The Black Diamond and the Magic Box

By T-Pot .

Following their ordeal with the mayor, warlocks Derek, Tre’Vell, Omar and Matthias enter their second year of college with enthusiasm. It doesn’t take long for disaster to strike, however. Matthias’ relationship with Rhonda turns rocky, Derek’s grimoire begins to display strange behavior, and the boys come up against a powerful and ancient evil that cannot be killed. Following a harrowing defeat, the magical quartet must quickly regroup and search for a way to stop the being. The key lies in the secrets contained within their past and once they discover it, one of the warlocks must be willing to make a heart-wrenching sacrifice! New allies are made, old allies are lost, and the lives of the warlocks will never be the same!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9781664108516

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Copyright © 2021 by T-Pot.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021919943

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,

recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 09/25/2021

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CONTENTS

Introduction

Symbol

Deandre

Rosebud

Theft

Divulge

Intercourse

Memories

Amulet

Powerless

Baltimore

Battleground

Visions

Hound

Scratched

Breakthrough

Voodoo

Book

Buburukan

Transformation

Volunteer

History

Struggle

Potent

Legend

Prophecy

Bargain

Doubts

Bypass

Invitation

Decline

Bittersweet

Deception

Epilogue

INTRODUCTION

Ding! Dong!

Matthias arose from his spot on the couch and went to go answer the door. As he approached it, he glanced at the clock on the wall. It was five o’clock on-the-dot. He shook his head. His father was almost never late. He was also rarely early. How could he always plan to arrive at his destination at exactly the right time? It was something Matthias had not figured out in the nearly twenty years that he knew him.

Hi, Dad, Matthias said as he let his father into the house.

Son, his father, Isaac, acknowledged as he gave his son a light hug.

They entered the house. To the left of the door was a coat closet. The hallway led directly to the kitchen. Once you went a little past the coat closet, there was a staircase that led to the second floor. Directly opposite the staircase was the living room. Matthias and his dad went into it.

This is the living room, said Matthias.

The room had a cream-and-blue wallpaper covering the walls. A fireplace stood on the far wall opposite of the doorway to the hallway. A brown couch and love seat guarded a small glass table. A window, nestled in the far corner of the room, regulated the natural light that passed through the room.

It’s not much, Isaac commented.

Eh. It’ll get the job done, said Matthias.

The two of them walked into the next room.

This is the conservatory, said Matthias.

A white wicker chair shrunk in the corner of the room. Wall-length glass window panes made up the wall that led to the outside of the house. Dodger, Derek’s familiar, lounged in the sunlight of the late afternoon sky.

Isaac scoffed, Conservatory is just a fancy name for a sunroom. He walked over to the black-and-chocolate dog and rubbed his stomach. The pooch flung his leg with delight.

Matthias smiled at the sight before continuing with the tour. They walked into the dining room. On the far wall was a cherry oak cabinet that housed some decorative china sets. The middle of the room had a large table that sat eight people. Hanging over the table was a brilliant chandelier.

This room is never going to be used, said Isaac.

Yes, it will.

You don’t cook. Do any of the other guys?

Matthias thought about that. Actually, I’m not sure. I don’t think so. But you can do more in a dining room than dine, you know.

Isaac smiled at a fond memory that bubbled to the surface. So are we headed upstairs?

Not yet. I want to show you something first, Matthias answered.

He led his father from the dining room, across the hall, and to a door.

The kitchen was back there and the backdoor is as well. I didn’t think that was all that important to see. It’s a standard kitchen.

Yet another room that will get little use, said Isaac. And what’s behind door number 4?

This leads to the basement. It’s where we keep all of our magic stuff, said Matthias.

Isaac frowned. There’s no lock on the door, he pointed out. That’s unwise. I thought I taught you better than that.

Matthias smirked. You did. It’s locked. Go ahead. Try to open the door.

Isaac twisted the doorknob, but it was indeed locked. I don’t see a lock on this door, but my power is tingling.

That’s because we put a mystical whammy on the door. The door only opens for one of us.

Isaac thought about something. "Rebultu, he chanted as he tried to open the door again. It remained steadfast. Impressive."

Glad you like it. Matthias opened the door, and they descended the stairs.

The room was pretty barren. A wooden table housed a few herbs. A black-and-gold chest was stationed in the corner. A bookstand stood solitary in the middle of the room, and on it was a large black tome. Isaac glided over to it, sensing its power.

Is this…?

Yup, said Matthias as he joined his father at the bookstand. He looked down at the lion that graced the book’s cover. That’s Derek’s grimoire.

Slightly mesmerized, Isaac marveled, The energy I’m picking up from this thing is amazing! He went to open it.

Dad! No, don’t!

Before his hands could touch the book, he went stumbling backward and awkwardly fell on his backside. Ouch, he sighed.

Matthias offered his father a hand and helped him to his feet. I tried to stop you. The book protects itself from strangers.

Can you touch it?

Yeah. All four of us can, as a matter of fact, Matthias answered.

That another spell you guys cast?

Matthias shook his head. Nope. It’s family magic.

Isaac asked, Then why can you guys touch it?

Matthias just shrugged his shoulders. Maybe it has something to do with the binding ritual?

That would make sense. You guys are like family now… Isaac said with a hint of disapproval.

Matthias sighed. Can we not?

Where are the others anyway?

Matthias replied, They went to the pool.

Isaac wondered, Why didn’t you go with them?

Matthias said, Dad, you know why.

That still bothers you?

Getting annoyed, Matthias said, Again, can we not? Let’s just go upstairs so I can show you my room.

The two warlocks trekked up the stairs, walked the hall to the stairway that led to the upper level, and climbed them. At the top of the stairs, Isaac saw four rooms and a bathroom.

My room is the first one on the left. Right over here, his son said and led him to the door.

Isaac’s senses began buzzing again. Once his son opened the door, he quickly understood why.

What? Isaac demanded. This looks exactly like your room back home. Exactly.

Matthias nervously chuckled. Well…we might have…cast a charm on all of our rooms.

You did what?

