting sucked into sticky quicksand. Luckily, it’s over quickly, and I pop out in front of my house.

I live in a two-story, light-blue Victorian house. The porch, columns, and trim are all white, and the roof is dark gray that looks almost black. My favorite part of the house is the turret out front. While the bottom of the turret is a screened-in porch, the upstairs portion is open to the elements. I love lying out there on summer nights, breathing in the warm air and staring at the stars.

Bishop and Levi step out onto the perfectly trimmed green grass of the front yard. It’s handy being a mage. Instead of spending an hour mowing weekly, my dad can just use his magic to trim it up. Magic is how I color the ends of my shoulder-blade-length hair blue and purple, too. It would be a lot of upkeep otherwise.

Letting the wisp of magic go, I close the portal behind us. I jog up the front of the white steps and push open the navy door. I shrug my backpack off in the entryway and untie my Converse. My mom prefers no shoes in the house but isn’t super strict about it.

Once I’m sans shoes, I pad across the natural antique pine floors toward the kitchen. As an old Queen Anne Victorian, my house doesn’t have an open-floor plan. Instead, I have to pass through the foyer, sitting room, and dining room to reach the kitchen where my mom is.

The kitchen is, for the most part, authentic to the time period of the house. Natural wood floors, sage green cabinets, marble countertops, and intricate molding dominate the space. Several large windows keep the space from feeling too dark. A long pine table sits in the middle as an island, which is where my mom is.

When I see her, I break into a run. “Mom!” I say louder than necessary as I crash into her and wrap my arms around her. My mom is a few inches shorter than me. We have the same golden hair, gray eyes, and pointed chins. As I squeeze her tight, I breathe in her familiar rose garden scent.

“Isabel, honey, is something wrong?” my mom asks as she squeezes me tight.

“I just had a nightmare.” I pull back when I remember that Bishop and Levi are right behind me. It’s probably weird to need reassurance from my mom as a grown adult, but the two of them can get bent if they have a problem with it.

When I step back, my mom smiles at Bishop, who’s getting a glass of water, before looking at Levi. She turns her gaze back to me. “Who’s this, Izzy?”

“My combat instructor,” I tell her as unhelpfully as possible.

“Oh. Why is he here?” my mom asks with the patience of a saint. This woman should get sainthood for putting up with my moody ass for twenty-one years.

“He has a thing for banging students. I agreed to help him live out his fantasy for better grades. What better place to do the deed than my parents’ house?” I deadpan. I’m impressed with myself for getting through all of that with a straight face.

My mom gapes at me. I hear coughing and turn to see Bishop choking on his water. Levi is helpfully patting his back. Once Bishop stops hacking up a lung, he glares at me. “Stop being a shit stirrer, Izzy.” Bishop turns to my mom and explains, “Levi’s another one of her mates, Maggie.”

Mom turns to me slowly while glaring. I give her an innocent look and shrug. She shakes her head in exasperation. My mom is used to me being a little shit, though. Turning to Levi, my mom says, “Well, with that stellar introduction from my lovely daughter out of the way, it’s nice to meet you, Levi.”

Levi is as cool and collected as ever. He doesn’t even seem mad at how I introduced him. I’d probably be a little peeved if I were him, but I’d still find it funny. Does anything faze him?

“It’s wonderful to meet you,” Levi tells my mom, dialing up the charm to eleven. I wish I had that ability, but I don’t have any setting other than snarky shit stirrer.

“Why didn’t you tell me you found another mate?” My mom turns back to the lasagna she’s making. Yum. Her lasagna is definitely the best out there. I’m lucky my mom is such a good cook. We always eat well in our household.

While my mom likes cooking, I’m the baker of the family. I love the science aspect of baking. Of course, I enjoy the eating sweet treats part of baking too. That’s what got me interested in the first place. “Well, I just found out today at school. I didn’t have a chance to tell you.”

“You have a phone,” she points out while turning to place the dish in the oven. Once dinner’s in the oven, she takes off her blue apron and smooths down her blue-and-white sundress.

“Fair.” I could’ve texted her, but my day has been crazy.

“Did you hear that Amelia’s missing too, now?” my mom asks distractedly as she starts in on the dishes. Bishop, being the thoughtful guy he is, immediately jumps in to help her.

“I didn’t. What’s that now, three mages missing in as many months?” Mages have been disappearing in Hawthorne Grove on and off for the last year. No one knows what’s going on, but I don’t have a good feeling about it.

I hope Amelia is all right. She’s a few years younger than me and super sweet. I used to babysit her when I was in high school. Since she’s from a less influential mage family, she was often the target of bullying too.

We don’t have a chance to discuss it further because my oldest brother walks into the kitchen. “What’s with all the commotion?” a sleepy Rhys asks. He must have worked late last night to just be getting up. Rhys works in private security. He’s powerful enough he could’ve worked for the mage council, but Rhys wouldn’t have done well with all the bureaucracy.

At least he put a shirt on with his blue flannel PJ pants. Rhys loves to wander around shirtless. It’s embarrassing when I have people over, which, admittedly, isn’t often.

As soon as I see my brother, I run over to him. I slam into him and give him a tight hug. I’m relieved to see that he’s all right. My nightmares suck ass. His arms band around me briefly before I pull back. “Tell anyone I hugged you, and I’ll slit your throat in your sleep,” I whisper-threaten.