A Savage Spell (The Nix Series Book 4)

light burst out of it, catching the abnormal square in the face. He went down snarling, shaking his head, but it was too late. The deep green magic coated his face, sank into his skin, and seeped into every orifice, cutting off any chance of escape.
The abnormal was on his knees, shaking his head, trying to throw it off, clawing at his own face. He was holding his breath. Ernest pushed back farther.
“It won’t work,” George said, bending to put the box on the floor and secure a pair of silvery bracelets on the abnormal. “Captain at the mountain facility said they got one like this. Best to kill him now.” The abnormal gave a lazy lurch forward, and George pinned him to the ground with a big boot.
“Deal with him.” Gardreel waved him away. “If you think we can use him—”
“Perhaps we can,” Ernest said, his mind working through the puzzle that was the woman on the monitor. “Did he not say she was strong enough to kill one of his kind of abnormal? If in fact that is true, he would be an excellent litmus test for her strength and skill set.”
Why was he saving the monster in front of him? The answer bothered Ernest, getting under his skin.
To see if he could save another monster who intrigued him with her soft skin and dark hair.
“You see, this is why I like you, Ernest,” Gardreel said. “You may be a coward, but you are a thinking coward. Which makes you useful.”
Ernest lowered his eyes, hating how little he felt next to his boss.
“Say thank you, Ernest.”
“Thank you, Gardreel,” he said. His shoulders shrunk as Gardreel slapped a hand on the back of his neck and squeezed just a little too hard.
“Perhaps you will make captain yet.” Gardreel left the room, following George and the still struggling but mostly incapacitated abnormal.
The box remained on the floor. Wooden, with a lid that hung open, dangling, wisps of green magic trailing out of it. He knew the incantation by heart, although he could not himself produce anything so powerful. His abilities lay elsewhere. Not like the abnormals they were dealing with, of course—his abilities were a God-given gift meant to help humanity.
Yet, standing there, seeing the last bits of the spell dissipate and knowing the savage damage it wreaked on the minds of those it cleansed, he had a moment of doubt. Just one, yet it was enough to send his heart racing.
What if they were wrong?

1
Clearview Rehabilitation Center
One year later
“Lucky you, Fi, you get to take the greenhorn around and hope he doesn’t shit himself like the last one.”
I smiled over my shoulder, tucking a stray strand of my dyed blond hair behind my ear. “As always, your jealousy rears its ugly face, Shane. Hard to compete with what’s already stuck on your skin, but it manages.”
The young guy beside me shook hard, bringing my eyes back to him, a tremor that was visible even with the straitjacket that pinned his hands down and kept him from flailing about.
“Ignore Shane,” I said softly, keeping my voice even and smooth. “He’s one of those who will never leave this place. Mind you, unlike some of the others, he can at least speak. Other than that, he’s—”
“Crazy,” the young man said. I looked him over, really seeing him for the first time. He was in his early twenties, maybe even late teens. Sandy blond hair and a face that made me think he could have been an actor in another place or time with the square jaw, light stubble, and perfect nose. Not a model, he wasn’t pretty enough for that, but an actor for sure. The muscles in his neck flicked as he ground his teeth, which strengthened the hard line of his chin and the edge of danger that clung to him. No, not a model.
“Maybe crazy isn’t quite the right word, but I’ll leave it for now. It’s your first day; I don’t want to overwhelm you.” I slid my arm through the gap in his bound arms so I could help him keep his balance as we walked the facility. This was standard procedure: show the newbies around, see how they reacted.
“You don’t believe what they’re telling me, do you? That abnormals aren’t real? That it’s all in our heads?” Blue eyes latched onto mine, demanding an answer. Begging me to side with him.
I shrugged. “You want to know what I think? What I really think?”
He nodded and lowered his voice. “I know who you are.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Do you now?” Well, that was a surprise. I certainly didn’t know him, and I hadn’t thought anyone of his generation would have a clue about me. About who I had thought I was, at least. I wasn’t that person.
No, you were never a killer. Never a monster. The voice that whispered to me was not my own, but it was familiar, nonetheless. It had been with me my whole time in this place, and while not exactly pleasant, there was nothing malicious about it. What felt like fingers tightened inside my skull, digging into my mind. I didn’t fight the feeling, just breathed through it and tried to focus on the kid in front of me. Like a doctor digging out a sliver, it had to hurt if it was to heal.
The kid’s sandy blond hair covered the top of his eyes as he nodded, and he spoke out of the side of his mouth as if he were a piss-poor ventriloquist.
“You’re the Phoenix.” He leaned in close to me, flexing his bicep. “You’re going to break us all out of here, aren’t you? I can help. I can.”
I patted his arm and sighed. “You know, every person I’ve walked through the facility thinks they’re going to break out and go back to their life before. Go back to a world that doesn’t exist. We’re all here for a reason, kid. The sooner you accept that, the