Matthias cut off his father’s impending lecture. It helps with the transition. Besides, it’s a little magical practice for us. If we’re going to do this whole diamond thing, stuff like this can help. We need to get comfortable with each other’s magic.

Isaac only frowned before walking out of the room. Matthias followed him out and down the stairs.

Well, I have to get going. Bryant needs to get picked up from his baseball game. He walked out of the house and toward his car.

Omar, Derek, and Tre’Vell came walking up the driveway toward him. They were still wet from the pool, causing their skin to glisten in the setting sun.

Hey, Mr. Isaac, they said in unison.

Boys, he greeted curtly as he walked past them.

I wonder who pissed in his cereal, Derek quipped.

*****

Tre’Vell silently stared off, deep in thought. The bus ride was remarkably quiet, allowing him to reflect on the reason for his ride. He was on his way to a rally at Rodney Square in downtown Pottington with his friend Jackson. The rally was in protest of a recent shooting that had taken place in Missouri. A black teenager had been shot by a police officer, who was white, and his death sparked violent protests in the area. The uprising had captured the attention of the world.

Tre’Vell had conflicted feelings about the case because he was hearing conflicting reports. Some say that the teen was shot in cold blood after having his hands up. Others say that he had actually attacked the officer and was reaching for his gun. It was reported that the guy was unarmed, while other reports stated that he had robbed a convenience store just before he was confronted by the officer. Tre’Vell didn’t know what was true and what wasn’t, but he did know that the images that were broadcast to the world of the uprising were heartbreaking. He didn’t enjoy seeing the violence that engulfed that city. It reminded him of his hometown of Baltimore in his younger years.

Tre! You good? Jackson said, nudging his friend in the arm.

Huh? Yeah, I’m fine.

Man, it’s crazy that this bus is so crowded. I ain’t never seen it this full at this time of day, said Jackson.

Tre’Vell said, Probably got somethin’ to do with the rally.

Said Jackson, You think it’s gonna be a lot of people there?

Tre’Vell took some time to answer before offhandedly offering, Maybe.

Concerned, Jackson asked, You sure you okay?

Tre’Vell nodded. Lemme ask you somethin’.

Shoot.

When’s the last time you heard from Deandre?

Jackson considered his question. A couple of months, I guess. Why?

’Cuz I ain’t heard from him in that long neither.

That weird?

Tre’Vell answered, A little. I been tryin’ to hit him up, but I just can’t reach him.

Jackson wondered, You don’t think something happened to him, do you?

Tre’Vell said, I don’t know. I tried callin’ him, but it keeps sayin’ it’s a nonworking number. I called the frat house that he stays at a few times, but each time they say he ain’t there. I tell them to tell him to call me back, but he ain’t done it so far…

Sounds like they ain’t giving him the messages, said Jackson.

That’s what I’m thinkin’.

If you know where the place is, I would just go over there and see if I could catch him there, Jackson suggested.

Tre’Vell nodded his head and returned to his thoughts.

*****

Omar shook his head in amusement as he watched the bumper-to-bumper traffic inch its way along the road. He sure was glad that he wasn’t trapped in that traffic like he was the previous year. Move-In Day was always a hassle. As a sophomore, he not only had the chance to avoid the hustle and bustle of moving into a dorm but he got the athlete privilege of registering for his classes a little early. With that out of the way, he could relax and watch the carnage unfold.

He ambled along the sidewalk, observing students and parents flitting to and fro. He chuckled as he watched someone almost bowl somebody over in their haste to exit a dorm. As he looked at the unfolding scene, he felt somebody bump into him. His shoulder jerked to the side as his assailant’s cell phone dropped to the ground with a clack!

My bad, said the guy.

That’s fine. Just look out where you goin’ next time, Omar replied, slightly peeved.

The guy picked his phone up off the ground. Great. The screen was now cracked.

Omar began to walk away.

Hey, I like your dreads. Where’d you get them done at?

Omar turned back around. This place on Linden St.

Oh. So you know the area?

Omar said, Yeah. Well, enough anyway. Why you ask?

Because I’m from Indiana and I need a good place to get mines done, the guy answered.

Oh, okay. It’s a salon called Zelda’s, 325 Linden St.

Thanks, man. Have a nice day. The guy turned to walk away.

You too, Omar called back to him.

Omar continued his trek. He walked past a few empty lecture halls, the library, and a student center. As he turned a corner, he saw somebody with gear from the basketball team on. As he got a closer look, he saw that it was one of the freshmen that were new to the team that year. He couldn’t remember his name exactly. Was it Steve? Sam?

Hey! Omar called out to him.

The guy turned to the sound of Omar’s voice.

"Oh, hey, esé. Omar, right?" the guy said as Omar came up on him.

Yeah. And what’s yours again?

Sergio.

Right. Sergio. You good?

Sergio sighed. Just scoping out the campus. It’s kinda hard when you got school buildings mixed with regular stuff.

Omar said, I hear that. If you ever need help with anything, I’m here. Just hit me up.

I will. Thanks.

*****

Derek looked at his printed schedule. It said that his class was somewhere in this building. He looked at the numbers on the rooms. He should be coming up on it soon. He looked at the time. Good. He was going to be just on time. The last thing he wanted to do was be late for the first day of class. Although most professors certainly understood if students were a bit late on the first day, knowing that most of them were trying to find the room, he didn’t want to leave that to chance. You only got one chance to make a good first impression after all.

He made his way into the room. Well, it looked like he had beaten the professor to the class. He thanked his lucky stars for that. He wasn’t the one who was making a bad first impression. As he looked for a seat to take, he shook his head in surprise. Toward the front of the class, he saw Omar, Tre’Vell, and Matthias sitting at one of the tables.

Y’all are taking this class too? Derek asked as he sat down next to them.

Looks like it, said Matthias.

Y’all didn’t plan this, did you? Cuz if I was left out—

Omar cut him off. No. I registered for it cuz I thought it’d be easy. How hard can a History of Sport class be?

Tre’Vell added, I’m only here cuz I needed to fill a hole in my schedule.

Whatchu mean?

