by Emma Hamm
“Yes really. I didn’t know what they were going to do. They only asked for you.”
“That’s stuff you shouldn’t be involved with, Pitch, and certainly something I don’t want to be involved with. You can leave.”
“Wren, I need to talk to you.”
“Absolutely not. I’m not going to talk with you about anything.”
“Why are you being so stubborn? When I tell you I need to talk, I mean it!” His eyes were completely black now. So black that they reflected Wren’s image back at her. She didn’t look as stern as she had hoped. She looked frightened.
“I don’t care, Pitch. I’m not making the same mistake twice. Consider me fully bitten.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
She twirled a finger in the air. “Like a dog. I walked down your street, got bit by a big ol’ nasty dog, and now I am not walking down your street anymore.”
He stared at her as though she had grown a second head.
Wren danced her fingers in the air. “Toodaloo.”
A growl made the people next to them freeze. The sound that ripped out of Pitch’s throat was not human. In fact, it wasn’t a sound that Wren had ever heard anyone make before. If a lion had met a rockslide then it likely wouldn’t have managed to make the same sound.
He didn’t leave her shop. Following in Burke’s footsteps, he stalked to the corner of her shop and settled himself in a booth. His arms crossed firmly over his chest, and he glared at her as though he were trying to set her on fire.
Even Wren wasn’t foolish enough to attempt to move him. Pitch had enough people at his beck and call that he could have her wiped from the face of this earth. The situation was now out of her control. She could refuse to talk to him all she wanted, but eventually he was going to get his way.
Wren went back behind her counter and continued to wipe at the smooth surface. If Burke had been here, he might have been able to take care of Pitch for her. That was not particularly a fight she wished to see, but it would have been something to behold. She didn’t know which one would come out the victor.
Where was the man anyways? He had said the Five would send someone else to try and convince her to work for them, but that didn’t mean he had to leave entirely! She liked to think they had a good thing going. He sat in the corner of her shop, and she sometimes gave him something to drink. They exchanged pleasantries when she first saw him and when he left.
Wren almost groaned aloud. That wasn’t any sort of friendship or relationship, yet it had been perfect for her. He had simply been there. That had been enough.
And now she was alone again with another angry man in her shop. All she could do was wait for someone else to replace Burke and try to convince her to take the job. At this point, she might even say yes.
Her eyes darted over to Pitch. There wasn’t any reason for him to be in her shop. He didn’t visit her, and sometimes she thought he didn’t even like her. Pitch didn’t like anyone.
And yet somehow Burke had managed to get into Pitch’s party just by flashing a badge. Pitch didn’t work for M.O.M. He certainly didn’t follow their laws. It didn’t make sense that Burke could get in on that alone.
She flushed with anger as pieces began to click together in her mind. Burke’s disappearance. Pitch admitting to know who Burke was. Pitch showing up out of nowhere and suddenly sitting in the exact same seat Burke used to sit in.
Her feet were moving. Wren didn’t know when she had moved away from her counter and started stomping towards Pitch. She didn’t recollect making the decision to yell at him, but that was how her life had been going lately. Decisions were being made without her, so it only made sense that her body had jumped on that train.
“Who do you work for?”
His grim expression did not change as her finger pointed in his face. “Watch what you say, little bird.”
“I’m not scared of you, Pitch! Who do you work for?”
The shout seemed to echo in the room as her startled patrons stared. One by one, they stood to leave. Though they would normally be entertained by a fight, no one wanted to see what happened when Pitch got angry.
“Take your finger out of my face,” he growled at her.
“You don’t tell me what to do! Do you or do you not work for the same people as Burke?”
“I don’t.”
“You’re lying to me.” She leaned down to press her palms against the table and leaned over him until their noses nearly touched. “Because that’s what you do. You lie.”
He exhaled, and she could feel the hot breath dance across her face. “You don’t want to make me angry, Wren. I don’t work for anyone that Burke works for.”
Wren stared into his eyes. She hoped that she might be able to see something in those black depths. A flicker of emotion or truth or something that would have helped her understand the man that was glaring back at her.
But there was nothing in his gaze. There never was.
“If you don’t work for them then you need to leave.”
“I have to talk to you, Wren. We have to talk about that night.”
“You mean the night you threw me to the wolves and watched?” She leaned back then, her fists planted onto her hips as she tossed her head back. The laugh that burst forth from her mouth was sarcastic and cruel. “Or perhaps you’re interested to know more about the bodies I left behind? Is that it? You want to peek into my head and figure out the Curiosity?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“Of course you do.” Her lip curled into a sneer. “That’s not your place, Demon. Now get out of my shop before I make you.”
The silent creature within her stirred.
“You can’t follow through on that threat.”
“You did it once, E.” She didn’t bother to hide her conversation. She knew that Pitch was listening and wanted him to hear her. “You can do it again.”
