by Jen Pretty
   “Wait, didn’t I see you in the club tonight?” The man
   asked, following me.
   Shit
   “Sorry, you must be thinking of someone else. Gotta
   go.” I picked up the pace, and he didn’t continue to follow.
   Thank God.
   I wiped the sweat from the back of my neck as I called
   an Uber. The street was quiet now. Everyone was either in
   the club or had wandered off to find a less crowded place
   to celebrate Friday night.
   14
   When the Uber rolled up, I climbed in and gave him
   my address across town. Riverside was a small city, but big
   enough that public transit was a joke. The diver sang along
   to reggae music under his breath while a plastic hula girl on
   his dash danced along. The car smelled like pot, but he
   seemed coherent. I probably wouldn’t die in a fiery crash.
   The streets were quiet at midnight, even on Friday
   nights. The moon looked down from its place in the stars,
   glinting off the river as we rolled along its bank towards
   my apartment. I closed my eyes as we passed the graveyard
   and didn’t open them again until the car stopped in front
   of my building. I paid the man and stepped out, pulling my
   keys out of my pocket and slipping off the high heels in
   preparation of climbing the stairs to my apartment.
   The sound of late-night TV was leaking out of an open
   window in a lower level apartment. I didn’t really know my
   neighbours except for David who lived on the top floor.
   He was the super, so he came and went whenever anything
   broke, otherwise, it was mostly professionals living in the
   building.
   The silence rung in my ears, making me feel nervous
   even inside my locked apartment, so I clicked on the TV
   and changed into some fleece pants and a tank top. I
   checked the locks on the door and the window before
   15
   curling up on the futon to watch some TV until I drifted
   off to sleep.
   The next morning, I woke up to my alarm screaming
   and the sound of a morning news report.
   “Police say they found the body of a woman on the
   banks of Trent River this morning. The cause of death is
   still under investigation.”
   I located the remote in amongst my blankets and
   clicked off the TV. I had an hour to get ready for work and
   no time to ponder the surge in dead bodies found in the
   river this month. This was the first time I had heard of two
   washing up on the same day, but there were five already
   this month.
   I showered quickly and found some clean clothes piled
   haphazardly on top of my dresser. Grabbed an apple from
   the fridge and was tying up my boots when my cell phone
   rang.
   “Hey, Dorothy,” I said as I switched the call to speaker
   and set it on the table to continue tying my boots.
   “Hey, yourself. I hope you’re being careful. Did you
   hear the news?”
   “Yes, I heard it. I'm very careful.” No need to worry
   her. I called her Dorothy, but she was the closest I had to
   a mother. She was one of the nuns who helped raise me at
   the orphanage and the only one who knew about my little
   16
   magic problem. She never told me how she knew about
   magic, but she taught me to restrain it and hide it away so
   no one would discover my secret. Magic was not
   something ordinary people knew about, but there were
   some who knew, and they were the ones I needed to hide
   from.
   “I should hope so. You working today?”
   “Yup, on my way there now,” I said, juggling the phone
   and locking the door behind me.
   “All right, just be careful,” she said and hung up. My
   chuckle echoed through the stairwell as I tucked my phone
   away.
   “Good morning Selena,” the booming voice of the
   building super rang up the stairs from below.
   I leaned over the railing in the middle.
   “Morning, David,” I replied before scurrying down the
   rest of the stairs.
   “How are things?” he asked, holding the door open for
   me.
   “Can’t complain,” I replied, and he smiled as I sailed
   through the door and into the lobby. I checked my
   mailbox, but it was just fliers, so I left them and waved to
   David as I walked out the front door onto the street.
   17
   Work was busy again. Saturdays always seemed to
   bring out the families, so I made hundreds of burgers and
   chicken nuggets.
   “Did you hear about those dead bodies?” This time it
   was Georgia who brought it up. It was big news in our city
   since we didn’t have much crime. People were throwing
   the word ‘serial killer’ around.
   “Yeah, don’t go out alone at night,” I said, scraping
   grease off the grill.
   “No kidding. I asked the boss man to keep us on shift
   together.”
   “That won't help if you leave me at my place and walk
   the rest of the way alone,” I reminded her.
   “We can take an Uber then. My father gave me his
   account, so I wouldn’t have to walk anywhere after dark.”
   Her smile was ridiculous. Her father was a church minister
   and had no idea what his little girl did in the dark
   nightclubs. He had come into the diner once, and Georgia
   pulled out this weird alter-ego that was so sickeningly sweet
   I got a stomachache.
   “All right, fine,” I said, flicking off the lights and
   grabbing a bag of trash. “Call the Uber, I’ll just take this
   out, and then we can go.”
