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  The Discovered

  Maggie Sunseri

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  The Discovered

  Maggie Sunseri

  https://maggiesunseri.com

  * * *

  Copyright © 2021 Maggie Sunseri

  eBook Edition

  This work is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review or article.

  Also by Maggie Sunseri

  THE LOST WITCHES OF ARADIA

  The Discovered

  The Coveted

  The Illuminated

  The Hunted

  * * *

  THE AWAKEN SERIES (Young Adult Series)

  Awaken

  Arisen

  For those who choose love over fear.

  Contents

  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

  Note from Maggie

  Also by Maggie Sunseri

  About Maggie Sunseri

  The Coveted - Book Description

  The Coveted - Excerpt

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 1

  The winds of autumn brought a chill into the heart of the city, whistling against windows that revealed a stunning cityscape view. I swiveled around on a stool and faced my roommates, glancing every so often at the glittering lights of towering buildings and backlit figures moving within. I absentmindedly ran my fingers through Steph’s faux fur coat that was draped over the marble counter. She hummed softly beside me as she blended out Rena’s smoky eyeshadow with her fingertips.

  “Áine,” Rena said, careful not to move her head as Steph worked. “Are you sure you don’t just want a girls’ night? It’s your twenty-second, babe.”

  “Yeah honestly,” Steph added. “Are you still feeling up for going out?” She peered over at me, setting down the eyeshadow palette and studying my face.

  “Of course,” I assured them, smiling. “I’m glad the guys are coming over. It’s going to be a memorable night. I can feel it.” What I didn’t say was that the more people who came out with us tonight, the easier it would be for me to pull an Irish goodbye. However, the way Steph was looking at me, I wondered if I didn’t need to say it.

  The guys in question included the man Rena was seeing, two of Steph’s friends from her fashion magazine internship, and the only other person in our friend group who’d stayed in New York City after college, Nick.

  “Fantastic!” Rena typed furiously on her phone with one hand and sipped on Chardonnay with the other. “Because Cole’s here.”

  Steph and I exchanged glances, raising our eyebrows at each other and then laughing as Rena went to buzz him in, completely oblivious to our reaction. We weren’t Cole’s biggest fans considering how often Rena had gone from smitten to disappointed and back again, all within a couple weeks’ time. She wasn’t the greatest judge of character, but then again, not everyone had my gift.

  “Shot?” Steph asked me, already pouring tequila into the cheesy NYC shot glasses we got from street vendors during freshman orientation. The deep brown skin along her cheekbones glimmered, creating an iridescent dance of color as she turned her head beneath the kitchen pendant lights.

  “Sure, why not?” I tapped my glass to hers and threw it back. The burn of the liquor traveled down my throat and pooled into an enveloping warmth in my stomach.

  Rena opened the door to a tall, blond man with a strong nose and lightly freckled skin. He looked like he’d come straight from Wall Street, and he walked with a kind of lazy swagger that threw his center of gravity off as if he was leaning back on his heels.

  “This is Cole,” Rena said after he entered. She beamed ear to ear.

  He waved at us with a short flick of his wrist. “Hello, roommates. Who’s the birthday girl?”

  “That would be Áine, the one in that gorgeous little red dress,” Rena said animatedly, making an exaggerated gesture with her arms.

  “Ahn-ya,” he attempted to repeat back to us. It didn’t sound right on his lips.

  As Cole stepped closer to me, his energy coursed out from his body in wisps of red and murky gray hues. It reached for me, bubbling up and overflowing into the space between us. It was lustful, but not entirely directed at any single target. It was just a general state of being, longing, dissatisfaction. It felt like frustrating attempts at getting warm on a cold night—icy hands reaching toward flames that continuously moved out of reach at the last second. It was an uncomfortable, restless aura, and I had to try hard not to make a face.

  I met Steph’s eyes, coming back into the present moment and letting Cole’s energy slither back to him and away from my perception. She lifted her eyebrows slowly as she discerned my judgement. Then she gave me a small nod, as if to say, I knew it.

  Rena scrunched her face at us, sending me a sharp glare from behind Cole.

  “Hey, nice to meet you,” I said quickly, extending a hand to him. “You want a drink?” Who was I kidding? Of course he did.

  He didn’t seem to notice the wordless conversation that had just taken place. “Yeah. For sure, but could I use your bathroom first?” he asked.

  “Of course,” Rena said, her excitement slightly deflated. “It’s just down the hallway.” She gestured to our right. As soon as he shut the door behind him, she turned to me and crossed her arms. “I told you I didn’t want you to do that anymore.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “Sometimes I can’t help it.” Okay, maybe I could’ve helped it.

