Veiled spirits, p.1
Veiled Spirits, page 1
VEILED SPIRITS
HAUNTED MAGIC
BOOK ONE
E. L. FINLEY
FOXTROT WRITING
Copyright © 2024 by E. L. Finley
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Published by Foxtrot Writing LLC
Cover art and design by Silviya Andreeva of Dark Imaginarium Art
Editing by Raven Quill Editing
Proofreading by Autumn Reed
Created with Vellum
To all of you who never felt like you fit in anywhere.
It wasn’t you.
You just hadn’t found your place or people yet.
CONTENTS
Introduction
Veiled Spirits Playlist
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
About the Author
Also by E. L. Finley
INTRODUCTION
This book contains mentions of sexual assault, attempted sexual assault on page, death of a loved one, strong language, mature content, and violence. Please read at your own discretion.
VEILED SPIRITS PLAYLIST
Tis the Damn Season - Taylor Swift
We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together - Taylor Swift
Dying For - Rain City Drive
Making the Bed - Olivia Rodrigo
Happier - Marshmello and Bastille
Shake It Out - Florence + The Machine
Hits Different - Taylor Swift
Half of Forever - Henrik
You Belong With Me - Taylor Swift
Gasoline - Nic D and Connor Price
Just Pretend - Bad Omens
Aerials - System of a Down
Numb Little Bug - Em Beihold
Granite - Sleep Token
The Albatross - Taylor Swift
CHAPTER 1
IZZY
Pushing out of the classroom, I walk toward the front of the Gallagher building, where I have most of my Hawthorne Grove University classes.
I glance down at my homework for the evening, startled when a hard shove to my back sends me flying. All the books and papers I’m holding soar through the air.
“Defensare,” I whisper under my breath. One of the perks of being a mage is that I’m able to shape the raw magical energy that powers our planet to my will. In this case, I quickly form it into a barely there shield that flickers into place underneath my knees. It saves them from the worst of the fall.
As soon as my knees hit the dingy beige tiles with a loud thud, I let go of my shield. My knees throb where they connect with the ground. Tears prick my eyes at the flash of pain, but I’m able to battle them back for now.
My golden-blonde, wavy hair falls like a curtain in front of my face. I gaze at the purple and blue ends of my shoulder-blade-length hair to distract myself from Danielle Fletcher and her clones.
Danielle is Hawthorne Grove’s resident mean girl and the bane of my existence. Making my life hell seems to be her favorite pastime. She should really try getting a normal hobby, like knitting or jumping off a cliff.
Hawthorne Grove is a small town in New England. It has lush, tree-lined streets, historic architecture, and a main street that’s so cute it makes me sick. Hawthorne Grove is also a short distance from the frigid waters of the Atlantic. The only thing that makes Hawthorne Grove stand out from other small towns around here is that it’s populated with mages, instead of normal humans, unfortunately for me.
“Watch where you’re going, vilis.” Danielle sneers at me, flipping her stick-straight platinum-blonde hair over her shoulder. She narrows her dull brown eyes at me when I glance up through my lashes.
Wow. How original. Calling me the mage slur for magicless, vilis. I haven’t had someone remind me that they think I don’t have magic in a whole five minutes. If she’s going to insist on tormenting me, the least Danielle could do is come up with creative insults.
For some reason, mages feel the need to use Latin for everything. Insults, spells, swearing—you name it—mages have a Latin word for it. At least Latin words for spells make sense because it helps focus magic. Most mages don’t have enough control over their magic to cast without a focus word.
“No one wants you here,” Madison Redman informs me in a shrill voice. She’s wearing the same country club housewife outfit as Danielle and Tina Ward. Only, her button-down and matching skirt are pink. Danielle’s are yellow, and Tina’s are powder blue. “Why don’t you just leave?”
Oh, trust me, I would if I could.
If I don’t finish school, the mage council will hunt me down and drag me in for testing. That’s just about the last thing I want.
The mage council is the governing body for all mages. They make the laws, enforce rules, prosecute offenders, and execute those convicted of the most serious crimes. Having one group of old guys acting as judge, jury, and executioner ends up being pretty corrupt. Shocker.
Hawthorne Grove is the council seat for the mage council of North America. I’m counting down until I can leave here and never see the council or the mages of this town again. I only have one more year of this hell left. One hundred and forty-six more days. I can totally do this.
Maybe if I keep telling myself that, I’ll start to believe it.
“You’re such an embarrassment to your family. They’d be better off without you,” Tina adds. With brown hair, lightly tanned skin, and deep brown eyes, Tina could be pretty. That is, if you ignore all the ugliness on the inside.
Tina’s dig is the only one that lands. My family isn’t embarrassed of me in the slightest. They couldn’t care less that the town thinks I don’t have magic. But she’s right about my family being better off without me. I put them all in danger just by existing.
