The Bitterwine Oath

by Hannah West

  Baptized in sweat, we splatter-paint mosquito murals on our skin.

  Sunday near noon and I’m frying like a moth on a zapper,

  nape lipstick red as if blotted with church lady kisses

  while Dad’s forearm is dip-dyed ruddy, fading

  to lily white beneath his sleeves.

  Twist. Hiss. My Dr Pepper is flat as a field now,

  but the nectar tastes sweeter in the Piney Woods.

  The commotion of home evanesced like carbonation when

  we hung a left toward Toledo Bend.

  As I squash mud into boot-shaped reservoirs,

  I like to pretend we’re nomads, as familiar with the maze

  of unharvested virgin pines as we are with the sunburst

  of berries on our tongues, the muscle of a bow,

  the innards of fish slated for dinner.

  My skin tastes like earth as I wet the tip of my finger

  to feel the breeze twisting, and in the warmth

  of a still-green September, a chill nibbles up my spine.

  “Keep up,” says my dad, suddenly stiff as a sentry.

  His eyes read the woods at my back,

  and mine follow the map his have laid out. Nothin’ there.

  The tautness snaps out of the air and we move on to the lake,

  to woo with rattle trap songs the bigmouth bass.

  But that stretch of seconds chews at me,

  the gaze of nature, or un-nature, upon me,

  turning my arm hairs to quills.

  If he’s afraid of something in this shady sanctuary,

  in this world,

  then there’s something worth fearing.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Natalie Colter

  All the windows of Levi’s house were dark except for one. A golden square of light fell on the backyard from the upstairs window of his dad’s study. I leaped and grabbed the back-porch overhang, dangling for a second before maneuvering onto the asphalt shingles. It was impossibly easy.

  Levi sat at the desk in sleep shorts and an old tee with holes in it, bent over piles of paper chaos.

  My gentle knock startled him out of a deep reverie. An indecipherable look passed over his features and he wove through the boxes and stacks of books to open the window. I found myself once again caught off-guard by the webs of color in his hazel eyes, by the rock-hewn bone structure and the muted dust of freckles.

  Without a word, he took in my appearance, which I hadn’t bothered to beguile: the guns in their holsters, the dark wardrobe, the boots. His gaze lingered on the cuts across my chest. “What do you need, Nat?” he asked, turning his back on me to pick his way back to the desk. The wooden boards creaked under his bare feet.

  I took the liberty of stepping inside. “I’m just checking in. Why are you up so late?”

  “Going through my dad’s stuff. Trying to make sense of everything he knew about the Wardens.”

  “What did he know?”

  Levi shot me a dark look through his pale ginger eyelashes, one that said he was not obligated to indulge my curiosity.

  But I refused to be cowed. I hauled a box toward the desk to sit on.

  Levi sighed and shut the door to the hallway. “You look like hell,” he said, but it was too soft to be an insult.

  “I’ve had a big night.”

  He leaned against the desk. “Fighting demons?”

  I tilted my head in surprise. “Was that your dad’s guess?”

  “One of them.”

  We locked eyes. Behind his frustration, embers of his desire for me flickered, not as bright and flashy, but somehow more intense. “You don’t look like hell,” he said gently. “You look beautiful. And fierce. If I were a”—he looked sideways at me and made a guess—“forest demon? I wouldn’t want to cross you.”

  I laughed and felt heat flood into my cheeks. He kept staring at me, smiling, unabashed, and the warmth traveled down my neck. I’d managed to crack his shell again. It seemed to be getting easier.

  I stood up and moseyed over to the built-in shelves, reading titles without processing them, still feeling the burn of his gaze. Soon enough I heard footsteps and felt his undeniable presence behind me.

  “Did your dad know anything about how Nora died?” I asked, turning to face him.

  “The coroner said the cause of death was cardiac arrest. My dad knew it wasn’t true.”

  “I think she may have tried something new,” I said. “I think she tried to stop the Wood—I mean, the ‘forest demons,’ using an unconventional method.”

