The Secret of Spellshadow Manor 4 by Bella Forrest (best e book reader android TXT) 📗

predilections, worried it would come out of his mouth as a torrent of accusation and irritation. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he didn’t feel like himself with so much anger coursing through his veins. It wasn’t him.

Turning back to Natalie, he caught a flash of something in her eyes that unsettled him, as if she were biting her tongue again, longing to say something but preventing herself, much the same as he was. Frowning, he wondered what it was she wanted to say to him, and was about to encourage her to spew whatever venom she wanted his way, when Jari entered the room. He had left with Aamir when the group disbanded twenty minutes earlier, but Aamir was no longer with him.

“Where’s Aamir?” Alex asked.

Jari shrugged. “Dunno. I’m not his keeper.”

“It’s like trying to wrangle slippery eels,” Alex said under his breath. “Why didn't you two stay here and work on your magic? We’re supposed to be moving out soon, into God knows how much danger—and we don’t have time to waste, waiting for people!” As he spoke, his voice rose into a shout and his fists clenched.

In the haze of anger that had settled upon him, he was only vaguely aware that he might be blowing the situation out of proportion. All he could think was that his friends simply weren’t taking their situation seriously enough; they seemed frivolous, more than eager to wander off and do as they pleased instead of putting plans into action or coming up with fresh ideas that might help them succeed. That job seemed to perpetually fall upon his shoulders, and he was growing tired of bearing its weight. The whole group was in a great deal of danger, and he had enough on his plate without having to chase after everyone and make sure they weren’t up to no good. He was sick of playing dad to them. Aamir of all people should have known better—he was older than Alex.

Despite his attempts to smother the feelings roiling inside him, he felt his eyes beginning to burn with white-hot rage.

“Whoa… dude. Your eyes are, like… glowing,” Jari said, taking a step back.

Alex turned quickly away from Jari’s gaze. The barrier and its influence made him feel more out of control than he had felt since he first learned of his strange heritage, to the point that he wasn’t sure he was even governing his own body anymore.

When Aamir appeared a minute later, Alex strode over, cornering his friend.

“Where have you been?” he hissed.

“The bathroom,” Aamir replied evenly, his brow furrowed.

Alex moved in close, his face mere inches from Aamir’s. “You had better not be up to your old tricks again,” he whispered.

Aamir stared at Alex, his expression a mix of surprise and confusion. “No, of course not,” he said, lowering his voice. “I was just in the bathroom, as I said. I passed Lintz on the way there—you can ask him.”

Alex couldn’t decide what to believe as he tried to focus on his friend’s face, seeking out any sign of a lie. His mind felt so clouded, and his chest ached dully, jolting sharply every so often and refreshing the pain. Before he knew what he was doing, Alex lunged forward and grasped Aamir roughly by the shoulders.

“If you ever betray us again, you’ll wish you’d never been born,” he growled.

It shocked Alex, and everyone else in the room by the looks on their faces, to hear the words pouring from his mouth. He quickly let go of Aamir, an expression of abject horror on both their faces. It was entirely out of character for Alex, and he didn’t know where it had come from or what had prompted him to say it—he felt as if he were watching a twisted version of himself from behind a glass screen, unable to stop his avatar from lashing out.

“The Head has no control over me now. I would never betray you,” said Aamir steadily, though his breath hitched, and his expression showed deep distress at Alex’s outburst. “Are you feeling okay?” He reached for Alex’s shoulder.

Alex wrenched his arm away. “It’s just the air,” he murmured. “I can’t breathe. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. I’ll be back… I’m sorry.” He rushed from the room, hoping his friends wouldn’t hate him upon his return. He felt like a hypocrite now and loathed the fact that he was wasting valuable time, but he knew he couldn’t spend a moment longer in that room, feeling as he did.

As he ran toward an open space, desperate for fresh air upon his face, he knew the outburst had something to do with his torn soul, aggravated by the bristle of the barrier magic. It worried him, and he hoped fervently that he had not done himself irreversible damage.

Bursting through an unknown door, he found himself on a walkway between turrets. Instantly, the pressure of the barrier faded slightly and he moved toward the wall, clinging to it for purchase, thinking he might collapse. He gripped the edge of the slick stone until his head stopped spinning, ignoring the flakes of snow gathering beneath his palms. This time, his anti-magic didn’t even try to delve deeper into the barrier; it seemed his defenses had learned their lesson. No red fog came, no demons pounced, no spears hurtled toward his head. The only reaction was the flurries.

Everything seemed to be slipping away from him. No matter how hard he gripped the wall, he couldn’t fully regain his hold on reality. Squeezing his eyes shut, he wondered if he might be on the verge of a mental breakdown. Nothing felt right anymore—he didn’t recognize himself.

Chapter 7

After calming himself as best he could, Alex made his way toward the tower room to join the others, hoping to get back before Vincent came to collect them. He walked slowly, hoping he was going the right way as he passed identical hallway after identical hallway.

His heart missed a beat