I registered for a class that I didn’t know was at a satellite campus. Had to drop it, but a lot of other courses was filled. This one had a open seat, so here I am, Tre’Vell explained.

I’d drop the class if I wasn’t worried about being able to find a suitable replacement so late in registration, said Matthias.

Why would you drop a class like this? Omar’s right. It’s an easy A.

Matthias sarcastically shot, I spend enough time with you guys at home. I don’t need a class with you too.

Look on the bright side. We’ll be able to help each other with work.

Matthias retorted, I don’t need help from y’all. I got a 3.7 GPA.

Well, excuse me, Einstein, Derek mocked.

At that moment a man walked into the class, presumably the professor. He was a dark-skinned man who appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties. A pair of silver-rimmed glasses sat on a youthful visage. His hair was cropped short with a very sharp lineup. He looked to be slightly taller than six feet and was relatively lanky, probably under 170. He carried a blue-and-black sport duffle by his side. He was dressed very casually, with a graphic T-shirt, black designer jeans, and fresh-looking pair of white sneakers. An only slightly ostentatious chain dangled from his neck.

Sorry for being late. Traffic was a bitch, the man said.

That elicited a chuckle from the class.

Yeah, that’s something you’ll learn about me. I’m not opposed to dropping the occasional expletive. Sorry in advance. Okay, let’s get started. My name is Damon Stoudemire. You can call me Damon, Professor Damon, Professor Stoudemire I don’t care either way. I attended undergrad at Washington University and received my PhD at Vanderbilt. I could see the looks on some of your faces, and yes, I am pretty young. Not that much older than you, as a matter of fact. I got my BA only about seven years ago. I also like long walks on the beach.

That quip garnered another chuckle from the class.

Enough about me. I’m sure you want to hear more about what you’ll be doing for the rest of the semester. I know because when I was in undergrad and had a professor drone on and on about themselves, that’s the only thing I was thinking. The first thing I will say is that for those of you that chose this course thinking it was going to be an easy A may be slightly disappointed. This class is an interactive and engaging course, which should make the work a lot less tedious, but it isn’t easy. There will be a quiz every Monday about the previous week’s material. The only test will be the final. There will be three group projects that will be due at the end of each month that will combine to account for a third of your grade, with your quizzes making up a third, and the final making up the final third.

We got stuff due every week. I hate classes like that, whispered Tre’Vell.

We’ll get started by creating the groups for the semester. There’s twenty students so we’ll have five groups of four. In my duffle bag are slips of paper with the name of a sport on it— basketball, football, baseball, soccer, and hockey. Whichever sport you draw will be your cohort for the semester on the group projects. After the draw, we’ll split up into our cohorts and do an icebreaker to get to know your group mates. So come on up.

The students arose from their seats and stood in a single file line in front of the desk that held the duffle bag at the front of the room. Each of the students took turns pulling a slip of paper from the bag and returned to their seats.

What do you have? Derek asked Omar.

Hockey.

That’s ironic, commented Matthias. I have football.

Tre’Vell offered, I’m in baseball.

Derek shook his head. We would all be in different cohorts. I drew basketball.

Professor Stoudemire addressed the class. Now that you all have your groups, fan out and find each other.

*****

Tre’Vell walked into the house and practically collapsed onto the couch. His backpack slumped to the ground by the couch’s arm, mirroring its wearer’s state. Tre’Vell rested his head on the back and let out a loud sigh.

Tired? Matthias questioned.

You got no idea, Tre’Vell answered. I can already tell that my Thursdays are gonna be hell this semester.

Busy day for you?

Tre’Vell ran down his assignments. Three classes, two labs, and my longest shift at the studio.

Yeah, that does sound brutal, Matthias agreed.

Tre’Vell began to arise from his seat when Dodger barked at them from the conservatory. Woof! Woof! Tre’Vell briefly glanced at the dog before grabbing his bag. Dodger walked up to him and blocked his progress.

I think he wants to talk to you, Matthias said, a hint of smile gracing his lips.

What do you want? Tre’Vell questioned irritably.

Dodger again barked at him and paced back and forth.

I can’t understand you! he shot, frustration building.

Dodger walked out of the room and toward the kitchen.

Dumb dog. Tre’Vell walked to the steps, but Dodger reappeared in the hallway with a leash in his mouth.

Oh, hell no! I ain’t walkin’ you!

Dodger began to whine.

Tre’Vell yelled up the stairs, Derek! I think your dog needs to go out!

That caused Dodger to begin growling.

Derek emerged from his room and came bounding down the stairs. Nah, he wants you to walk him.

I ain’t walkin’ your dog! Why can’t you take him?

Because he don’t want me, he wants you. It’s his chance to get to know you better. Seeing as how you’ll be living under the same roof. Spend some quality alone time together, Derek explained.

Tre’Vell’s frustration was beginning to reach a boiling point. Nigga, you know how tired I am? I’m not walkin’ that damn dog!

Dodger’s whining grew louder and more desperate.

Look, if you don’t take him out, he’s just gonna pester you. It’ll take fifteen minutes. It’ll be a piece of cake. He practically walks hisself.

Matt, can you walk this dog for me?

Oh, I already had my turn. So has Omar, said Matthias. He was trying to contain his mirth. The situation was amusing.

Tre’Vell sighed again and looked down at Dodger. Come on! This better be quick!

*****

Smoke-choked laughter filled the air, threatening to drown out the sounds of the mayhem that was taking place on the screen. Omar, Tre’Vell, Derek, and Matthias had taken to a game of Mario Kart 8; and that could always be counted on to spice up a gathering. Omar and Matthias were playing Fifa at first before Derek and Tre’Vell joined in and proposed the colorful and chaotically violent racing game. It could keep them entertained for hours.

Do you guys have to smoke that stuff in here? Matthias asked as he waved some smoke away from his face.

What do you want us to do? Pause the game so we can go outside and smoke? Tre’Vell posited.

Matthias offered, Oh, I don’t know, you could just wait until we’re done.

Derek coughed before saying, Playin’ Mario Kart high is so much more fun. Not that Mario Kart ain’t fun anyway, but… He passed the marijuana over to Omar’s outstretched hand. He took a puff and blew out a smoke ring.

