He took the cup and went back to his bed—where he sat on the edge and just sipped from his cup—and started to think about what his plans for the evening were.
There were still a few places he could go and hang out and chill—like the Tel Dosa Rio—all you can eat—Mexican buffet which served real plates of nachos and topped with five layers of cheese, guacamole, sour cream, cheyua brand of hot sauce which had become a popular mainstay on Level One, and served with a selection of cream or authentic ginger sodas with a cherry spritzer added in for flavoring.
Charlie’s stomach growled in either anticipation or sympathy—mostly to do with the hot sauce—of the occasion and it left him feeling like he should stay home; rather than risk another lovely episode of heartburn and indigestion.
But he couldn’t go out on an empty stomach—even if he wanted to. So he set down his cup of tea on top of the tool chest at the end of his bed and went looking for his recently bought stash of fruit and nut bars which he bought from a seller downtown last weekend.
This would be considered his “junk food” option, but was more than healthy than the alternative. He still hadn’t gotten around to start planting what few crops he could turn in the other room, but growing season was still a good month away—so the packets of seeds and planters still remained in their respective storage bins, boxes, and vacuum sealed canisters—to keep the bugs out and the moisture/PH levels down.
He found the first wrapped package sitting on top of a pile of books that he had been collecting for nostalgia’s sake, ripped the end off and fished out a couple for the heck of it—even though they were light in the calorie department.
Charlie still had a mind to head down to the restaurant for the nachos, but the more he thought about it, he started to wonder if Tillie wouldn’t mind joining him out for one night on the town—with him as a tour guide?
Bopping himself lightly on the head with one of the fruit bars, he muttered sullenly: “Yeah. Sure. And pigs will actually fly.”
Of course, the first time wasn’t that bad because he actually enjoyed her company in the short time they were together, but it was all business and he couldn’t spare a personal moment for the small talk.
Not if they wanted to keep her safe from the bad news bears topside. Of course, he hadn’t seen what happened to a magical familiar caught out in the open between two opposing forces, but he wasn’t about to ask Tillie for a demonstration because she deserved better than being vaporized in a heartbeat.
Or that of her mother—if that was her mother—and that other lady whom reminded him strongly of Rachel Jenkins—a hostess from the Mad Dog Bar and Grill.
Maybe she had a long lost twin sister that she never told me about? The older boy mused with some abject puzzlement.
Peeling back the wrapper, Charlie began to eat the end off and started chewing, still trying to come up with a suitable venue of entertainment for the evening.
And sighed.
“Okay, so even if I do go down to the Mercy Street Women’s Mission at this hour—my guess is she’s probably already in bed; sleeping.” The boy postulated.
“Which means that option is dead and buried till morning.” But he still had some time to kill between now and the next late show over at the Tele-Theater Complex which was showing a really cheesy B-rated movie marathon from the early 1980s.
Pirated films left from overseas. Chuck Norris, Bruce Lee flicks, a mix of Charles Branson—all dubbed with either Chinese or Elvish dialects with horrible tracks.
A perfect Saturday night outing. Or was it Friday now?
Charlie checked his now faded daily cat calendar and saw that it was Friday for the most part, but he had something circled in it for emphasis: “Roz. 10AM.”
He cursed of course.
“Damn it…I missed our meeting today!” he groaned, thinking that she was going to kill him for standing her up after he got off work. But in his defense, he half-expected things to be relatively normal and quiet.
Not fucking crazy and chaotic.
A knock on his door confirmed his worst fears.
“Aw…shit,” he breathed.
Putting on a shirt and his pair of pants, Charlie made his way to the front door and unlocked it.
Opening it, he was greeted by his girl friend who wore a mixed expression of annoyance and concern. It was hard to tell which would win out at this point—due to the heavy amount of tracer makeup she wore on top of everything else—but at least he was glad that she was here and in a possibly more forgiving mood.
Once he came up with a suitable excuse of course.
“Hi.” He managed with a tip of his cup. “Sorry about this morning. But it was crazy.”
“That much I figured—but at the least you could have called me on your audio link.”
“It’s on the fritz,” he revealed. “Loose transfer circuit or some stupid shit. I’m having Taylor fix it so I can get it back before the week is out.”
Roz shook her head. “You know he doesn’t work weekends. He’ll just end up charging you double like he did last time.”
“I can afford it.” Charlie answered with confidence in his voice. “Besides, the rumor mill says that you missed out on the latest rumble with the Bay City Sharks and the Black Hawks.”
“I thought we called a truce between those two gangs?” The girl echoed with slight surprise.
“Didn’t hold for one evening. Some ass hat blew his top and everything went to shit city in a heartbeat.” Charlie said—before showing the girl his right arm.
“How do you think I got this wicked bruiser?”
Roz whistled with heartfelt sympathy. “Damn. I thought block negotiators were off limits?”
Charlie smiled sheepishly. “Technically? So did I. But I took a club to the forearm by accident. It wasn’t intentional. Still screwed things up though. Thankfully, the brawl only lasted a few minutes before order was restored by the remaining group coordinators.”