  I could be wrong. Kate had softly implied that Nora might have approached the Woodwalkers with her defenses down in order to take her own life. Levi had confirmed that Nora was sensitive, maybe a little unwell. But something nagged at me. Why would Nora choose to give up in the middle of the fight? It was the first-ever Claiming. She didn’t know what was going to happen, had no reason to suspect the Wardens would fail. They had surely figured out that the Woodwalkers wanted to keep the bodies, and that there was a significant reason why they were returning to the sacred glade. There should have still been an opportunity to stop the Woodwalkers from becoming human again. Why would Nora surrender before the battle was lost?

  “You aren’t thinking of trying ‘something new,’ are you?” Levi asked, propping his arm on the shelf over his head, just like he had on the garden trellis before we’d kissed the first time.

  “No, I’m not,” I assured him over the sound of my racing pulse, fighting the urge to pat the revolvers at my hips like I was proud of them for their work tonight. It turned out I was pretty good at the conventional tactics, and Nora’s diversion hadn’t worked out well for her. I would stick to the script—it was my best chance of saving Levi.

  “Good,” he said, and leaned down to brush his lips across mine. My touch slid from his biceps to his shoulders as I eagerly kissed him back. Riveted, he gave an answering gasp that sent a trill of delight racing through me. I felt his grip on my thigh just before he lifted me up and set me back against the bookshelf. I hooked my legs around his waist.

  “Are we moving too fast?” he whispered against my lips.

  “I really, really want to say no and keep doing what we’re doing,” I whispered back, grazing his bottom lip with my teeth. The soft noise in his throat about did me in.

  “That would be the easiest thing,” he said. He pulled back to look at me, his breath tickling my hair. “But I want this to feel right. Not rushed.”

  “We could just talk,” I said with a shrug.

  He grinned. “We were supposed to go on a date. You owe me one.”

  “All right, let’s make a rule: no more of this until after one date with no kissing. That way we know there’s more than physical attraction.”

  “There definitely is on my end,” he said huskily.

  I smiled like a helpless idiot. “Mine, too.”

  “But it’s a pact,” he agreed,

  “Maybe we should kiss on it.”

  Levi chuckled and indulged me as I stole another greedy kiss before promptly setting me back on the floor. No matter how strong the attraction, he’d been pretty strict with himself, sticking to his pledge to stay away. I had a feeling he would hold me to our pact, and that made me want to take it back.

  There was something to be said for a little restraint, though. The idea of appearing in public, somewhat official, brought a whole new set of fantasies that I’d dared not imagine before now. I pictured the next date, the one after, visiting him in Dallas, talking until the wee hours of the morning when we had to be apart. For the first time, I imagined a future in which Levi played a substantial role.

  “Can you promise me something?” he asked. “I’ve always looked out for my sister, even before I understood what happened at the church that night. Now I know I’m not equipped to look out for her. Not the way you can.”

  In the low light of the study, the lines of gold in his eyes danced with concern. He could have persuaded me to
promise anything.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to put her in a better position to protect herself?” I asked.

  “And have her come out looking like that?” he asked, stroking a bruise on my arm the size of a plum. “She’s not like you, Nat. She’s not gutsy. She’s tender. Breakable.”

  I didn’t know how to take that. Did he think I wasn’t? Did he think none of this disturbed me, just because I was capable of accepting it?

  But maybe he was right. I liked fighting the Woodwalkers. I liked learning about magic. I felt more like myself now than I ever had.

  “I can’t lose anyone else I care about,” he whispered. “Please look out for her.” His gaze lifted to connect unflinchingly with mine. “Please look out for yourself.”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  SEVEN DAYS UNTIL THE CLAIMING

  Two more boys got Shadowed.

  Neither happened on my watch, but I felt the reverberations. One of their names I recognized from my old church youth group, and the other I didn’t know.

  I’d quit my job at the catfish buffet and told my parents I was babysitting for Kate again. But I spent my time absorbing knowledge from the Book of Wisdom and off-duty Wardens. Some days I sat in Heather’s cozy bakery while she worked, the Book of Wisdom glamoured next to my coffee. She would patiently answer my incessant questions, pausing only when the door over the bell dinged, signaling a customer. The academic fervor that I’d applied to my favorite classes I now turned to the task of becoming a good Warden.