Must be why I’ve won most of the time, said Matthias.

Omar chimed in with, Nah, you be winning because the game gives you great items. How you get a lightning bolt from the front?

I stop the roulette at the right time. Skills.

That’s a theory. Here’s another one: cheatin’. This game be trippin’ sometimes.

Tre’Vell, who was in possession of the blunt by that point, passed it over to Matthias, who declined. I’m good. I want to keep winning.

Derek said, I’m just waitin’ for Smash to come out.

Omar clapped his hands together. Super Smash Bros. The funnest game out there. When it come out?

Tre’Vell answered, I think sometime in November. Probably around Black Friday.

Derek got a text message. Once he read it, he giggled before typing a reply.

What you gigglin’ like a schoolgirl for? Omar wondered.

Oh, it’s just Monica.

The RA? Y’all together? Tre’Vell asked.

Derek confusedly said, No. Yes. I don’t know. Flirted a little over the summer, but nothin’ too serious.

Just then the doorbell rang.

I got it, Matthias said, jumping up to go get the door.

The others put the blunt away and tried to dissipate the smoke.

When Matthias opened to door, a man was standing on the other side. He was clearly of Asian descent and was decently tall. His dark hair seemed to blend in with the surrounding night.

Can I help you?

Maybe, the guy said. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Inspector Summers from the PPD. He flashed Matthias his badge.

Matthias perused it. It certainly looked legit, as far as he could tell.

Who is it? he heard Derek yell from the living room.

It’s a cop, Matthias yelled back.

The other three quickly converged at the door with Matthias.

I’m here looking for a Matthias Johnson, Inspector Summers said.

Matthias stated, That’s me. Can I ask what for? And isn’t it a little late for a house call?

I’m investigating the death of the former mayor, Angela Wright, he announced. I’m the new inspector assigned to the case.

This caused each of the boy’s breath to hitch in their collective throats.

I remember hearing about that a couple months ago. It was all over the news. I thought it said that she killed herself? That it was a suicide.

Inspector Summers argued, Suicide. Right. I’ve been going over the case and some things just don’t add up. Coroner said that she died from cardiac arrest. This, despite her having no history of heart problems and being of sound health. Plus there appeared to be signs of a struggle at City Hall in various rooms. It’s all pretty strange.

The four of them exchange nervous glances.

So what were you looking for Matt for, sir? Derek asked.

The department thinks there may have been foul play involved.

Omar tried his best to feign a look of indignation. You don’t think Matt had anything to do with it, do you?

You tell me, Inspector Summers said, looking directly at Matthias.

What I know is what was reported on the news, Matthias offered.

Inspector Summers just stared at him. Is that so? Well, I have it on authority that you four paid a visit to City Hall on the day of the mayor’s death.

Whose authority?

Inspector Summers hesitated before saying, I’m not at liberty to reveal that.

Then I’m not at liberty to reveal anything either. Especially stuff that I don’t know, Matthias retorted.

What about you three? Care to tell me anything that I can use to advance the case? Any little detail would be a huge help.

Tre’Vell asked, Are we suspects?

Persons of interest.

But not suspects.

Detective Summers confirmed that. Not suspects…yet.

Derek said, I’m so sorry that we couldn’t be of more help, Inspector.

Inspector Summers shrugged his shoulders and went inside his pocket. He pulled out a card and handed it to Matthias, who accepted it hesitantly.

There’s something here, and I’m gonna find out what. If you can think of anything, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to give me a call. I’ll keep in touch.

The quartet watched him walk away.

Oh, and I won’t bust you on that marijuana. Because I’m nice like that. He made it to his car and drove off.

On a scale of one to bad, how bad is this? Omar asked.

Well, it’s certainly not good, Derek answered.

Tre’Vell asked, But why? We didn’t kill her. She was alive when we left.

Matthias said, It’s like we said before, if he goes digging hard enough, he might find out about our secret. Then who knows what’ll happen.

All right. Say he does find out. I still don’t get how that’s so bad. He still wouldn’t be able to prove we killed her. Either way, we still in the clear.

Not exactly. If our secret gets out, especially to the authorities, who knows what they’d do with that information. Keeping our secret is paramount. Knowledge about the existence of magic and the supernatural isn’t something that the world is ready for. Who knows what would happen?

Knowing the history of mankind, it definitely won’t be welcoming, Derek said. Sharing the world hasn’t proven to be one humanity’s virtues.

Omar half-heartedly supposed, Maybe he’ll actually find the real killer and leave us alone?

Matthias turned the card over in his hand. I doubt it. Something tells me that wasn’t the last that we’ve heard from him.

SYMBOL

Matthias slowly closed the door. It was late, and from the looks of the house, its occupants were asleep. The lights were off, and the moonlight that strode in from the windows didn’t reveal any movement or signs of life. His stomach started to growl, no doubt due to the match that he had just put it through. It was his first tennis match of the season, but due to a rain delay, it hadn’t started until nine o’clock. It was a relatively straightforward match. He won 6–3, 6–4 and never faced a break point. He failed to convert a few too many break point chances of his own, which needed to be cleaned up, but overall, it was a workmanlike performance and not a bad start to his campaign.

Matthias placed his bag at the foot of the stairs and began to walk toward the kitchen. One thing that bothered him was that Rhonda, his girlfriend, had not been at the match. That was odd because she always attended his matches that were local. Missing a match wasn’t that big a deal, except it was the latest in a string of concerning developments in their relationship. Ever since he had told her about his being a warlock the previous school year, she was different. She was more distant. His conversations with her frequently felt stunted and formal. Even her kisses were different, as if her heart wasn’t in it. Matthias assumed that she was still acclimating to his revelation to her, which would be totally understandable, but when he questioned her on it, she brushed it aside. In fact, he thought she was taking the whole thing quite well. She was quite curious about him and his friends’ magic. Asking questions about him, he could get. Why was she so eager to hear about Omar, Derek, and Tre?