The hot tears I’ve been trying to contain finally leak out of my eyes and cascade down my pale cheeks at her barb. As the silent tears splash onto my ripped jeans, I curse the fact that I cry at everything. Happy, sad, angry, frustrated, you name it, and I cry because I feel it.
I hate it.
It’s hard to be a badass when I cry at literally everything. I don’t bother wiping up the tears, because I don’t want to clue Danielle and her minions in that I’m leaking. Hopefully they’ll get tired of this soon and leave. Lord knows I’m fucking tired of dealing with it every day.
My magic stirs in my chest at my strong emotions. It crackles in agitation behind my breastbone. Unlike what everyone in Hawthorne Grove thinks, I do have magic. Enough magic to level this and surrounding towns without breaking a sweat.
But I can’t tell anyone that. It’s bad enough my family knows.
Danielle huffs at my lack of response. “Accendere,” she says, pointing at my books and papers. They light on fire with a whoosh. With a cackling laugh, Danielle and her groupies stride away, ridiculously high heels clacking on the tile.
Sighing, I mutter, “Restinguere.”
The fire instantly goes out. My books and papers are perfectly fine. I learned a long time ago to spell all of my belongings to protect them. A simple defensive spell on everything keeps the worst of the attacks from destroying my stuff.
The assholes here love to fuck with me. I get away with magically protecting my things because people think my brothers do it for me. They still enjoy lighting my stuff on fire, dumping water on it, or covering it in caustic goo.
It’s super fun when people mess with my stuff while others watch. I totally love having to deal with their magical attacks without any magic. All while the peanut gallery laughs at my struggles.
I fucking hate this town.
“You need help?” a deep voice asks from behind me. My shoulders sag in relief that it’s not one of my other main tormentors, Mason, Richard, or last year’s new addition, Tyler. It’s just Levi, my combat teacher. He’s one of the only people in this hellhole who is actually kind to me.
“Yeah, that’d be good. Thanks.” My voice is rough from crying, but Levi doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he just walks around in front of me and kneels down, uncaring about getting his dark-wash jeans dirty. We work in silence to pick up all my papers and books.
Once we have everything gathered, Levi unzips my backpack and puts his stack inside. I follow suit. As I’m zipping up the backpack, he pushes to his feet. He doesn’t offer me help up, but that’s not unusual for him. Levi always makes sure not to touch me anywhere, skin on skin. It’s a little weir
My worn white Chucks squeak on the tiles as I stand. When I’m steady, I crane my neck up and up to meet Levi’s gaze. He is probably the tallest person I know, clocking in at around six-and-a-half feet tall. When my eyes finally land on his face, I meet his otherworldly eyes. They’re obsidian, with a thin red ring around the pupil.
“Was it Danielle, Tina, and Madison who did this?” he rumbles. I look away and press my lips into a thin line, refusing to tell him. Levi sighs. “I’ll report them if you’d just confirm who it is and what they do.”
I scoff. “You and I both know this school won’t do jack shit about it, Levi. Reporting them will just make my life harder.” Since I supposedly don’t have magic, Hawthorne Grove University doesn’t particularly care what happens to me. Bullying, insults, and attacks are all fine and dandy with the administration, as long as it’s only lower mages or me subject to it.
Mage society is separated into higher and lower mages. Higher mages are the ones with money, power, status, and clout in the community. They have access to the best jobs, preferential legal treatment, and make the decisions for mages as a whole. They’re also incredibly snobby and stuck-up, thinking their family name makes them better than everyone else.
Lower mages, on the other hand, are the everyday mages. They don’t come from prestigious mage lines or hold high mage offices. Instead, they’re just regular people who happen to have the ability to harness raw magical energy.
Because the council is located in Hawthorne Grove, there are way more higher mages here than other mage cities. Here, the lower mages are treated particularly badly. Since everyone thinks I’m magicless, I’m automatically lumped in with the lower mages.
Levi shakes his head at me, resigned to the way things are but not liking it any more than I do. “The option is always open if you change your mind.”
“I appreciate it. I better get going,” I tell him reluctantly. While I hate spending time at HGU, I do weirdly enjoy hanging out with him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gives me a crooked grin before walking off.
“See you then,” I whisper to his retreating back.
Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I make my way to the front of the school. I push open the heavy front doors and step out into the blinding sunlight. It’s so bright, I have to squint and blink my eyes for a few seconds.
When I can finally fully open my eyes, I start the trek home. Keeping up appearances that I don’t have magic means I can’t just portal to my house. Instead, I have to do it the old-fashioned way—walking. That’s one thing I don’t mind, though. Hawthorne Grove is full of forests, shrubs, flowers, animals, and more to keep me entertained on the fifteen-minute trip.
