Boundary Crossed (Boundary Magic #1)(41)

“That solves one mystery, anyway,” Lily offered.

I looked at Simon. “It was the magic,” he explained. “Your friend didn’t bring you back. When you died that first time, it woke your magic.”

I felt my eyes go big as his meaning sunk in. At the hospital Simon had said you had to use magic within a window of time, around puberty, in order for it to become active. A sour taste filled my mouth as I remembered all that river water.

As if he could read my mind, Simon got up and poured me a mug of something warm and greenish. Tea. Gratefully, I picked it up and took a sip. It was flavored with berries, or maybe pomegranate, and only a little bit warmer than room temperature. I drank anyway, ignoring the bitterness, trying to gather my thoughts.

“Your mom said I have death in my blood,” I said finally. “Like I was the goddamned Grim Reaper or something.”

The siblings exchanged another look, a shorthand communication, and I felt a sudden pang of grief for Sam. I would never have that again. “We really are sorry about that,” Simon told me. “Mom just panicked a little. There aren’t many boundary witch bloodlines anymore, and most of the remaining ones have let their blood go dormant on purpose.”

“That’s seen as . . . you know, the responsible thing to do,” Lily said apologetically. “The powers are too dangerous, too visible.”

Seeing my confusion, Simon added, “She means they’re hard to hide.”

“What powers?” I asked, getting frustrated again. “I mean, I get that not being able to die is a big deal, but how am I dangerous to anyone else?”

Lily glanced at her brother. “This is more your area of expertise, Si.” To me, she added, “Our mom doesn’t know, but he’s been studying the evolution of magic. As a”—she lifted her fingers to make air quotes—“side project.”

Simon made a face at his sister. “You make it sound like I took up scrapbooking or something.” He shrugged and lowered his voice. “Look, the truth is . . . I don’t know much about boundary witches. I’ve never met an active one. But my broad understanding is that you specialize in anything that deals with the line between life and death.”

Seeing that that had cleared up absolutely nothing for me, Lily mused, “Well, you’ll probably be able to sense magic. Most of us can, of course, because it’s the force of creation, of life. But it’s also a force of death, I guess.”

“Okay . . .”

“And if you really are as powerful as Mom suspects, you might be able to communicate with remnants,” Simon said thoughtfully. “Spirits that, for whatever reason, don’t cross the line when they die.”

“That’s . . . you’re talking about ghosts,” I said stupidly. “Like . . . ghosts.”

He nodded, apparently oblivious to how absurd he sounded. “You’ll also age much more slowly than foundings or other witches,” he continued, “because your cells will be reluctant to die. That’s probably the real reason why your face looks so young.”

“So there’s a plus,” Lily said, giving me a small smile.

“Oh, also, boundary witches have a special affinity for vampires,” Simon added. Beside me, Lily made an “oh, yeah” face.

“What does that mean, affinity?” I said, feeling lost.

“Remember the rule that magic doesn’t work against itself? Well, vampire bodies are dead, reanimated by magic. They were supposed to cross the line, but they didn’t.”

My eyes immediately darted to Lily, who seemed accustomed to translating for her brother. “You can press ’em, Lex,” Lily said cheerfully. “Turnabout is fair play, and all that.”

“Oh.” At least that explained what I’d done to Darcy the night before. “And that’s why she wanted me,” I said to myself. To the Pellars, I added, “Maven, I mean. That must be why she wanted Itachi to hire me.” And maybe why I’d felt such a head rush in her presence.

Simon and Lily exchanged another look, though I couldn’t interpret this one. “Okay,” I said slowly, my thoughts dragging through corn syrup. “A few days ago, I was a register monkey at an all-night convenience store. Today it turns out I can’t die, I age slowly, I might be able to talk to f*cking ghosts, pardon my language, and I can press vampires.” I shook my head. It was just too surreal.

Then an image flashed in my mind: Hazel Pellar standing between me and her kid, a look of determined hatred on her face. You don’t look at someone like that just because they can press vampires. “There’s something you’re not telling me,” I said, looking up so I could gauge their reactions. “Why does your mom hate boundary witches so much?”

Lily looked away, fiddling with a couple of silver rings on her fingers. Simon said softly, “It’s a . . . historical thing, Lex. During the Middle Ages, boundary witches . . . did some things.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So did the Christians,” I countered. “But nobody gets tossed at a car for going to Sunday school.”

Lily gave a little snort, but she still avoided meeting my eyes. Simon heaved a sigh. “Don’t freak out,” he said reluctantly. “But, theoretically . . . you can raise the dead.”





Chapter 19