  After dusk I hunted the Woodwalkers. I started to hunger for the night I used to fear.

  It sounded sick when I admitted it to myself. But I knew that the others had to take an ounce of pride in this to survive. I had always relished the discomfort of shin splints and the ache of tired lungs because they meant I was strong. Now I relished the burst of Woodwalker bones that followed the squeeze of my trigger, the crunch of a skull beneath my boot, my magic surging to meet my commands when I spoke the right words.

  Tonight, Lindsey, Vanessa, and I had followed dark roads branching off to emptier dark roads like roots reaching deep into black soil. Our senses were attuned to the scent of death, and we had found two Woodwalkers lurking near a lone country house. We broke their bodies easily, banishing their shadow forms back to the woods, and we only had a few cuts and bruises to show for the encounter.

  The wind combed through my hair, turning the sweat on my scalp cold as I stuck my head out the car window. My thumb brushed fondly over the engravings on my revolver.

  Another dark car flashed its lights at us from the shoulder of the deserted country highway. We pulled to a stop as Kate rolled down her window. Brianna sat in the passenger seat, keeping an eye on the woods.

  “The Triad said for y’all to take the night off,” Kate said.

  Lindsey cocked her head as if she hadn’t heard right. “We’re a week out from the Claiming.”

  “Exactly. We need everyone fresh. You’re the only ones who haven’t gotten a night off this week. At this rate you’ll be useless.”

  I’d learned that long hours were the price we paid for being eighteen, with no spouses, kids, or protective parents. My parents had never kept me on a short leash, but this summer, they had unhooked me entirely. I had no curfew, and they didn’t pry.

  For the Wardens, a lack of familial oversight translated to constant overtime. I seemed to come home only to catch a nap and shower. Whenever I could, I’d drop by the Langfords’ to reinforce the wards and spells and look in on Emmy. My every free minute was captive to the promise I’d made to Levi. Rest came last on the priority list.

  When Kate drove away, Vanessa leaned forward and put her elbows on the console. “Everybody’s out at Tejas,” she said. “Do we want to go?”

  “I want to sleep,” Lindsey said.

  “You know the first thing they’ll do if they find a dozen bodies?” Vanessa numbered off on her fingers. “Ask who was acting reclusive, who recently changed their social habits, who would be secretive enough to get away with murdering twelve people and leaving no trace—”

  “There won’t be any bodies,” Lindsey snapped.

  “Of course not,” Vanessa agreed. “But self-preservation is a good argument for living a little.”

  “Is this about Bryce?” Lindsey asked, making eye contact with Vanessa in the rearview mirror. “Because the bones told you to stay away.”

  “I just want to make sure he’s not Shadowed,” she said. “That’s all. Levi’s there. Nat wants to go, too.”

  Lindsey slung a testy, tired look in my direction.

  “Abbie and Faith are going to put my face on a milk carton if I don’t show up somewhere.” I showed her my phone and scrolled through the bank of unanswered texts. Only one of them was from Levi. It read, Be safe out there, okay?

  We hadn’t had time for the date and had somehow stuck to our guns on the pact, which was basically torture.

  Lindsey griped about needing a shower as she turned toward downtown. Ignoring her, I texted Levi. So, I know it’s not an official date, but I’m coming tonight. Can it count? Please?

  Hmmm, he typed, and I could feel him smiling through the text. Let’s say it counts, but you owe me another date. Where I pick you up and say hi to your parents and wear something nicer than…what I’m wearing.

  Deal.

  And then I started to type, After this is all over…and erased it. I didn’t want to jinx anything.

  Thankfully, I’d stocked up my supply bag. I cleaned off the sweat and dirt with wipes, tousled my sandy hair, and changed into pedestrian clothes. Vanessa donned jewelry, slapdash eye makeup that turned out perfect thanks to her steady artist’s hand, and a colorful headband. Lindsey wore black, barely even pretending to have a life outside of being a Warden anymore.

