by T. S. Snow
Then I thought of how she’d grow eerily quiet and get insanely focused when we were doing a mission or facing each other online, but then she’d talk a million words a minute and brag when she kicked my ass. I remembered our first meeting, the first time we saw each other, how happy she had looked, how meeting her had made me feel like my entire world finally made sense. Like I’d finally felt that click my family had always told us about. The one you got when you met your perfect match. I knew, deep in my bones, deep in my being, that Charisma and I belonged together.
There was an explosion of light, and I instinctively opened my eyes. My grandmother’s were closed tightly, but I could sense she was completely focused.
A light yellow activation circle surrounded us where we sat, holding hands, and I thought I saw blurry shadows passing outside the circle, as if spirits were out there attempting to come inside, hitting her magic, and then leaving.
It was beautifully terrifying.
My grandmother started chanting, and I went back to visualizing Charisma.
The temperature in the room dropped, the background noise vanished, and the blurry shadows took form.
“Char? Are you there?” I voiced the question to the empty room, and my grandmother clicked her tongue in disapproval.
Oops. I wasn’t supposed to speak.
“Charisma Carter, I command thee. Come forth, for your love awaits. Step into this circle and give us an answer, so revenge can be met and you can find eternal rest.”
I swore the ground shook, the lights flickered in the room, and a shadow appeared in the center of the circle.
But the coloring was all wrong.
Red hair instead of pink, green eyes instead of silver.
This wasn’t Charisma.
What the fuck? Had I messed up grandma’s spell? Had Charisma already crossed over?
“Hi,” the ghost said, waving her mostly transparent hand as if she was meeting a friend from school or some shit like that.
Who the fuck is this?
Apparently, I must’ve asked at least one of the questions out loud, because the ghost answered. Her voice carried in the wind, echoing, making it seem like there were hundreds of ghosts speaking at the same time instead of just her.
“I’m Annie, your friendly ghost neighbor. What can I do for you this fine day?” She sounded almost….upbeat. As if she was summoned from the great beyond and her job truly was to just act as some sort of assistant to the other spirits.
My grandmother cackled a laugh, and it was enough to make me whip my head to face hers again. I could see her through the ghost’s body. It was creepy.
And that was saying something coming from a guy who literally dealt with dead bodies to perform magic.
“What’s going on? Why are you laughing so much?” I directed my question at my grandmother, but it was ghost-Annie who answered.
“She’s laughing because you’re a dumbass.”
“What the hell?”
My grandmother tsked her tongue and Ghost-Annie sighed.
“Fine, I’ll behave.” I swore the ghost was pouting. “Charisma isn’t dead, dumbass. She’s alive. And when you find her, please tell her Annie said it’s not her fault. She needs to hear it even though she probably won’t believe you; she’s even more stubborn than my brother, and that’s saying something.”
With that, Annie the ghost rolled her eyes and vanished.
I stared at the spot where the ghost had been, too shocked to move, unable to comprehend what she had just told me.
Char is alive.
3
Charisma
Everything hurt.
Everything hurt so badly, I swore I’d been run over by a semi-truck. Every nerve ending in my body was screaming in desperation, from the top of my head all the way down to my pinkie toes, as if tiny little men were trampling all over my body with ten-inch heels.
What the fuck had happened?
I felt…weird. Disconnected. Like someone had thrown my brain into a meat grinder and then turned on a smoke machine inside my head.
There was nothing but this all-consuming pain. Everywhere.
I tried to break through the fog, to scream for help, to do something.
But nothing happened; I couldn’t move, I couldn’t see, I couldn’t even breathe.
I was nothing but smoke and agony.
I tried to fight the wave of darkness as it came for me once again, but I wasn’t strong enough, and I succumbed.
Loud beeping and voices brought me back to the verge of consciousness.
I tried to strain my ears to make sense of what was going on, but I couldn’t push past the pain to do much.
What the fuck had happened to me?
Why did every single inch of my body hurt so badly?
Bast. I’d met Bast for the first time ever and fallen over the deep end. Then I’d…gone home? Had I gone home?
Everything was fuzzy and weird; the fog inside my head was almost a physical thing I couldn’t fight against.
I needed to think. To remember. If I knew what had happened to me, maybe I could fix it. Or get help.
I’d gone home, hadn’t I?
Had I fallen down the stairs again? I didn’t remember it hurting this bad last time I’d done it, but then, it’d only been a couple of flights. Maybe this time I went tumbling down from higher up? Where had the stairs been, though? I never took the stairs in my apartment; I knew myself well enough not to.
The need for answers had me forcing my eyelids open but the damn things weren’t working properly. They were stuck as if I’d super glued them together.
What the fuck?
What the hell had I done to myself this time?
Okay, breathe, Charisma. Think.
Hands. Could I feel my hands? Could I move them? I tried to take stock of my body, concentrating on the extremities first. I focused all my strength on doing one thing: moving my pinkie finger. Mentally, I winced. How was it possible that even my fingernails hurt?
