Veiled Spirits - Page 61

Bishop smirks at me, enjoying my predicament. I flip him off with my right hand, hoping my mom doesn’t see. When she doesn’t comment on it, I resist the urge to fist-pump in victory.

“Aggie told us about the council killing young mages. I figured you’d want to investigate.” Bishop shrugs as he drops that bomb on my family.

“What are you talking about, Bishop?” my dad asks him.

I can’t focus on that as I realize I haven’t seen Aggie since I woke up. Trying not to worry that something has happened to the ghost who has become one of my best friends, I pull on the thread of magic that connects us.

Aggie materializes over the table. She looks around, confused, for a second before spotting me. “Kid!” She zooms over to me and wraps me in a spectral hug I can’t feel. “How are you feeling? Are you okay? Is your magic okay?”

I smile at her rapid-fire questions as she backs up to float over the table in front of me. “I’m fine, Aggie. I’ll be back to full strength in a few days.”

“You scared the shit out of me! Don’t do that again, kid!” Aggie yells at me now that she’s assured that I’m not dying.

“I’m sorry, Aggie. I really am.” Worrying everyone is the last thing I was trying to do.

“You better be. I’m too old for this shit.” Aggie huffs.

I laugh, and she glares at me. When I take my focus off Aggie, I realize the whole table is staring at me. That’s not awkward or anything.

“Are you talking to a ghost?” Archer asks while bouncing a little in his seat.

“Um, yeah. Sorry if it’s creeping you out. I can stop.” I cringe as I wait for him to tell me I’m too weird for him.

Archer surprises me by becoming even more enthusiastic. “It’s not creepy. It’s seriously the coolest thing I’ve ever seen! Can the ghost see us?”

Aggie gives him a droll look. “I can indeed, wolf. I can even hear you. Crazy how that works.”

I snort at her sarcastic reply. Archer’s question is reasonable for someone who knows nothing about ghosts, though. “Yep, she can.”

“Oh, man. That’s awesome!” Archer gives me a wide grin, and his eyes dance with delight. At my small smile from his enthusiasm, Archer’s face lights up even more. It’s clear how much joy he gets from making others happy.

I wonder who makes sure he’s happy. A small voice in my mind whispers that I could be that person. I shut it down really fucking fast. Happiness and I don’t go hand in hand. All I do is drag people down. Someone like Archer deserves a delightful ray of sunshine, which I certainly am not.

Before I can get bogged down by my thoughts of how Archer deserves better, my dad asks me, “Can you tell me what’s going on with the ghosts and the council?”

I groan as I remember what led to this whole debacle. It’s yet another problem I have no idea how to solve. “Young mages from less powerful families are being recruited by the council. All the ghosts could tell me was that they were in the mage development program, were taken for testing in the council basement, and then nothing. There were about forty to fifty ghosts. The twenty I healed all told me the same story.”

“That’s Doyle’s pet project,” my dad informs me. I shudder at the thought of that awful mage. Something about him always gives me the heebie-jeebies. “I thought it was strange he suddenly wanted to help less advantaged mages and didn’t want my input at all.”

“I don’t know what they’re doing, but it’s not good. All the ghosts were really messed up, including Amelia. They were all killed by a bunch of cuts that resulted in losing too much blood, I think.” I try to swallow around the lump in my throat at the thought of Lia. She didn’t deserve what happened to her.

“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.” My mom wraps one of her arms around me and pulls me into a comforting hug. I linger for a few moments before pulling back.

When I straighten, I see the wolves and Bishop staring at me with concern. I avoid their gazes because I don’t need them to know how much I’m hurting inside over Lia dying. They’re already worried enough about me as it is.

I’m a mess.

Dad’s expression has become increasingly thunderous as he listens to me. “That conniving little fucker! I knew he didn’t want to help them out of the goodness of his cold, dead heart.”

“Why is he killing them?” I ask him.

“I don’t know, Iz. I have no idea what Doyle stands to gain from murdering children.”

“I thought Izzy, Levi, and I could go with you to the next council meeting,” Bishop tells my dad. “We can poke around while everyone’s occupied. Hopefully, we’ll be able to get a better idea of what’s happening.”

“Absolutely fucking not. Izzy isn’t going with you,” Luca growls at Bishop.

My brows raise in disbelief at him thinking he gets to dictate what I do and don’t do. “That’s cute, wolf boy, that you think you have any say in whether I go or not.”