“Lucky you weren’t killed.” The other girl said with genuine relief. “That would have put the kibosh on our meeting—which by the way…you missed. And that’s not normally like you.”
Charlie nodded guiltily. “Yeah. Something came up. Something big in fact. Had to go in for a deposition after last night’s action.”
“The witch girl?” Roz inquired owlishly.
“How do you know about her?” Charlie ventured cautiously. “I haven’t even said anything about it yet.”
“Word got around about some magical familiars being rescued. One of them at least. The two other busted in from the North Tunnel Exit. Or that’s what the word is currently at any rate.” The girl told him. “And I want names buddy. So give ‘em to me.”
“Why? So you can blackmail me into doing whatever you want?” Charlie countered with a bob of his eyebrows. “I thought we were just going to keep things on the straight and narrow—since last Tuesday where you ended up drunk and confessed to me your, uh, feelings?”
“I was bombed you fucking bastard!” Roz yelled at him. “Someone let me get my goddamned drink spiked again with fucking pixie dust!”
The older boy backed away from her wrath.
“Yeah. I know. Sorry about that. I completely missed out on what was going on while they had me distracted.”
Roz pointed a finger at him. “You said that you weren’t going to let Leo and Marsh make a complete fool of me. You promised.” She added thinly.
Charlie scratched his head for a moment.
“Yeah. Well, Leo made a bet which the other guys were thinking that Marsh wasn’t going to be able to follow through on. She’s the one who ended up spiking your drink.”
“And you didn’t say anything? At all?”
Charlie sighed. “I couldn’t. I had a knife blade to the nuts if I squealed. I knew it was going to turn out bad, but I wasn’t expecting…that.”
Roz snorted with some heartfelt embarrassment. “Yeah, well thanks to your lack of manliness in defending the realm, I ended
up blabbering like a fucking idiot because of it.” She said—before looking at him. “I didn’t do anything…bad—did I?”
“You mean when Leo told you to try and kiss me with your beer breath? Yeah, that was something I was trying desperately to avoid. Not that kissing you would have been an educational experience mind you—but the fact that you were on your third beer and your breath smelled absolutely horrible. I can‘t even believe you even tried that imported Gavi label shit.”
“Well, it was either that or some Black Rock. And I wasn’t about to test my mettle against some unfiltered Mountain Orc moonshine.” The girl said with a brief shudder.
“At any rate, thanks for sticking it out with me on Tuesday night—even if I was trying to put the moves on you subconsciously.”
Charlie nodded sagely. “Well, promise me that you won’t do such a thing while drunk. Sober…maybe. But not drunk.”
Roz scoffed. “I don’t think I’m good enough for that. My taste lately in guys have sucked worse than rotten eggs and forging relationships with them has been even harder since—you know…everyone knows my secret and all.”
“What? That you’re quarter elf on your grandmother’s side of the family?”
“A half-ling,” Roz corrected. “Though I have to tell you, I haven’t practiced any of my ‘spring’ magic in a long awhile. Not since your fourteenth birthday at any rate.” The girl confirmed with a chuckle of her own.
Charlie nodded. “I never thought of you any less, Roz. I think what makes you special also makes you stronger as a person.”
“Is that why I am always pint-sized for your personal enjoyment, bean pole?” She giggled then. “Cause I tell you, being five foot two kinda sucks when the guy your friends with and tried to put the moves on is at least a foot taller than you.”
“I’m a growing boy.” Charlie said in quiet defense of himself. “But since you’re here, how about we do something together? I can show you how to do a proper weld on my latest project.”
“You really want to tempt fate, Charles? The last time I tried something with you, I almost blew us both to the moon and back.”
Charlie laughed. “I promise. It won’t be like last time. I even took some precautions against a future occurrence. With you in mind. But the project is nearly done. I thought it could use your personal touch.”
“My signature? You must know by now that I have absolutely sloppy handwriting.” Roz openly teased then—privately thinking that she should have kissed him when she had the chance; even though she was bombed out of her ever loving mind.
“It’s not your handwriting that I need, Roz. It’s your sense of touch that would be the icing on the cake. I know you have almost perfect eyesight—hence the need for glasses—but there’s just one spot on the joint that could use your expertise.”
Roz relented then. “Fine. So show me.”
Charles grinned. “Follow me. It’s this way.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The Sting of Regret
Morning came really early for Tillie and her immediate family. The girl had a magical experience being at her first real birthday party—which Teena wouldn’t tell a soul about unless asked—and so breakfast turned out to be a surprisingly normal affair for all three witches at the table.
Even if they did have one half of one all to themselves.
Tillie didn’t mind the experience because of what happened the previous night, but she was in a more expedient mood than normal—which gave her mother some reason to be suspicious at first until the girl spotted a familiar face in the crowd and called her over.
Alicia was more than astonished by her daughter’s brazen attitude, even as Teena Clarkson sauntered over without her tray to give the poor girl a much needed hug and a kiss on the cheek.