I heard a gasp in the room before voices started again. I hadn’t even realized the noise around me had stopped, but their words continued to be nothing more than gibberish; they didn’t make sense to me.
I was…detached. From myself, from my body. Why did everything feel so far away? Why couldn’t I open my eyes?
Panic started to set in, and it got even worse when I felt cold hands touching me.
Who was there?
Who had me?
I needed to call someone. I needed help.
I tried to reach my magic, to activate any of my elements so I could protect myself against the hands.
But it wasn’t there.
There was nothing there.
Nothing but a void.
And then there was darkness.
I floated in and out of consciousness for what felt like forever. Every time I woke up, I was slowly able to move just a little bit more. First my pinkie fingers, then the others. I finally managed to open my eyes, and I found myself in an unfamiliar room.
Faces would come in and out of my line of sight. I thought I saw Theo at one point, but I was probably just losing my ever-loving-mind because there was no way my ex-boyfriend would be looking down at me with so much fucking concern in his gaze.
I didn’t know how to separate dreams from reality anymore.
They must’ve given me something for the pain, though, because I’d at least gotten rid of it. For now, anyway.
Yet, the fog inside my head was as strong as ever.
I was here, but I wasn’t.
One minute I was weightless and free, floating in the fog; the next I was back inside my body, being pulled under.
I could feel people poke and prod at me, but I couldn’t interact with them.
The worst part was always when light was shone into my eyes. That shit hurt like a bitch. I wanted it to stop but I hadn’t managed to make my mouth form words yet.
My eyelids fluttered open, and I held my breath as someone new c
ame in. I’d given up on trying to make sense of where I was, of what surrounded me. Thinking about it creeped me out more than a little bit. Maybe if I didn’t know where I was and what had happened to me, I wouldn’t have to face whatever came my way.
At least every time the pain came back, they would poke at me, and then it would be gone again.
Thank the Goddess for small mercies.
And that became my routine for a long time.
Fight to wake up. Fight to remember. Fight to think through the fog.
Pain. Strange faces. Relief.
Then darkness.
And repeat.
The feeling of something against my forehead had me opening my eyes and I squeaked in shock at what I saw. I tried to scramble up on the bed, away from the bushy red beard that was inches away from my face, and the lips which were way too close to my own, but moving was a terrible, terrible idea and I sort of accidentally head-butted the face I was trying to get away from.
Motherfucking Ouch.
“What the hell?” I yelped and tried to raise my hand to rub at my head where it hurt, except bending my arm felt weird and when I looked down, I saw an IV line connected to me.
When had that happened?
One look at the culprit and I didn’t know whether to cry or yell. What in the name of parallel universes was going on? How was Theo here in my room kissing me? Had I been abducted by aliens? Was this one of those sci-fi movie scenarios where the female lead went to sleep and woke up in a dream that was more like a nightmare, only to find out she wasn’t actually dreaming?
Oh, hell no.
There was no parallel universe nightmarish world that made it okay for your ex-boyfriend to suddenly be kissing you again.
Granted, he’d been kissing my forehead so it wasn’t like this was some Sleeping Beauty moment.
Still, the evidence was staring right back at me with concerned eyes.
Nope.
Not doing it.
Not today, Satan.
Not tomorrow either.
I shoved all thoughts of Theo touching and kissing me away, hiding them deep inside me, burying it deeper than the cheat codes I used to know by heart for The Sims growing up. I sprinkled a pile of not gonna happen on top of it just to make sure I never got anywhere near analyzing it, even with a twenty-foot pole. Sometimes denial really was the best route, and I was becoming an expert at it. Pretty sure if you looked the definition of denial up in the dictionary there would be a picture of me there by now. That was how good I’d gotten at it.
The beeping of machines penetrated into my brain, and I looked around, trying to make sense of what was going on. I pointedly ignored the six-foot hottie standing right in front of me with sad green eyes. I was so not ready to deal with him now, or ever, really.
White walls closed me in, and there was that naturally sterile smell in the air that I’d recognize anywhere.
I was at the hospital, but why?
Well, at least the IV line was easily explained by something other than aliens. Don’t judge, sci-fi is my jam.
What in the name of holy magical equations was going on?
There was a table near the window which held some fresh flowers. The only other furniture in the room was a couch by my bed, which was empty, but there were blankets thrown haphazardly on it. I frowned.
Had Theo slept here?
Oh, Goddess, please tell me I’m wrong.
What the hell was Theo even doing here, anyway? I hadn’t seen him since graduation, and one would think he would’ve gotten the clue that he was persona non grata in my life after I’d ignored his stalker texts.
Had Theo finally snapped and kidnapped me so he could get me to listen to him?
Nope, that was going too far, even for me. No way he would do that. Or so I hoped.
Back into the denial box you go, stray thoughts.
I needed to find out what was going on and what had happened. Only with the full picture could I figure out a way out of whatever mess I’d landed in.
Unable to ignore him anymore, and knowing he would have at least some of the answers I sought, I took in the tall, handsome man who was still standing by my bed like a life-sized action figure.
