The Enchanter Heir

“Jonah prefers to treat his own injuries,” Natalie said, giving Jonah a narrow-eyed glare. “He doesn’t like to be touched.” She turned back to Emma. “You should be feeling better by tomorrow. I think the shoulder’s just sprained.”

“I feel better already,” Emma said. Which wasn’t entirely true. She felt jittery, unsettled, as if she’d careened from one unsolvable problem to another. At least when she was being held captive by wizards, she had a place to stay.

Sooner or later they’re going to ask me to leave, she thought. Then what? Emma had felt at home on the streets in Memphis, but that was her turf. She’d known she could go back to Sonny Lee’s. There was some comfort in knowing that somebody would be looking for her if she didn’t show up.

Now the streets seemed mean and spiteful, ready to chew her into bits. But she didn’t want to come to the attention of the county—the bogeyman of her childhood.

She looked up to find Jonah’s eyes fixed on her, the blue eyes shading into a dusky twilight purple. “You’re wondering what the plan is,” he said.

Something about the way he said it made the words tumble out of her, all in a rush. “I just . . . I don’t know what to do now. I don’t have any family . . . not that I know of. Tyler was all I had left. I can’t even go back home. Rowan said the killers who murdered my father might come after me, if they know I survived. I have some money in a bank account, but not much to live on. And if child welfare finds out I’m living on my own, they’ll put me in a home.” Her eyes filled with liquid misery. “When I lived in Memphis, my grandfather always worried about that. Because I was a truant, and ran the streets a lot, and he wasn’t a good role model.” She massaged her shoulder, wincing a little.

“I feel like I should go to the police, but what am I supposed to tell them? ‘Intruders came to my house and murdered my father and eight other people. How do I know? Wizards told me. No, I can’t show you the bodies. Wizards burned them all up. And, no, I don’t really remember what happened myself, because I have amnesia.’”

“Likely the memory is still there,” Natalie said, taking Emma’s hand. “Sometimes we just hide away memories that are too painful to deal with at first. As you recover, you’ll gradually remember more.”

“Don’t push it, though,” Jonah said quickly. “Right now it’s probably risky to stir all that up.”

“Since when are you an expert on memory loss?” Natalie glared at him.

“I’m just saying that after all she’s been through, she should focus on resting, and healing, and taking care of herself.” He turned to Emma. “If you have no place else to go, you belong here . . . at the Anchorage. I can introduce you to Gabriel Mandrake, the founder. If you’re admitted, you can just stay here, lay low, and finish high school. Then do whatever you want.”

“You’ve got her whole life planned out, Kinlock?” Natalie rolled her eyes. “Did you think of asking her? Or did you just plan on talking her into it?”

“I just . . . I’m not trying to tell you what to do,” Jonah said.

“But . . . I’ll need paperwork,” Emma said, thinking how easy it sounded when he said it, but knowing different. “I’ve been kicked out of enough schools to know you don’t just go knock on another school’s door and ask to be let in. They want to know what they’re getting into.”

“This school is different,” Natalie said. “We’re used to taking in strays. A lot of us don’t succeed in regular schools. Our minds don’t work the same as other people’s. And some of us come from bad situations, because most of us were orphaned at Thorn Hill. I lived with family for a while before I came here, but they couldn’t deal anymore. And I guess I couldn’t deal with them.”

“You should know that some of us are damaged,” Jonah said. “We’re on medication, to control seizures and prevent magical accidents. To allow us to live in polite society. Just so you know what you’re getting into.” He sounded unapologetic, almost defiant. Take it or leave it, he seemed to be saying.

Magical accidents. I wonder what that means, Emma thought. “I don’t want drugs,” she said, shrinking back in her chair.

“That’s up to you,” Jonah said, “but some of us do better with help.” He turned toward Natalie, focused the hot intensity of his gaze on her. “Nat, remember what I said. It’ll be a lot less complicated if we don’t mention Emma’s connection to Rowan DeVries and the Black Rose.”

Natalie frowned, looking puzzled. “But if Gabriel knew about this, it might convince him that you’re right . . . that we need to focus more on the threat from wizards. If he realized that they have some kind of plot under way, that they’re kidnapping savants, he—”

“He knows that, Natalie,” Jonah growled, his voice ragged with frustration. “Wizards tortured and murdered Jeanette, and he’s doing nothing about it. I think they kidnapped her because they’re planning another Thorn Hill. I begged him to take action. I even volunteered to try and find out what they’re up to. He said no. When I persisted, he kicked me out of Nightshade.”

“Nightshade?” Emma looked from Natalie to Jonah. “What’s that?”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. “It’s a . . . a kind of service club,” Jonah said finally. “The point is, all Gabriel cares about is tracking down shades. It’s like an obsession with him. A grudge match. Meanwhile, wizards do as they please, and he doesn’t care.”

Emma’s head was swimming. It wasn’t just wizards, sorcerers, enchanters, and the like. Now it was shades, too.

“Jonah, I’m sure if you’d just talk to him—” Natalie began.

“I have talked to him. I get nowhere. For all I know, he’ll hand Emma right back to them. To keep the peace.”

“No,” Natalie said, shaking her head. “He would never do that. And I’m not going to lie to him.”

“If you’d said that a year ago, I would have agreed with you,” Jonah persisted, an undercurrent of urgency in his voice. “But these days, I can’t predict what he’ll do next.”

“Maybe I’d be safer out running the streets,” Emma said. “No offense.”

Jonah and Natalie both started talking at once, their protests mingling together. Emma put up her hand to hush them. “I’m joking, all right? I’ll tell whatever story you want. But, just so you know, I’m not a very good liar.”

No problem, Jonah’s expression said. We’ll lie for you.

“You should decide,” Natalie said to Emma. “You’re the one who has to live with this. What do you want to tell Gabriel about what happened?”

“Emma,” Jonah said, and his voice seemed to arrow into her, as sweet and potent as Southern Comfort. “I’m just saying that the safest thing for all of us is if nobody knows you survived.”

“Not fair, Kinlock,” Natalie said. “Not fair doing the enchanter thing.”

He just shrugged, as if to say, Sue me.

Enchanter thing? What had Tyler said about enchanters? Enchanters? Stay away from them. They can talk you into anything.

But Jonah was a savant, right? Not an enchanter. But he’d never really said what kind of magical ability he had.

Emma felt pinned down, trapped between Natalie’s scowl and Jonah’s blue-eyed gaze. “Well,” she said finally. “I guess the fewer people that know who I really am, the safer I’ll be.” And the less likely I’ll end up a ward of the county, she added silently.

Natalie rolled her eyes. “Fine. We won’t tell Gabriel.”

And, once again, Jonah Kinlock got his way.

“So what can we say?” Emma asked. “Who am I supposed to be?”

“I was at the homeless shelter today,” Natalie said. “I volunteer once a week. I could say I met you there.”

Emma shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”

“You can stay here tonight,” Natalie said, “if you’re okay with the couch.”

“Good,” Jonah said. “I’ll let you get some sleep. We’ll talk to Gabriel tomorrow.” He stood and moved catlike to the door, as if he couldn’t wait to get out of there. Then swiveled back toward them. “I think those wizards were at your house for the same reason they murdered Jeanette. They’re working a plan that involves finding people