  Steph cast a glance down the hall before leaning in. “We’re just trying to protect you. Why would you want to be with someone with bad vibes, dude? Not just regular bad vibes either, but like psychically, cosmically bad vibes…”

  Rena sighed dramatically but looked back at me in spite of herself. “How bad?” she asked.

  Before I could open my mouth, Steph gestured to the front door. “Be right back.”

  “Well, I don’t think he’s a serial killer or anything,” I started. “But possibly some kind of addict? And certifiably… horny.”

  Rena rolled her eyes. “Right, well, that’s more than half the people in this city.” She stared me down.

  “Fine! I’m sorry. I’ll stop. Just be careful.” It wasn’t going to end well. But free will, and all that, right?

  Multiple voices echoed from the hallway as Steph opened the door. At the same time, Cole came back into the kitchen, sniffling loudly. He helped himself to a tequila shot and tilted his head back to take it in one decisive gulp.

  Nick’s voice rang out. “Hey, witch bitch!” He sauntered over to me.

  “Stop call
ing me that,” I hissed at a clearly tipsy Nick before pulling him in for a hug. Leave it to him to pregame the pregame. “How are you?”

  “Fantastic, darling,” he glanced behind him at Steph’s work pals. “Oh my god. Who are they?” He fanned his face.

  On cue, Steph introduced them as David and Reagan, who, to be fair, did look like fitness models. Cole was not amused by Nick’s antics as he drooled at the two men, and his unwavering, judgmental gaze was really starting to get on my nerves. We all gathered in the kitchen talking and waiting to head out to the club a block over.

  “Is no one going to say anything about how nice this place is? How in the world are you guys affording this?” Cole gawked, looping his arm around Rena’s waist. “I know that a fashion magazine intern, a social media manager and whatever the hell it is that you do,” he continued, lazily pointing to me, “do not make enough for this.” He laughed, looking for support from Steph’s friends who politely smiled and averted their gaze.

  Steph and Rena fell silent and looked over at me. I cleared my throat and opened my mouth before being cut off by Cole.

  “Oh,” he said, “trust fund baby then?” He stared me down with a crooked grin.

  Rena crossed her arms and shot him a look. My cheeks felt hot. A vision of my mothers’ faces overwhelmed my vision, smiling down and warning me:

  Never take off your special bracelet, Áine. It will protect you and keep you hidden…

  I twirled the silver band around my wrist. “My parents passed away and left me some money,” I said simply, meeting Cole’s gaze and holding it firmly until he looked away, the color draining from his face.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, that’s my bad,” he said, scratching his head and looking down at the kitchen tile.

  “Alrighty then,” Nick said, laughing nervously and giving my hand a squeeze. Under the façade of chaos and messiness, his energy was warm and light, like the feeling of sunlight trickling through blinds on a morning with nowhere to be. “Shot and then go?”

  Everyone quickly nodded their heads with more than enough enthusiasm.

  “To the birthday girl!” The room cheered.

  By the time we made it to the club, the line to get in was all the way around the corner from the entrance. Cole groaned and rolled his eyes, which the rest of us tried to ignore as we made the best of it. His energy was becoming more and more draining and hard to ignore. Blocking out his negative vibes was even more important to someone like me—a clairsentient—who could feel the emotions and psychic baggage of others. Clubbing could be an intense and overwhelming experience for anyone, but for me it could either turn into my own personal hell or an orgasmic high. It all depended on the kind of energy I intercepted from the hundreds of people around me.

  “Hey.” Nick nudged me. He brushed his light brown curly hair out of his face. “You feeling up for this?” He swayed a little, resting a hand on my shoulder.

  “I would tell you if I wasn’t,” I said.

  “You didn’t last time…” he trailed off, referring to the night I’d just been dumped and had a full-blown mental breakdown as I felt the pain of three hundred people. He saw the look on my face and quickly spoke again.

  “You look so hot though, seriously.” He grabbed my hand, lifted it above my head, and twirled me around. “Like yes, honey!”

  I laughed and rolled my eyes at him. Rena and Steph joined in to hype me up as I blushed and grinned. I felt the red flashes of anger coming off of Cole like sparks, for reasons I couldn’t begin to imagine.

  When we finally made it inside, Steph led us to the coatroom and then to the dance floor. Somewhere along the way we’d lost Rena and Cole, and I felt a bit guilty at my relief. The energy around me was overwhelming. It was bright, multicolored, and pulsating, overpowering my senses. I allowed myself to get drunk off of the collective effervescence as I danced in our little circle.

  After a while, one of Steph’s friends, Reagan, approached me and started dancing in front of me, eyeing me up and down. He had dark brown skin, well-defined muscles that peeked through his thin white shirt, and a mischievous smile. We started to dance, Steph squealing, “Get it, girl!” in my ear. I reached out for his energy, trying to separate it from the crowd. Deep in its core it was breezy but reserved, complex like a fine wine, but at the surface lay palpable lust. I had to taste it.