When he got to the kitchen, Matthias saw that light was coming from underneath the door to the basement. He also thought he could make out a voice coming from within. What was somebody doing down there at that hour? He opened the door and walked down the steps. Derek was standing at the bookstand that held his grimoire. It was open, and he was holding a conversation with somebody on his cell phone. Derek looked to Matthias in acknowledgment before returning to his call.

No, Dad…I just noticed it…Yes, I’m sure I didn’t do anything to it…You sure this ain’t never happen before? Derek listened intently. It’s hard to describe. I’ll take a pic and text it to you. Okay, bye. Derek ended the call.

What was that all about? Matthias wondered.

Derek waved him over. I was lookin’ through the book for this jinx—

Matthias interrupted. What jinx?

To help out my boy Dominque with an ex, Derek answered. Off the stern look that Matthias gave him, Derek said, Don’t give me that look! From what he told me, she deserves it. It’s nothin’ too bad anyway.

Matthias relented. Go on.

I was flipping through the book when I came across this.

Matthias walked around the stand to join Derek on the other side. He looked at the page that the book was open at. On it was a strange-looking symbol. It was four ovals arranged in the form of a cross. Those ovals were encased within a diamond. The symbol took up nearly the entire page.

This looks interesting, Matthias said admiringly. What is it?

Your guess is as good as mine. It wasn’t there before, Derek answered.

You sure?

Yup. I asked Omar and Tre if they knew anything about it, but they said no. You didn’t put it here, did you?

No. I barely touch this thing, said Matthias.

I ain’t think so. I called my dad and asked him about it. He said he didn’t do anything and that somethin’ like this ain’t never happened before, as far as he know.

Matthias stated, Well, it’s clearly a symbol, but I’ve never seen anything like it before to know what it means.

I texted my dad a pic of it. He said that he’d do some digging to see if he could find out.

You think it’s anything bad? Matthias pondered.

After what happened last year, I’m not counting that possibility out. Somebody is messin’ wit’ my grimoire, and I wanna know who and why.

*****

He didn’t know why he chose to come here to study, of all places. This had to be one of the loudest places on campus. Every time he passed through the student center, Omar always saw people studying or doing their work. He never understood how they could concentrate with all that noise, but they somehow pulled it off, so Omar decided to give it a try. Bad idea. This place was a hub for the campus, with seemingly every student passing through here on their respective journeys. It was like a train station, and those were never quiet. Besides the noise, the smells that wafted over from the food court kept beckoning to him.

Hey, man! he heard somebody say from behind. He turned around and saw that it was a classmate from his lab. Omar couldn’t place a name with the face unfortunately.

Hi…

Andrue, the guy said off Omar’s quizzical look.

Yeah, that’s it. From Abnormal Psych, right?

Andrue confirmed that. Yeah. I sit in the back row. Surprised you noticed.

Really? Why?

Andrue said, When I first saw you, I thought you looked familiar but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Then it hit me. You’re Omar Brutton. You’re on the basketball team, right?

Yeah.

I went to all the home games last year. Major fan. You’re amazing! You’re my favorite player on the team, Andrue divulged.

Omar could only appreciate the guy’s enthusiasm. Thanks. It means a lot.

How do you think the team’s gonna do this year? Tourney birth? Andrue asked hopefully.

We tryin’ to win the chip. Why not? Ya gotta believe, am I right?

Hey, it helped Tug McGraw, Andrue agreed. How do you like the lab so far?

Omar nonchalantly shrugged. It’s fine so far. I like the stories that Professor Stokes tells about the illnesses. It’s pretty interesting.

I’m not looking forward to the trips to the clinic.

Surprised, Omar asked, Why not? That’s gonna be the best part. You actually get to see people that have the illness. Up close and personal.

Because that place is haunted!

Omar burst into laughter. Haunted?

I’m dead serious! I looked it up! Meadowood Behavioral Clinic is haunted! There’s tons of stories about weird things happening there. There’s articles about all the instances of people dying, mysteriously disappearing, strange sounds…

Omar reigned in his amusement. It’s a mental health clinic. I think those things come with the territory. Think of the population that lives there.

Then how come there’s not articles about other clinics that have this stuff? I’m telling you, man, something’s off about that place.

Well, even if the place is ‘haunted’, I think we’ll be safe.

Andrue warned, All’s I’m saying is if somebody don’t make it out of there, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

*****

Matthias sat in his seat in stunned disbelief. This couldn’t be. The advisor couldn’t be right. He had to have made a mistake. If he didn’t, that meant that he had made the mistake and that was simply unacceptable.

What do you mean the class doesn’t count? Matthias demanded of the academic advisor.

Oh, the course counts toward your requirements, just as a breadth requirement instead of a multicultural, the advisor clarified.

But I need it to count as a multicultural, not a breadth! said Matthias.

In the face of Matthias’ incredulity, the advisor calmly stated, That’s simply not possible.

Matthias said, But I don’t understand. The course was listed under multicultural. Now you’re telling me that it doesn’t fulfill the requirement? Explain that one to me!

Well, the advisor began, you registered for Contemporary Media, but there are two versions of that course. The one that counts toward your multicultural requirement is the one that is cross-listed with Black and Brown Representation. You didn’t register for that one. You registered for the course that wasn’t cross-listed.

The portal didn’t say anything about any cross-listings! Matthias protested.

The advisor corrected him. You had to click on the link. The one that’s cross-listed is marked.

Matthias just threw up his hands. How was I supposed to know that?

The advisor tried to soothe the frustrated teen. I understand that you’re upset. You’ll just have to take another course.

I can’t. It’s too late. All the other courses that fit into my schedule don’t have any open seats left.

The good thing is that the course still fulfills a breadth requirement. You can fulfill the multicultural in another semester.

Matthias shot that idea down. No! The way my major is set up, I won’t have time to take the multicultural during the spring and fall semesters. I would take a class in the winter or summer, but those classes aren’t offered at those times!

Matt…

I need to take care of this requirement now or…I’m not going to graduate on time, Matthias said, defeated.

The advisor examined the crestfallen student in front of her and reached into a drawer in her desk. She pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Matthias. Do you know what this is?