From there, you could hear a pin drop from everyone present before Tillie introduced the head maintenance supervisor to her mom and then to Sarah Winters.
“I’m sorry mom,” the girl was saying. “I just had such a wonderful evening—making a few friends on the side. And socializing as Tabitha suggested yesterday.”
Alicia was a bit beside herself on that front—stunned by how quickly everything came together and then fell apart. Especially when it came to a witch’s personal boundaries and all. Rules included.
“Yes, that may be so, honey…but—” she began with some uncertainly—gazing at the élan woman for a moment and seeing who she really was in that time frame.
Tillie glanced over at her mother. “Are you going to chew me out? You told me that we don’t have the luxury to play things safe this morning after we woke up—especially with the upcoming mission back to our place.”
“—which may or may not happen.” The woman stressed urgently. “But still…you should have told me about your experiences after we went to bed. I don’t want to think you were taken advantage of because, well…you being you and a witch on top of that.”
Tillie rolled her eyes in quiet exasperation. “Mom…” she breathed with atypical teenage disappointment. “You guys were sacked out all night last night. That left me with very little to do except some reconnaissance of my own and perhaps…a bit of fun here and there.”
“Fun?” Sarah Winters inquired then.
Tillie nodded distractedly. “Yeah. Fun. And it was more than I could have ever hoped for too.”
Alicia gazed at Teena for a second. “What kind of fun did she have?” She asked point blank.
Teena stared back at the girl and shrugged. “Just a party.”
Alicia was incredulous when she heard that bit of unwelcome news.
“A…party?” She bit out in shock. Then she gave her only daughter a hard look.
“You know full well you are forbidden from going to one of those right?”
“Mom!” Tillie railed openly. “It wasn’t like I was breaking the rules! It was for a few magical kinsfolk. I didn’t see that many humans around.”
The woman cooled her jets a bit. “Magical kinsfolk?” She ventured. Teena nodded.
“The humans always have their parties on an adjoining floor. But the lower floor festivities was for anyone else. I didn’t think it would be a problem for a daughter because—well…? She’s technically one of them.”
“She’s a witch.” Alicia said, picking at her toast. “Not a fae, not an elf, not even…élan.”
Teena didn’t feel the list bit offended by that intended slight.
“She’s still human.” The woman said. “As are some of the others here at Mercy’s Street. Who they are doesn’t really matter. We are all one big family. Even those humans that are part of the Underground and the Resistance.”
Alicia sighed. Defeated.
“Wonderful. The High Sorcerer isn’t going to like this when I present my report to him.”
“Must you tell him everything?” Tillie beseeched her mother. “I would think that even he would be forgiving—considering the circumstances which have befallen us all.”
“You stupid girl…!” Her mother berated her full force. “Do you think the High Sorcerer would understand how one of our own went behind his back and started breaking the rules because of simple convenience or times of emergency? Do you know how many times I’ve told you what would happen if word got back to him that one of our own didn’t follow the code to the letter?”
Tillie groaned softly.
“I don’t think even he’s that cold or cruel. I’m only sixteen!” She retaliated hotly.
Alicia shook her head in dismay. “Age doesn’t matter, honey. You will be stripped of your standing within the Witch’s Guild and possibly your powers as well. Then you really will be one of them! Is that what you want?”
“I don’t think it would be that bad. I’ve seen humanity up close and personal. Dad, Charlie, Tabitha Gorges—to name a few.”
“That’s not the point, sweetie. You are a magical familiar. A witch born into a very, very special world that nobody else can understand or even know about. Not even your
father understood the underpinnings of our secret society. Or its day to day politics.”
“But he was a pureblood human. And you fell in love with him in secret and had a wedding that went outside the guidelines of the Witch’s Guild. I remember you telling me this. You swore me to secrecy when I was old enough to be entrusted with the information.”
“Because I didn’t want the same thing to happen to you.” Alicia stressed with worry. “Especially with that boy you like.”
“So? Maybe Charlie has a girlfriend I don’t even know about. Then it wouldn’t be so much of an issue.” Tillie retorted blandly—even though deep down, she hoped that bit of information wasn’t true.
“Then you wouldn’t have to worry about me marrying another human. Like dad.”
Alicia could tell she wasn’t happy with what she said, so she tried another approach.
“I never regretted marrying your father in secret, honey. Or having you. I just thought that you would break the curse of this part of our family history going back several generations of magical familiars marrying non-magical folk.”
Tillie giggled then. “So it’s great-grandma’s fault now?” She blurted out. “You do know how different times were back way before the Great War and such—being a Tracer and all.”
“That’s not the point, sweetie.”
“You never gave great-grandma any grief about it. That much I do remember when I was little.”
“That’s because your great-grandparents were special—even though Gloria gave me my share of vexing fits over the fact that you were developing much slower than a girl her age at first.”
Tillie grinned. “Maybe because I was saving my big moment for later. I didn’t feel like embracing my heritage just yet. I wanted to be like dad for just a bit longer.”
Generation Witch Year One Page 15