   18
   Georgia hopped off the counter where she had been
   sitting and grabbed her phone out of her purse. It was silly
   to get a ride three blocks but better safe than sorry.
   I pushed open the door to the back alley behind the
   diner. The various businesses that had back doors to the
   alley all used the same three dumpsters. One was recycling.
   The law firm always packed it with shredded paper and
   the coffee shop topped it off with used paper cups.
   Another was specifically for grease from my grill, and the
   last was just garbage. I stepped out into the dark, propping
   the door open behind me. There was a motion light above
   the door, but I had to take one more step before the sensor
   would pick up my movement and flick on.
   I looked down just before I took that step and saw a
   shadow on the ground. I twisted with the bag of garbage
   to try to avoid whatever was on the ground as the light
   flicked on and I toppled sideways onto the pavement,
   landing within reach of what turned out to be a dead cat. I
   screamed and rolled away from it. Magic swelled, and I
   clamped it back down, averting my eyes. There was
   movement at the end of the alley. It looked like the back
   of a person, disappearing around the corner. Like a man in
   a trench coat.
   I grabbed the bag of garbage and threw it towards the
   dumpster. Good enough. Then hopped over the poor dead
   19
 />   cat, holding my magic down as hard as I could, I pulled
   open the back door and slid in, locking it behind me.
   I took deep gulps of air and tried to calm down. My
   hands clenched into fists and pushed the magic back from
   the edge. If I had been holding any more magic, I wouldn’t
   have been able to keep it under control and would have
   had to raise the stupid cat ghost.
   “You ok,” Georgia peeked out from the kitchen. “I
   thought I heard a scream.”
   “A cat scared me,” I said, faking a laugh.
   Georgia shook her head. “Well, let's go, scaredy-cat.
   Our chariot awaits!”
   It took about 4 seconds to get home in the Uber.
   Georgia explained we didn’t want to walk at night with the
   murderer on the loose and the guy agreed with a solemn
   look it wasn’t right for pretty girls to walk home un-
   escorted. I rolled my eyes, but Georgia preened and batted
   her eyelashes. She never missed an opportunity to flirt.
   “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” I said.
   “Ok, I’m going to my dad’s tomorrow, but call me in
   the morning.”
   “All right,” I said, shutting the door and fishing my
   keys out of my pocket.
   The Uber rolled off and left me in the silence of the
   late evening. It was more quiet than usual. I climbed the
   20
   stairs to my apartment, lost in thoughts of the man in the
   trench coat. There was no way he was out behind the
   restaurant. Why would he be? I was just freaked out by the
   dead cat. Unless he put it there. He could have seen me the
   previous night and known who I was. I ran the rest of the
   way and locked myself in my apartment.
   My mind was freaking me out. All this talk of serial
   killers was making me crazy. I pulled out my phone and
   dialled Dorothy, but changed my mind. I pulled a bag of
   microwave popcorn out of the cupboard and tossed it in
   to pop. I switched the TV on to the movie channel, so I
   would be sure not to see any more news. A nice romantic
   comedy would help calm my overactive imagination.
   I woke the next afternoon to the sound of French
   voices on TV. My bleary eyes tried to focus on the screen,
   but something hard was under my face. When I reached up
   and grabbed it, I realized it was the remote. I snorted a
   laugh and clicked the power button. Silence fell, and I
   pushed myself up off the couch.
   In the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. The
   side of my face was a pattern of circles from the TV
   remote. I laughed at my reflection and flicked on the
   shower. My hair was nearly blonde now, the dye never held
   to my hair for long. I would have to pick up dye today
   unless I wanted to be noticeable. Plans for the day
   21
   finalized, I had a quick shower and then got dressed to go
   to the pharmacy. Grabbing my keys, I swung open the
   door, and my magic gathered hard and fast. I looked down
   and found a dead rabbit on the floor in front of my door.
   I slammed the door hard and gasped for air, clenching
   my hands to hold the magic back. Someone knew. There
   was no way to deny it now. A rabbit didn’t just walk into
   the building and die on my doorstep. I pulled my phone
   out and dialled Dorothy.
   22
   CHAPTER THREE
   “Someone knows,” I shouted into the phone as soon as
   I heard Dorothy’s soft hello.
   “What do you mean?” She asked, her voice rising
   quickly to match my own.
   “Someone saw me, I think. Then there was a dead cat
   at the restaurant, and right now there is a dead rabbit at my
   door to my apartment.”
   “Damn it.” I had never heard Dorothy swear. The
   words just escalated my fear and tension. I tucked the
   phone into my shoulder, dragged a suitcase out from under
   my futon and stuffed it with clothes. I had no idea where I
   was going, but I had to go. Now.
   “Come home. Get off the phone with me and call a cab
   to bring you here.”
