Spellbound

Chapter One

The memory remained a tricky thing, utterly dependent on a person's perspective. People often fill the voids in recollection with their interpretation or remember the past the way it suits them. For Kennedy, memories felt confusing, and often she had trouble recognizing what stood real and what was a lie.

She sat on the bed, her sketchbook in front of her. "Reminiscor," she whispered, playing with the pencil between her fingers and holding a water bottle in her other hand.

The ringing in her ears felt stronger this time. She winced but remained focused on the drawing which lay on her bed. Kennedy used the memory spell too often for the last two days. It seemed worth it though, as she wanted to draw the box as close to the original as possible. Since Hayden was the only thing on her mind for the last two months, Kennedy wasn't thinking about herself.

"Shit," she cursed, as Hayden's image seemed clearer in her mind than the box itself.

Kennedy lifted the sketch and decided it will have to be enough. Besides, she felt unsure if she would even need the drawing. Coven rules stated every significant magical relic had to remain in the bunker. Kennedy gripped the golden necklace. They did not store it in the bunker, which might be because of the lower classification of the artifact. Or maybe, for some other reason, Helena kept it in her mansion.

Kennedy's phone rang, but she ignored the signal. She's been ignoring her mother's phone calls since she got back to Alaska. It was the third one; she knew soon she would have to pick up and once more lie to her mom. Silence filled the room as the phone melody stopped. Kennedy picked up her phone from the bed, remembering she needed to make the phone call about cabin rent again.

"Miss More," the man spoke in a chipper voice.

"Call me Sara, please," Kennedy adjusted her tone. "I'm calling about keys to the cabin. You didn't pick up my call earlier," she explained.

"Sorry for that," the man said with a slight cough. "My boss is not cooperating today at all, so I had to take a brief trip out of town."

"Is that how you do business around here?"

"Usually, no." The man's tone softened. "I can't give you keys at the time we agreed, but I can tell you where the spare one is, and we can talk more on Sunday," he suggested to Kennedy.

"That would be great, considering other people are on their way to the place, and I can't cancel at this point," Kennedy agreed.

"Yes, I understand, and I apologize for any disruption this might cause for you, Sara," he pleaded.

"So, the key?" She perceived his answer, but for the sake of appearance, asked, anyway.

"It's under the roof, on the beam." He painted her a picture of the location of the key. Kennedy tuned him out for a moment and noticed it was time to leave her hotel room. "You can call me if you have trouble finding it," he finished his talk.

"Sure I will," she answered, knowing well that won't be necessary. "Have a good day."

"You too, Miss More." He hung up the phone.

Kennedy tossed the last unpacked items from the bed and zipped her luggage. The paper left a minor cut as she folded the drawing, tucking it into her pants pocket. Knowing the guys very well, she did some food shopping in the morning, so part of her luggage was already in the car.

Glancing through the room one more time, she left the suit with all her remaining possessions. The elevator ride felt uncomfortable as an old lady in her seventies eyed Kennedy for no apparent reason. She scanned her image in the mirror just before leaving the stuffy space.