  I moved my face closer to his, and he met my lips. But as soon as his tongue grazed mine someone pulled me away.

  “Áine!” Steph yelled over the loud music. She pulled on my arm, her eyes urgent. Dread swam to my gut. “We need to go find Rena!”

  The four of us linked hands and started moving through the crowd back toward the entrance. In the wake of my fear, my high dissipated and dropped into the cavernous abyss. Suddenly the people around me reeked of pain, anger, and destruction. I could see the darkest parts of them billowing around like smoke and shadows.

  When we hurried into the street, I gulped in fresh air, trying to breathe and center myself. Reagan shot me a look of concern, reaching out to steady me.

  “What’s going on? Is Rena okay?” Nick asked.

  Steph was staring at her phone, leading us further down the street in the opposite direction of our apartment. “I don’t know. I think she drank too much and now she’s arguing with Cole. Her texts don’t make much sense.”

  I took a glance at her phone’s screen, where Steph was tracking Rena’s location. We seemed to be approaching.

  “You can sleep it off at my place.” Cole’s terse voice rang out as we rounded a corner. He had a firm grip on Rena’s arm. When he saw us approach, his demeanor shifted into the defensive, and he let go of her. “She’s fine. Sorry about the drama.” He raised his eyebrows and glared at Rena like he was scolding an errant child. “She just got too drunk—shocker—so I was taking care of her.” His eyes darted around, the streetlamps illuminating a throbbing vein in his forehead. He wiped at his nose and then at his bloodshot eyes.

  The hair on the back of my neck stood up, my whole body suddenly vibrating like the booming bass of a rock concert. I was barely aware of Steph and Nick starting to argue with Cole as I watched a very drunk, wobbly Rena dart into the road just as a taxi turned the corner and sped down the street. As if in slow motion, Rena tripped. Her body sprawled right out in front of the vehicle. The sound of screeching tires rang through the night. Reagan clutched my arm painfully as David yelled.

  Time slowed down as my mothers’ silver bracelet burned my skin and then dissolved into ash. A monumental surge of energy I’d never felt before entered through the crown of my head and shot out through the palm of my instinctively outstretched hand. At my direction, the cab flew through the air and into the vacant building across the street, smashing through heavily vandalized glass.

  A chorus of screams erupted and mixed with the boom of the collision. I was relieved to see Rena sit up, confused but unharmed. I stumbled as darkness washed over my consciousness, and before anyone could catch me, I fell hard to the pavement.

  I’d always known I was different from the other children in my Northern Irish village. I started willing flowers to grow and bloom right before my mothers’ eyes at age five, and by the time I was ten, I brought lightning and hail with each temper tantrum. I tried my hardest to contain it. I witnessed my mothers’ terror with each display of raw power, but I couldn’t stop.

  One day, I overheard Momma Jane talking to Momma Celeste in hushed tones in their bedroom. “They’re going to find her soon. We need to act.”

  They sensed me lurking at the door and ceased speaking, immediately coming to console me. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks as wind gushed through an open window and extinguished the candles on their dark mahogany dresser. I closed my eyes as they held me, trying not to give in to the enthralling energy reaching out to me from all directions.

  Channeling that power was the greatest high I’d ever felt, but honoring my mothers meant never searching for it again.

  Aware of m
y unconsciousness but unable to force myself awake, I thought of my mothers and our quaint, rural life among the rolling hills, where they braided flowers into my hair and told me stories of witches and magick. They sang to me in an ethereal, ancient-sounding language as we gardened. Sunlight warmed the back of my neck and I giggled as—

  You need to run. You are in grave danger. Don’t trust anyone. A man’s deep voice rang in my mind, sharply cutting through the mirage of memories and replacing them with unstable darkness behind my eyelids.

  Who are you? I asked into the void.

  A friend. I will find you. Run.

  My eyes flew open. My friends and a couple of strangers were gathered around me, a mix of fear and confusion in their eyes.

  “Hey! Get back, guys. Give her some space,” Steph said, her voice strained and shaking.

  Cole’s mouth was agape. “What is this? The motherfucking Avengers?”

  “Ma’am, are you okay? Don’t move. An ambulance is on its way,” a man in a police uniform urged.

  “What on earth just happened?” Reagan asked, looking at me in pure terror. His energy recoiled from me and went cold.

  Something about me felt naked. Disoriented, I instinctively reached for my silver bracelet, only to wince in pain as my fingers brushed over festering red and white blisters where it used to rest. Tears brimmed in my eyes from the pain, soon replaced by hot panic as I realized my source of protection had disintegrated—as well as my only tangible connection to my mothers.