   “Ok, ok. See you soon.” I hung up before she could
   answer and opened the app to find a ride. It said the closest
   23
   car was seven minutes away, so I continued to jam things
   in my suitcase. I tucked a hat on my head, stuffing my hair
   up under it and pulled on a big jacket.
   When my ride was only a minute away, I slid out the
   door without looking at the dead bunny. The echo of my
   boots in the stairwell sounded like someone chasing me,
   and I ran faster, nearly falling at the bottom when I tripped
   on the last step. I slammed out the door of the stairwel
   and into the lobby.
   David was there speaking with an older woman I had
   seen around the building before.
   “Hey, Selena. Are you ok?” he asked noticing my
   flushed and harried appearance.
   “Yeah, I’m fine. Just taking some things to my aunt's
   house,” I said. He looked perplexed, but I didn’t stick
   around to let him ask questions. I bustled past him and out
   the front door.
   Sitting at the curb was the same Uber driver I had last
   time. The plastic hula dancer swayed to the reggae music
   inside.
   The driver hopped out when he saw me and stuffed my
   suitcase in the trunk of his car. It was already half full with
   a giant set of wooden speakers, but he managed to fit my
   stuff too. I climbed in and gave him the address.
   24
   Dorothy lived in a subdivision on the other side of
   town. I leaned back and tried to slow my racing heart. My
   leg bounced with anxiety. This was stupid. She wouldn’t be
   able to protect me. I should run, not bring danger right to
   her door.
   I rubbed my forehead. Sparks swirled inside me like a
   toilet. I needed to calm down, or it would come pouring
   out. I took a few more deep breaths and counted down
   from a hundred like Dorothy had taught me all those years
   ago.
   Calm started to seep in, slowing the fire until it stopped
   spitting and just flickered against my surface. The Uber
   driver sang along to the music and cruised us across the
   bridge to the suburbs. Ornamental trees lined the smaller
   streets. They designed the neighbourhood for retired
   people with rows of semi-detached bungalows. Hedges
   and short fences lined the perfectly weeded gardens and
   mowed lawns. People strolled along the sidewalks,
   chatting.
   The car rolled to a stop; the driver got out and fished
   my luggage out of the trunk. I watched the roads for
   anyone following us.
   “That’s fourteen dollars,” the driver said.
   “Thanks,” I handed him twenty, took my suitcase and
   lugged it up the few steps to the front door. The afternoon
   25
   sun burned my eyes as I glanced over my shoulder one last
   time.
   “Selena,” Dorothy’s voice almost brought tears to my
   eyes.
   I wrapped her up in a hug and then hurried her into the
   ho
use, locking the door behind me.
   “It’s OK; you’re safe here,” she said. I moved past her,
   through the kitchen to the back patio door. It was also
   unlocked, so I turned the lock and then set my eyes on the
   kitchen window, but her voice stopped me.
   “Selena, I have someone for you to meet.”
   I turned and standing in the doorway to the living room
   was a man holding a broad-rimmed hat and wearing a
   trench coat. It was him. I reached behind me and pulled a
   butcher knife out of the block, then held it in front of me,
   pointed at the man.
   “Come over here, Dorothy,” I said, eyes locked on the
   intruder.
   “What are you doing? Put the knife down!” she
   demanded.
   “I saw him. He’s the one who saw me, and he left the
   cat,” I said, waving her towards me.
   The man's lip curled on one side, and I narrowed my
   eyes at him, taking a step forward.
   26
   “She’s brave for a Necromancer, Dorothy.” The man's
   voice oozed like heavy cream.
   “You shut up,” I said, waving the knife towards him.
   He bit his lip, hiding a smile and raised his hands in
   surrender. He thought I was funny?
   “Sweet girl, this man won’t hurt you. If you saw him,
   it's because I asked him to keep an eye on you.”
   “What? Why?” I asked.
   “You have heard about the killings. Those weren’t
   ordinary people who died. They had magic, like you. Kind
   of.”
   All the air left my lungs. There were five people like me
   in the city, and now they were dead.
   “I thought I was the only one,” I whispered.
   The man dropped his hands and let his smile creep back
   onto his face. “I’m afraid not. Dorothy did a great job
   training you, but she should have alerted us to your
   presence sooner. We can help you and protect you.”
   I shook my head. “If someone has murdered five other
   people just like me, you can’t keep me safe.”
   He put his hat back on his head and smiled at me. “Sure
   I can.” In the blink of an eye, he was in front of me and
   holding the big butcher knife. Then he wrapped his arms
   around me, and the whole room went sideways.
   27
   Lights flashed and burned my eyes for half a second and
   then I was in a busy room set up with tables and chairs like