Halfway home, I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. My lips tip up into a small smile, already knowing who it is. Pulling out my phone, I glance at the screen.
Bishop
Wanna go to the Poisoned Vine 2nite?
Bishop is my best friend in this shithole town, and he enjoys beating things up, just like I do. The Poisoned Vine is our favorite MMA gym. It’s a few towns over, so I get a break from Hawthorne Grove for a little while.
Hell yeah, I do. What kinda question is that?
Bishop
I’ll pick you up in 30 mins.
K
I walk the rest of the way home with a goofy smile on my face. While my day has sucked, at least I’ll get to hit things tonight.
CHAPTER 2
IZZY
“You look like shit, kid,” Agatha, or Aggie, as I call her, informs me as I push open the door to my room. I live with my parents and two older brothers, so my room is really the only place I have to myself.
Aggie’s spectral form hovers over my bed. She has her legs crossed and her petticoats primly arranged around her lap. While she was only a few years older than me when she died, Aggie insists on calling me kid. It drives me crazy, which is probably why she does it.
“Thanks. You always say the nicest things to me, Aggie,” I deadpan. The ghost just cackles at my sarcasm.
Seeing spirits sounds pretty cool. Until you realize that ghosts are just as much of assholes as the living. Aggie should have crossed over ages ago. But she’s still here, annoying the shit out of me.
She follows me wherever I go, which can make it hard to keep the whole seeing ghosts thing a secret. At least Aggie has been leaving me alone at school recently. That makes it somewhat easier.
Shoving my door closed, I drop my backpack onto the ground near my desk. Walking over to my closet, I warn, “Close your eyes or turn around if you don’t want an eyeful of my boobs.”
Not bothering to check if she listened, I strip out of my violet tee and light-wash jeans. I dig through the dresser in my closet and find a black sports bra. Pulling it out, I put it and my favorite lilac workout leggings on.
I snag a black hoodie I stole from Bishop and pull it over my head. Burying my nose in the soft, worn fabric, I take a deep inhale of Bishop’s rainy forest scent. It always calms me when I’ve had a rough day.
Once I’m finished changing, I grab my guitar and flop onto my fluffy purple comforter. I lie on my back with my legs and socked feet on the lavender wall at the end of my bed. Turning my head, I look out the window over my bed while I softly strum my acoustic guitar.
“What are your plans for the night?” Aggie floats over to my desk as she talks.
“Go to the gym with Bishop, murder a punching bag, and cross over some ghosts,” I say while I stare at the elm trees in my backyard.
“You know, you can take the night off, kid.” When I glance over at Aggie, her forehead is pinched in concern. While she gives me shit on the regular, Aggie also cares about me, in her own way.
“And who’s going to cross them if I don’t?” I ask, already knowing the answer. There’s no one we know of who can do what I do. So, the responsibility falls to me. That’s how I spend most of my nights.
Aggie gives me a sad nod, letting me know she’ll do her part so I can cross those who need it tonight.
I get lost playing my guitar and singing for a while. I’m playing “’Tis the Damn Season” when Aiden, one of my older brothers, comes crashing through my door.
“Lover boy’s here, Iz.” Aiden leans against the door and stares at me for a beat. With the same golden-blond hair and gray eyes, we’re often mistaken for twins. But he’s a good half a foot taller than me and three years older.
Rhys is my other brother. He’s seven years older than me and takes after my dad. Aiden and I both look like our mom, Maggie. With brown hair, hazel eyes, and his six-foot-two height, Rhys is the spitting image of our dad, Sean.
“Why do you always sing such depressing songs?” Aiden whines.
“I don’t!”
“You really do.”
“Fine,” I huff. To prove him wrong, I start belting out “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” as loud as I can. That’ll teach him to criticize my song choice.
“Ah! My ears! They’re bleeding!” Aiden exclaims dramatically. He hates pop music and any popular songs. I roll my eyes at him and keep singing. “Stop! Uncle! I give up! You were right, Izzy!”
I stop singing as soon as he admits I’m right. Grinning at him from my spot on the bed, I savor my victory over my annoying older brother.
“You’re such a pest, Izzy,” Aiden tells me with a wide smile, nowhere near as annoyed as he tries to seem. “Do you want me to send lover boy up, or are you meeting him downstairs?”
“You can send him up.” I sit up and put my guitar down. Getting off the bed, I bend over and gather my hair into a high ponytail. After securing the hair tie, I straighten up and shove my feet into my sneakers, blowing the strands that are too short to be in the ponytail out of my face.
“Okay. Just keep the door open. You know Mom’s rules. You can only fuck him with the door open.” Aiden flashes me a cheeky grin before bounding out of my room.