Theo’s red hair was a fucking mess. I’d never seen him this disheveled in my life. Not even when we’d been fifteen and he’d decided to try to look “cool” with a longer hairstyle and a pierced ear. The minute his grandmother had caught sight of him, she’d thrown a fit and he’d ended up with a shaved head and a Band-Aid on his ear. It had actually been pretty freaking funny.
Now, though, his light green eyes looked tired, there were purple bags underneath them that contrasted a hell of a lot with his pale skin. Theo was sporting a freaking beard, as if he hadn’t shaved in days, maybe even months.
I’d never actually seen him with a beard before; the rugged look suited him.
No, bad Charisma.
“What the hell happened to you?” I blurted out before I could think better of it.
So much for ignoring the red elephant in the room.
Theo winced.
“You were in an almost comatose state for two weeks, Char. I was worried sick about you.”
Wait. What?
Two weeks?
Shock had my mouth gaping open, and it took me a few seconds to remember how to form words. “What happened?” I rasped. My throat felt like I had swallowed shards of glass multiple times.
I was starting to sound like a broken record, but I couldn’t help myself. Not even in my worst nightmares would I have managed to come up with shit like this, and I had a pretty wild imagination.
That parallel world alien nightmare theory was sounding more and more appealing by the second.
“I don’t know the full details, but… You were inside your apartment when it fucking exploded, Charisma. You’re lucky to be alive. We have no idea how you even are alive—” His voice broke and he took a second to compose himself before he continued. “If it hadn’t been for the Healers… I don’t even want to think about what could’ve happened.”
Theo stepped closer to me and lightly brushed the hair that had fallen on my face with shaking hands.
“I could’ve lost you, Char. I’m so, so sorry.” My heart tightened at how sad he looked right now, how broken.
No. Don’t fall for it, Charisma. It’s all just a trap. An illusion. You know better than this, I mentally chided myself.
“My apartment?”
I hung onto that little tidbit of information like a lifeline. I knew I’d asked the question, but I was starting to regret it now. I was so not ready to deal with this. And it didn’t help that the half of my brain that wasn’t filled with fog had hung up a 404 Error sign.
“The police are investigating what happened to you, and I heard talk that somehow AMIA got involved, but I couldn’t dig around and find out what’s going on. Everyone is insanely tight-lipped about it. All I know is that your apartment went up in fucking flames, and the explosion was crazy. You had just gotten home when it happened, and every single Healer says it’s a miracle you survived.” He paused for like two seconds before his compassion and worry vanished only to be replaced with fury. “What the fuck, Char? How did this happen?”
Uh. Excuse you! I just woke up after two weeks out for the count. Oh, I did not miss that little nugget of information. How was this my fault? What could I have possibly done to warrant someone trying to blow my brains out and…
Oh.
Light dawned in my head like an old school light bulb had been turned on inside.
Suddenly, things started to make sense.
I might not know what had happened exactly or remember the details, but I knew one thing for sure.
The fucking resistance was onto me.
I knew it with the same clarity that I knew how to code a ten-step magic program using only one activation circle.
“I need to make a phone call,” I blurted out.
There was shit I needed to do.<
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“Woah, tiger, stand down. You’re not calling anyone and you’re not going anywhere.”
I blinked up at Theo, I hadn’t even realized I’d moved and sat up on the bed, half turned so that I could leave.
Huh. I should probably get rid of the IV line before I go storming after the stupid fucking rebels.
“The fuck I’m not. I have shit to do, Theo. You can’t hold me in here.” I sounded desperate even to my own ears, but I really hated hospitals. They reminded me too much of the rooms I had to go to as a kid to try to force my magic to manifest and strengthen. And those were not memories I wanted to relive ever again. I’d been fine when I’d been in la-la land, but now that I was mostly under control and conscious, I really didn’t want to stay here.
Theo’s whole face softened, his eyes filled with concern. I didn’t want to look too closely, I didn’t want to see pity in them. He knew too much, saw too much when it came to me. And I wasn’t ready to deal with him or the shitstorm he’d left behind.
To say we had some unfinished business would be the understatement of the century. And there was only so much a girl could handle on her plate before she completely crumbled.
“Look, Char, I know how much you ha—” I sent him a look that had him trailing off as if he was thinking better about what he’d planned on saying before he tried again. “It took them three Healers to fix you up, Char, and even then they had to work on you for a week. And then it took you another week to recover, probably because of the amount of magic that was used on you. During that week, you were in and out of consciousness. You almost didn’t make it, you can’t just leave.”
“But I feel fine,” I protested. I couldn’t have stopped myself if I tried, even though I did not in fact feel fine. Unless pain all over and a scratchy as hell throat and a headache were what people considered fine. However, the memories were trying to surface and the safe, healing environment was having a very different effect on me than what it probably aimed to do. I sent Theo my best puppy dog look. Puss in Boots had always made the look seem so fucking successful, I figured there was no going wrong with it.