The Compelled (Page 8)

“You just asked the mil ion-pound question,” Cora said, shrugging her shoulders.

Before I could further explain, a rat came out of its hiding spot. I reached for a stone, ready to attack. But Mary Jane held up a hand.

“I’ve got it,” she said, placing her fingers on the floor.

“Shh! Come here, love,” she cooed at the animal. The rat halted and cocked its head at her. “Right here,” Mary Jane urged. Quickly, the rat ran into her palm and stood on its hind legs. She raised her eyebrows at us and smiled crookedly. “See, they’re not so bad.”

“How did you learn to do that?” I asked.

Mary Jane shrugged. “I didn’t learn. I was born like this,” she explained.

“And your parents…?”

“Are dead,” she said flatly.

“I’m sorry,” Cora and I said in unison.

A flicker of a smile crossed Mary Jane’s face. “Or they might as wel be. They might be alive somewhere, but I don’t rightly know. I don’t know anything about my parents. I only know that I’ve always had a sense about people, and animals, and can sometimes have them do what I want.”

“Do you think you can help us?” I asked eagerly. My stomach rumbled, and I had to turn away to avoid automatical y reaching out and kil ing the rodent cupped in Mary Jane’s hands.

“I could try. I’ve never real y used my spel s on vampires before,” Mary Jane said uncertainly. “I’ve never used them for anything important. Just for little things. To make the rent col ector go away, or to get a rat to do tricks like this. But I don’t know if I’m strong enough to defeat a vampire.

Unless…I have friends who could help,” she finished, letting the rat free. It squeaked, then skittered away into the shadows. “Only I’m not sure they’l like you. We keep to ourselves, mainly. But I’l tel them you saved me. I can’t say whether that’l sway them, seeing as you kil our kind, but I can take you to them.”

“That would be very kind,” I said. “Are your friends like you?”

“You mean, are they witches?” Mary Jane asked matter-of-factly. “Why, I suppose so. Although I don’t know what makes a witch a witch. But I do know we al have magical powers,” Mary Jane said, giving me a lopsided smile. I smiled back encouragingly.

“How many?” Cora breathed.

“Not many. There’s just five of us. Me, Bil y, Gus, and Vivian. And Jemima of course, but she’s…”

“She’s what?” I asked.

“She’s the one who might not like you,” Mary Jane said.

“She doesn’t trust others. But when I tel her that you saved my life, she might reconsider.”

“But the rest of them?” I asked.

A fond smile crossed Mary Jane’s face. “They’re lovely.

They’re my family, real y. I never had a proper one. When I was twelve, I thought I’d be adopted. I used to dream about what it’d be like to have a mother, a home, and a bed with a feather mattress…” Mary Jane shook her head and set her mouth in a firm line. “That didn’t come true. But I got something better. I got people who’d never let me down.” I nodded. I had so many questions and scarcely knew where to begin. A memory from years before flashed through my mind. I’d been sitting on a rock in the middle of the forest on the edge of Mystic Fal s, listening to Katherine explain how she’d turned others into vampires like her. But witches were different. They didn’t become witches—they were born witches. The craft was in their blood.

“How did you find the others?” Cora asked softly. Her knees were pul ed close to her chest, and she looked like a child being told a bedtime story.

“Wel , once you know what you’re looking for, you start to notice things,” Mary Jane explained. “Jemima and I found each other first. We were in the same orphanage together, and as soon as she came in, I realized she was special.

She could fix things. Her chores would magical y get done while she was up in bed sleeping. Or she’d accidental y spil ink on a book, and seconds later, it would look good as new. I final y got the courage to ask her about it, and then we started working on spel s together.”

Hope flickered in me. It sounded like Mary Jane and Jemima were both very powerful. If so, then maybe we real y did have a chance of defeating Samuel. Although he was strong, magic overrode al other Powers. We had to do anything we could to get Jemima to agree to help us.

“What about the others?” Cora asked.

Mary Jane wrinkled her forehead. “Wel , I saw Vivian making a concoction with some leftover whiskey at a tavern where she was a scul ery maid. Gus was a paperboy who Jemima saw talking to sparrows in his spare time. And we found Bil y putting a spel on a rol he was eating outside a bakery. Before he took the last bite, he conjured up four more fresh ones.” Mary Jane smiled.

“It wil be a pleasure to meet them,” I said. A witch, a human, and a vampire, teaming up to fight evil. It sounded like the premise of a penny-paper serial. But thanks to the monster who was plotting our deaths, this was our lives.

4

The next day, Cora and I fol owed Mary Jane to the home she shared with the orphans. The foggy, gray morning matched my mood. What if Mary Jane’s friends wouldn’t help? Or what if it was too late to save Damon? Out of the tunnel, I could see the dark circles under Mary Jane’s eyes, the frayed hem of her faded brown dress. She looked every inch the orphan she was. No matter how hard I tried to push it out of my mind, I kept wondering: If she was so powerful, why wasn’t she able to rise in society? Why were she and her witch friends living in a slum at al ? Damon would have asked. But I didn’t. Because why did it matter? The point was, she was al we had.