Warning: Most of this was done on my phone. Any errors will be fixed when possible.

Enjoy.

--

After finding out about my mother's secret, we decided that all plans for digging to find important stuff in the house could wait. We would leave everything back at the house; it was abandoned it seemed.

We went back to the hotel to repack our suitcases, and Jackson and I did so in silence. We really didn't feel like talking at the moment, so we stuck to our own thoughts. I wondered if Jackson's mind was racing with different thoughts, images, or suspicions like mine was.

Why would Mom not tell me this? Lucy is actually my cousin, not Ken's. All this time, my best friend was my cousin and my aunt was her mother. Lucy's mother had never dropped hints about this fact, nor had her father.

A cold chill suddenly spread through me and I stopped folding a pair of jeans. Lucy's parents never mentioned it, my parents never mentioned it.. So how is it that the two raging sides of this long battle never missed a step and let it slip by accident?

Something wasn't right about this. Well, besides the fact that Lucy's mother and my mother are sisters.. But something else. Something deeper, more dangerous is going on in this rivalry.

I wanted answers, which wasn't anything knew anymore. It's all I want anymore.

"You alright?" Jackson's concerned voice snapped me from my thoughts.

I swivel my head towards him, biting my lip. "Jackson, there's something really wrong with this whole situation."

He cracked a smile. "Which part?"

I nudge him. "Seriously. There's something not adding up to this. It's as though we were.. I don't know, meant to find those papers. Something is telling me that there's more to the story."

Jackson studies my face, frowning deeply as though he were checking to make sure I was the actual Faye. Then he said, "I feel it too. We'll figure it out, Faye, I promise."

I kept my eyes strained on the jeans now, my lips pursing into a tight, thin line. I continued folding them and set them nearly inside the suitcase. "I don't think we will, Jackson. Not easily anyways."

Jackson sighed and ran a hand through his hair, making it more messy than usual, which made him look cute. "I hate this."

"Hate what?" I look up, my attention on him now.

"The fact that you have to have all this weight on your shoulders. No matter what it is, there's something that involves you, someone wants to kill you, something tips you off.." He trailed off, sighing. "I just can't stand the fact that you're in danger."

"You think this has something to do with me?"

"Yes," he admitted, shrugging and clenching his jaw. "Because you're powerful. The magic inside you is dormant, sleeping."

"Dormant?"

"At ease, sleeping almost-"

"I know.. But what do you mean by dormant?"

"The magic in you hasn't been used to its full extant. Sure, it's been used. But not enough to make its true power reveal itself. It's a strong magic, I can sense it miles away."

"What happens when it becomes active?" I asked quietly, hoping for a positive answer.

He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. "You'll make a very dangerous enemy," he responded, moving closer to me.

"How do you know?" I ask, leaning against his touch contently.

"Witches and warlocks can sense magic in a person like Riders can," he tells me, tracing a thumb down my jawline gently. "If it's dormant, we feel a fuzzy like feeling. Kind of like a TV static buzz, it's deeply down. Not activated."

I nod, loving the feel of his thumb across my jaw. I smiled a bit at it. "And when it's activated?"

"A rush of warm energy. It's almost like a drug you get high on, or a drink you get drunk off. It's addicting, dulls the senses. Some are more so then others, depending on the amount of magic they have in their body, so one with less magic has less affect then one with high amounts," he explained in a murmur, his thumb continuing its path around my jawline softly.

"And mines dormant?" I reply, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath and blowing it out.

"Yes," he said. "But it's not fuzzy, not even close. Yours radiates that drunk feeling stronger than I've ever felt, it makes my knees weak."

"How do my family and friends hold themselves together?" I frown.

"It's not an attraction exactly," he replied, shaking his head. "It's..family members feel it, but instead of being attracted the way I am, they feel a pull of a different kind. They feel.. They feel the need to acknowledge your power."

I frown deeply, opening my eyes again and saying, "But my family and friends-"

"They don't have that need because you're dormant," he said, shaking his head. "They feel a slight tug but not the pull. Often times, magic that's dormant doesn't have the tugging sensation."

"How do you know about all this?" I ask curiously, tilting my head to the side and gazing at him.

"Your parents talked to me about magic and I've read some things," he told me. "They said that magic like yours hasn't been around since Cain Foreigner. He was the only recorded one to have magic that powerful."

"So when it becomes active, the other riders will want to follow me..?" I wonder out loud. "Because they followed Cain."

"Yes and no. You'll be very powerful once that magic awakens, so powerful you would have the ability to take over the Council. Dragons would feel a strong pull to you, and many Riders would see you sort of as a leader."

"So this tug," I say slowly, my mind beginning to work overtime with thoughts and questions, "makes other Riders see me as a leader figure?"

He nods, pulling us onto the bed as we talked. "Yes. When the magic awakens, it'll be like.. Like a radio satellite in a way. It'll send waves out to let people know how powerful it is, how dominant it is."

"It's almost like a living thing," I murmured, fiddling with my ring.

"In a way, it sort of is. Magic can't be controlled completely. It can be kept at bay, handled, but not controlled. It's a force that has a mind of its own, in a way."

I fall into silence as I take in all this information, gazing out the window with a frown on my lips. I continued fiddling with my ring, humming a song stuck in my head.

"Hey Jackson?" I asked, finally turning back to face him again.

He looked up; he had finished packing for the both of us. "Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."