Matthias took the sheet and examined it. A Course Accreditation Form?

Yes. I’m going to do you a solid, Mr. Johnson. If you can find something in the community that can replace your multicultural requirement, I will create and register a course for it. That’ll fulfill the requirement, the advisor offered.

Buoyed, Matthias inquired, When you say something in the community…

You need to come up with a class replacement. If you can find an activity with an organization that works with or benefits a multicultural and/or diverse population, that can essentially become a class substitute, she explained.

What would that encompass?

The spectrum is wide. As long as it’s a reputable organization and you aren’t being compensated, it’s fair game. You need to register an equivalent amount of credit hours per week, which is only three hours. You need to have a supervisor that can verify the hours and work each week. We vet it to make sure everything is on the up and up.

Matthias nodded his head as he eyeballed his lifeline. I don’t know where I’m going to get it, but at least it’s something. He arose to leave. Thanks, Mrs. Totten.

Of course, my pleasure. We’ll keep in touch.

*****

Matthias walked into the house and slammed the door in frustration. The sharp noise caused Dodger to begin barking from the kitchen.

Who’s that? he heard Derek shout from the living room.

Matthias went to him. It’s me, he said.

Derek was sitting on the couch with his grimoire open and sitting on the table. Matthias found it a bit peculiar that Derek had his book out of the basement.

What’s wrong with you?

Matthias sank into the loveseat. My class schedule.

What’s wrong with your schedule?

I registered for a class that I thought fulfilled my multicultural requirement, but come to find out that it doesn’t. Now I gotta find something in the community that can act as a substitute soon, or I’m not gonna graduate on time!

I don’t follow.

Matthias clarified. The way my major is structured, I won’t have time to take it until after the last semester of my senior year. I can’t take it in the winter or summer because they don’t offer those courses during those semesters.

Oh, I get it now. Man, that’s a tough break. What you gonna do?

Matthias said, I need to hurry up and find something that can count towards a multicultural educational experience. Got any ideas?

Um, not off the top of my head, Derek replied.

Great.

Derek said, Good luck with that. He went back to flipping through his grimoire.

What are you doing? Matthias queried. You don’t normally have your grimoire so out and about.

Derek reached into his pocket. Tryin’ to find out what this is. He pulled forth a silver bracelet that contained an amethyst gemstone embedded in it. He handed it to Matthias.

Where’d you get this? Matthias asked as he inspected it. It felt slightly heavy for a bracelet.

Dodger found it when I took him out for a walk. He seemed spooked when he gave it to me. Gives him the creeps. Must be mystical.

Matthias looked at him skeptically. He really told you all that?

Yeah, telepathically.

Matthias continued to look at him disbelievingly.

What? I told y’all that I can talk to him, clear as day.

Fine. Fine. So have you found anything yet?

No, but this book is really thick. It’s got about six hundred pages. And the pages don’t got numbers, there’s no table of contents, and no index. Derek continued to thumb through the venerable tone, the pages crinkling with dignified age.

Why don’t you just add them? Or better yet, do what I did to my grimoire and make a tablet. I can tell you how to do it. That way you don’t have to thumb through it every time, Matthias suggested.

Derek furrowed his brow in consideration. I never thought of that. I’m leaning towards not, but not eliminating the possibility.

Why not?

Derek shrugged. I don’t know. Just seems weird: putting something as old and valued as this book on a tablet. That, and by keeping the contents of the book inside the book only, the knowledge is protected better. The book protects itself, remember? That protection wouldn’t extend to the tablet. Plus, you got hackers and—

I got it. By the way, my aunt is going to be stopping by in a few days, Matthias announced.

Derek absentmindedly asked, Payin’ you a visit? Wanna see the house?

No. Well yes, but that’s not her primary objective. She wants to install a security system, he said.

Install a security system? She work for ADT or somethin’? Derek asked, puzzled.

Matthias smirked. No. It’s a magical security system. That’s what she calls it anyway. Really, it’s just a series of protection charms and wards placed around the house.

Oh, Derek said as he went back to his grimoire. That’s a good idea. Do you know how effective it is?

My aunt Mary is pretty good at wards. It’s kind of her specialty. She’s cast her spells on all of our houses and we haven’t had any problems yet. Well, other than maintenance issues. But no break-ins or attacks or anything like that.

That should be good. After last year, we can’t be too careful, said Derek.

Matthias replied, I thought the same thing when she brought it up.

Suddenly Derek visibly perked up. This is it! he said, poking the page he was on.

Matthias moved over to the couch and sat beside Derek. On the left page was a drawing of the bracelet. The right page contained information on it.

Shambars

Amulets that bestow or suppress the power of transmogrification. The metal that the amulet is composed of determines its purpose. Shambars made of gold give supernatural beings the ability to change their physical form to another species. Many wickons use these to morph into various animals.

Shambars made of silver have the opposite effect: they prevent transformations. Some wickons use these to counteract curses, but they are most commonly used by various branches of the skinwalker family, especially lycans, to suppress uncontrollable and undesired transformations.

The two warlocks looked at each other with apprehension.

Lycans? Like werewolves?

*****

Quan could hear the person approaching the house before he even reached the door. Super-hearing would do that for you. He sped toward the door to greet the newcomer. Just before he opened it, he morphed into his human face from his vamp face. While they were in the fraternity house, the nest of vampires that lived there lived in their natural physical state, which included a face that featured a heavily pronounced V-shaped brow ridge, flared nostrils, pointed ears, and red eyes. He opened the door just before the guy had the chance to knock on the door. His fist was left suspended in the air in surprise.

Can I help you?

Tre’Vell, only momentarily taken aback, lowered his fist. Yeah. Can I talk to Deandre?

Quan inspected the intruder. Who wants him?

Just tell him Tre’s been asking for him.

Once Tre’Vell mentioned his name, the light bulb went off for Quan. This was the guy who kept calling for Deandre. He’s not here right now, but I’ll give him the message.

That set Tre’Vell off, but he reigned in his indignation. Will you? ’Cuz I been callin’ and every time, somebody say that he ain’t here and they’ll give him my message. If y’all gave him my message, how come he ain’t called me back yet?