  Tejas Grill was the only spot that stayed open late enough to slake the town’s thirst for beer and socializing. Tonight, it seemed like half of our graduating class was there. I presented my driver’s license to the doorman and received a giant dash on the back of my hand in permanent marker, but the power I possessed to defy him made me feel deviously smug. If I wanted to drink, I could have easily glamoured my birth date or even my face. As I developed my repertoire of spells, the possibilities felt endless.

  Craning my neck, I found Levi by a pool table, wearing dark jeans and a hunter-green tee. He and Abbie were playing doubles against Grayson and Emmy. When he noticed me, he grinned from ear to ear. I couldn’t help but mirror the expression.

  Bryce sat at a booth with Faith, a junior girl, and one of Emmy’s friends, and he turned ashen upon seeing Vanessa. As we approached the group, I could tell she was scanning him for a second shadow, but it was hard to see through the muted light and the haze of fajita smoke. Bryce glued his gaze to his menu.

  “I see y’all do know how to read a text, since you showed up.” Abbie propped against the table with a cue stick, lips pursed, but I knew she was only posturing.

  “I’m sorry, Abs.” I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. “It’s the summer before college. We have to get used to not seeing each other every day.”

  “Well isn’t that sweet,” she muttered, tugging my hair. I knew she’d already forgiven me again.

  “Nat, how did you get that bruise?” Emmy asked.

  I examined the mottled mark on my forearm. She shouldn’t be able to see it. I imagined the gifted blood in her veins sniffing at the beguilement, detecting something off about the ruse. “I was jogging in the woods and got whipped by a branch,” I said.

  “Ouch,” Emmy replied. I met her hazel eyes and saw dark circles, a haunted expression beneath the cheerful varnish. I wondered if her magic had caused more episodes. Her mother hadn’t done her any favors, keeping her away from us.

  “Hey,” Levi said into my hair, his hand briefly brushing the small of my back. “Lindsey, you want to take over for me?” He offered her his cue stick.

  She shrugged. “Yeah, I’ll give it a shot.” Code f
or giving Grayson a run for his money.

  The rest of us squeezed into the booth, everyone taking pains to make sure Bryce didn’t have to sit next to, or directly across from, Vanessa. Levi and I ended up together next to Bryce, while Vanessa squeezed in beside Faith. Thankfully, a waitress breezed by to hand out more waters and menus before the awkwardness had a chance to rear its ugly head.

  “What have y’all been up to?” Faith asked.

  “I’ve been shut up in my room working on some digital paintings for my portfolio,” Vanessa lied.

  “I’ve been at home, mostly,” I said. “I’m at Lindsey’s mercy because my truck’s still in the shop.”

  “Well, you could be at my mercy,” Faith said. When her elastic goodwill finally reached its limit, it could snap like a stinging rubber band.

  “I had homework for my summer course,” I said.

  Ah, the made-up summer course. It had been my saving grace. But apparently, Faith had heard enough of that one. “It’s a core-credit class! How demanding could it possibly be?”

  “You’d be surprised…” I trailed off when someone kicked my shin under the table. I looked up to find Vanessa’s bright brown eyes sending me some kind of secret signal. I was worried I’d said something wrong until she jerked her head. Taking the hint, I found Ryan Ashland sitting at a table across the pool hall, staring at us.

  He didn’t look like Ryan Ashland. His normally shoulder-length, greasy brown hair had been groomed short and neat, but not in a “he cleans up nice” way. It was slicked to the side, old-fashioned, like he’d stepped straight out of a time machine. Instead of his usual sweat-stained tee shirt and jeans, he wore a collared button-up tucked into slacks. I might have thought he was heading off to an interview, except that it was a quarter till midnight. A glass of water sat on the table in front of him rather than his usual beer. Ryan’s brother was the bartender, and whenever Ryan had bothered to show up to class, he’d always bragged about how he could get anyone a drink here.

  A sickeningly rare steak stewed in its own juices on his plate. He conscientiously rolled up his shirtsleeves and cut his first bite. As he chewed, he closed his eyes and sighed like he had never tasted anything so heavenly.