I don’t know. I can ask him for you whenever he gets back, Quan said, trying to expedite Tre’Vell’s visit.

Look, can you just please make sure that he gets in contact with me. It’s real important.

Quan stared down Tre’Vell. Sure, boss. I can do that for you.

Yeah? Well, you do that.

Quan watched Tre’Vell walk away before closing the door. He then walked in on Mark, his sire, listening to something on his headphones.

Who was that? Mark asked of him.

Some guy named Tre’Vell that’s been looking for Deandre, Quan answered.

That the same guy that’s been calling for him? asked Mark.

Quan nodded in the affirmative.

Damn. He certainly is a persistent one.

Who’s persistent? Deandre asked from the other doorway.

Just waking up? Quan asked Deandre.

Deandre replied, Yeah. Who’s persistent?

Mark revealed, Somebody who’s been looking for you.

Been looking for me? For how long?

Quan looked at Mark for permission, which he received with a slight nod of the head, before answering, A couple months now.

And you didn’t tell me? Deandre demanded.

Mark stepped in. Yes. On my orders. It’s like what I told you when you were sired: you should have no contact with individuals from your previous life.

And why is that again?

Mark said, Because they can cause conflicts within your being. Especially at your young age. Your vampire self is still in the process of shedding your human residue. Engaging with this guy could complicate that process.

Even so, you still could have at least told me, Deandre challenged.

I figured that what you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you. You couldn’t speak with the guy anyway. What would it matter if you knew he was searching out for you? Mark reasoned.

When I was born, you said I was family.

You are.

Families don’t keep secrets from each other.

Yes, they do. It all comes down to which secrets you keep and for what reason. I had a good reason, Mark argued.

Deandre said, This may be a family, but I’m not a part of it. Not all the way.

Quan jumped in. What are you talking about? Of course, you are. Don’t be stupid.

Y’all keep secrets from me, I’m cooped up in this house during the day, and you won’t let me hunt! Deandre complained, rattling off his list of grievances.

Mark calmly explained to Deandre as if he were a little child, One, I already addressed the first issue. Two, you stay in the house the most because we don’t have a daylight amulet for you. The witch that made them for us is dead, so by seniority, the others get first dibs on the remaining ones. That was already explained to you. And three, you can’t go hunt because it’s too dangerous.

I can handle myself, Deandre argued.

Not on a hunt. You can’t do that until you master your hypnosis. It’s too dangerous otherwise. Or do I have to remind you of the pizza guy?

Deandre winced at the memory. A few weeks ago he had been hungry and in the mood for something fresh. He saw the opportunity to sate his hunger and practice his hypnosis when he noticed a pizza delivery guy outside. When he finished delivering his pizza, Deandre snuck up behind him. When Deandre attempted to hypnotize him into coming into their home, the hypnosis wore off before he could make it inside. The delivery guy began to struggle with Deandre and call out for help. It was a good thing that Demeco happened to be on his way home and got there just in time to jump in and save him. He hypnotized the delivery guy and all the people that could have heard the struggle.

That was a few weeks ago. I been practicing since then. Give me a chance! Deandre pleaded.

Mark appraised him. This is really important to you, isn’t it?

Deandre nodded his head.

All right, I’ll compromise. You can go on a hunt…as long as Kevin goes with you.

What? Kevin go with me? Hell no.

He will go as backup, just in case. You can do it on your own, but I want him there to step in if need be, said Mark.

I don’t need his backup. I’m telling you, I can do it on my own.

Mark stated, It’s either that, or no dice.

Deandre could see when he was being stonewalled. Fine. As long as he hangs back and lets me do it, I guess that won’t be so bad.

*****

The wind whipped Monica’s hair back and forth as she and Derek cruised down the highway toward their destination. When she had asked Derek if he wanted to go to Six Flags, Derek had jumped at the chance. She loved roller coasters. She was unsurprised when Derek asked if she could drive them. She suspected that it hurt Derek’s pride to ask that of her, but she honestly didn’t mind. She was the one who asked him to go after all. Besides that, she knew that Derek didn’t have a car.

You never answered my question, Derek said to her over the roaring sound of the wind rushing past the windows.

What was that?

Which ride do you wanna get on first? he reasked.

Monica thought about it. We can get Kingda Ka out of the way early. Maybe there won’t be as long of a line.

Derek agreed. That’s a good idea. Work our way around.

Monica asked, Glad you agree.

Great minds think alike, Derek said.

Monica smiled.

Derek continued with, So what made you ask me to Six Flags?

You seemed like somebody who liked to ride coasters. A bit of an adrenaline junkie, what with you playing football and all. If I’m going to Six Flags, I want somebody that’ll keep up with me, Monica responded.

Derek pressed. But there’s lots of people you could’ve asked. You said your job gave you two tickets. Why you ask me? Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful.

All right. I confess. I actually asked a bunch of other people before you, but they all declined. You were my last resort, she joked, feigning disappointment.

Derek wasn’t buying it. If I still had self-confidence issues, I might believe that.

Somehow, I can’t imagine you ever having had self-confidence issues, she commented.

If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you wanted to get me alone, Derek said. Maybe was feelin’ me a little bit.

Monica scoffed. Good thing you know better then.

After all that flirtin’ last year? The summer? I wasn’t imagining all that. I’m pretty good at recognizing those things.

Monica plowed forward, unflinching. Harmless fun you have with friends all the time.

Come on! You tryin’ to tell me that there’s no curiosity at all? Derek prodded.

Said Monica, I don’t believe I said that either.

Derek smiled to himself. That was at least an opening. I’ll accept that answer. That’s how it starts. A seed of curiosity leads to a sprout of interest and blossoms into a flower of affection.

That sounds astoundingly deep. It can’t have come from you. A fortune cookie, perhaps, Monica jested.

Derek acted insulted. I am shocked and appalled that you think that lowly of my intellect. I’ll have you know I was an honors student in high school and currently rockin’ above a 3.0 GPA.

Still, no one’s gonna confuse you with Neil deGrasse Tyson.

Shit! Neil deGrasse Tyson’s got nothin’ on me, Derek boasted.

Monica asked, Does your family have a history of mental illness?

Taken aback by the seemingly abrupt change of topic, Derek said, No. Why?

Because delusions of grandeur are a sure sign of schizophrenia. I learned that in class.

Derek waved her off. When I make you my girl, you won’t be sayin’ stuff like that. Just gotta be patient.

Monica rolled her eyes, and they lapsed into a comfortable silence.

*****

Matthias was quietly studying in his room when he heard the door open and shut downstairs. Thinking nothing of it, he continued to pour over his notes and textbook. He was so engrossed in his material that he was caught completely by surprise when his little cousin, Bryant, shifted through his door and into his room.

Hi, Matt! Bryant announced upon entering his cousin’s room.

Matthias jumped at the sudden interruption, his concentration snapped like a twig. Bryant! How many times do I have to tell you about shifting into my room?

You never said anything about that, Bryant protested.

Yes, I have. Multiple times!

Bryant countered, No, you told me to use the door. I did. I came in through the door.

Matthias glared at his cousin for his play on words. Bryant had a way of doing that. He was quite resourceful in that way, he had to admit.

That wasn’t what I meant, and you know it!

Dad told me once that a man should say what he means and mean what he say, Bryant said snootily.

Whatever. I take your presence to mean that Aunt Mary is here for the security system?

Yup. She downstairs with your friend Omar, Bryant replied.

Matthias got up from his books. Okay. Let’s go. And open the door this time!

*****

Omar was downstairs, listening with rapt attention as Matthias’s aunt went over all of the spells that she would be performing to protect their house. Some of them were pretty complex spells. She must have been a very experienced witch.

And this one is probably the most important one of all. And also the hardest to do, Aunt Mary said.

Omar read the paper the spell was written on. A Syndegaard Shield?

Uh-huh. It took me a while to perfect this one, let me tell you.

What’s it do?

Well, if I do it correctly, it’ll erect an invisible barrier around the inhabitants of a house while they’re in it, Mary answered.

Omar questioned, What makes it so hard to do?

A Syndegaard Shield protects against magical attacks that assault you physically. Magical attacks are harder to guard against. Plus, the more people that a shield must protect, the more energy and power on my end it takes to make an adequate one. For example, if only one or two people live in the house, it’s easier for me to make a strong shield than it would be for four or five, Mary explained.

Why not just make it so the shield is for Matt? Omar wondered as he saw Matthias and Bryant make their way downstairs and join them in the dining room.

I can’t in good conscience just protect Matt! That wouldn’t be right. I know he’s my nephew, but still. No, I’m protecting all four of you.

Omar smiled. That’s what’s up.

Mary began to unpack her spell ingredients.

If you don’t mind me askin’, what’s your power? Mines is pyrokinesis.

Matthias told Omar, She doesn’t have an active power. She’s a Level 1.

Mary piggybacked off that thought. Right. My brother got the power. I just do spells. That’s why I practiced so hard to perfect my spellcasting. I got most charms and jinxes down pat. There’s even some hexes that I can do. Isaac can’t do that. Not bad for a Level 1, huh?

Matthias smiled at that. His dad and aunt were constantly going back and forth about that. It’s not a competition.

Mary disagreed. Whatever he can do spell wise, I have to be able to top it. It’s only fair.

Omar chuckled. It sounds like children trying to one up each other.

All four of them laughed at the image of two adults bickering over that like children. Matthias then stumbled onto a thought.

Children…, he whispered.

What?

Children! Matthias said, expecting that to be a sufficient explanation.

I don’t get it.

Matthias turned to Bryant. You know that community center you used to go to?

Bryant said, What? Rosebud?

Yeah, that’s it.

What about it?

Matthias inquired, What race was most of the kids there?

Bryant pondered the inquiry. Black and Spanish, I guess. Why?

That’s perfect!

Bryant continued to be lost. What’s perfect?

Matthias answered, mostly talking to himself, That can take care of my multicultural requirement! I’ll volunteer there a couple days a week.

Bryant said, You wanna be a counselor for the ghetto kids at Rosebud? Why?

I need it for a school requirement for graduation.

Mary contemplated that. Huh, I never took you for the counselor type. That might be a challenge.

Matthias wondered, It’s just hanging out with a couple kids for a few hours. How hard can it be?

Bryant snickered. You’ll see. There’s a reason why I stopped going.

DEANDRE

Derek heard a knock on his door. It’s me, he heard Tre’Vell say from the other side. He opened it.

What’s up?

Tre’Vell let out a huff. It pains me to say this, but I need your help.

Derek asked, For what?

Tre’Vell walked past Derek and into his bedroom, collecting his thoughts. You remember my boy, Deandre.

Derek slowly shook his head. Nah, not really.

He came wit’ us to the concert? Tre’Vell mentioned, hoping to jog his memory.

It seemed to help. Oh, yeah. Faintly. What about him?

I ain’t been able to get in contact with him in a while. Months. He joined this fraternity, and ever since then, it’s been nothin’, Tre’Vell said.

What fraternity is it?

I think it’s called Alpha Xi Omicron, said Tre’Vell.

Derek said, You don’t think nothin’ happened to him, do you?

Tre’Vell said, I don’t know what to think. I do know that I don’t believe a word anybody in that fraternity tells me. Every time I call the frat house, somebody is always tellin’ me that he out but they’ll give him my message. I still ain’t got a return call, and that’s not like him.

Hmmm. You try a Locator spell? Derek suggested.

Me and Omar have a few times. But each time it finds him, I go to the spot but he gone by time I get there, Tre’Vell explained.

So you want me to teleport us there?

That’s a good idea that I actually ain’t think of…

Derek wondered, Then why you need my help again?

Tre’Vell said, I actually was wonderin’ if you could come wit’ me to the frat house and see if you could read they minds. See what they know.

Oh, I can do that too.

Really? Just like that? Tre’Vell said skeptically.

Derek tossed on a T-shirt over his undershirt. Just like that. Come on.