Though the creature inside of her remained silent, she understood that it was unhappy. She had never demanded anything from E. Only that it remain a faithful companion and that she would return the favor. Now that she knew what it was capable of, E worried she would attempt to use it to her advantage.
But she didn’t know what it was capable of. She didn’t know what she was capable of with this creature inside of her.
Pitch stood slowly, smoothed his hands down his chest, and nodded. “Fine then. I’ll leave. But remember this moment and remember that I tried to warn you.”
The sharp thwacks of his boots against her floor slowly faded until she heard the jingling bell of her front door. Only then did the tension ease out of her shoulders, which instantly slumped. Her customers were gone. Her life was falling apart. The man she had considered to be at least a vague sort of friend was gone.
Both of them.
She sighed and locked the door. She wasn’t going to be getting any work done tonight, and she doubted anyone would return. Why would they? They probably thought her shop had already been razed to the ground after the explosion of Pitch’s anger.
The harsh click of the lock on her door sounded like the end of an era. She was going to have to figure out something else to do with her life. There were too many changes; too many oddities were happening around her too recently for her to stay the same.
“You’re feeling sorry for yourself.”
“Of course I am,” she murmured as she turned to look at the shop, which was falling apart. She loved this shop. Even though the ceiling was crumbling and the floor was warped, it had been her home for so long. Every nook and cranny had been patched with her own hands at least once. Her life blood had been poured into keeping this place open.
“Change isn’t always bad.” Today, E’s voice was the one Wren was most familiar with. The voice was that of an older woman. It was a motherly tone that always made Wren compare it to being wrapped in a warm wool blanket with a cup of tea in her hands.
She shook her head. “No it’s not.” As she moved t
owards her apartment, her fingers danced upon the edge of the counter. Long fingers with blunt nails trailed along the dark wood edge as she walked passed in a graceful movement.
“But you are frightened of it?”
“I’d have to be crazy if I wasn’t.” The bottles and vials glinted for a few moments in her eyes as she paused at the stairwell to her apartment. Everything in this place was a reassurance to Wren. It was her home, yes, but it was also her safety blanket. To change these things was to change herself.
“You have never enjoyed change, but it is an essential part of life. We’ll get through this together.”
Wren smiled as she hit the switch for the shop. Darkness fell across her store, but she was not frightened. She was never frightened when she was inside these walls. Nor was she frightened outside of them whenever E was with her.
“Are you feeling better?” she asked as she started walking up the rickety staircase.
“In a manner of speaking. I am still weak.”
She didn’t ask why E was weak. Wren knew that the creature wouldn’t tell her no matter how much she badgered it.
“Do you need to rest more?”
“I grew worried for you. I thought Malachi would have followed us home.”
“Honestly, I thought the same.” It had plagued her for a few days now. There was nothing unusual that she could see, but Wren was jumping at shadows lately. She had not slept well as every wind that whistled past her window made her think someone was going to attack her again.
Her hands skipped over the peeling wallpaper in the stairwell. She had put it up herself when the store had first opened. Wren could still remember the scent of plaster and how many times the sticky wallpaper had fallen over her head. The flowers that decorated the wall had already faded.
“I have been dreaming through your day. I have not noticed anything worrisome.”
E dreamed what Wren saw during the daytime when it rested. Every blink of her eyes fed more information to the slumbering creature inside her head. At first, the knowledge had made Wren uncomfortable. There was no part of her day that was entirely private. She had long since gotten over that worry.
Rounding the steps and walking into her apartment, Wren shrugged. “Maybe he’s not all that interested in me after all.”
A sharp prick on her thigh made her frown. She had already told the stinging nettles that they had to stay in their pot more than once. The dastardly plants were constantly attempting to escape and cause mischief wherever they could. Wren had never met a plant that was such a nuisance.
But when she looked down at her leg, it was not a vine she had brushed against. A metal dart stuck to the muscle in her leg through the worn fabric of her purple skirt. Grey feathers fletched the end and fluttered with her every twitching movement.
“E?” she whispered as horrified fear made her voice tremble.
No voice responded to her plea for help.
“Sorry about that. We heard that your creature was a little stronger than we had anticipated.”
The voice came from her kitchen. Wren’s head swiveled around to see the woman perched on top of her table.
Her legs swung wildly high above the floor. Wren was shocked at how tiny the woman must be. Her black hair was so dark it disappeared into the dim light behind her and reached nearly to her waist. Intelligent blue eyes blinked at her while pale lips smoothed into a soft smile.
“Who are you?” Wren had apparently spoken too soon. Perhaps Malachi had sent someone to get her after all.
“Burke did tell you they’d send us, didn’t he?”
“Us?”
Wren’s eyes darted in the other direction as movement from her window made her heart skip a beat. A man had been leaning against her window sill. He had blended into the darkness so well that she hadn’t noticed him until that moment.
He was taller than she had ever seen anyone, so broad that both her arms stretched couldn’t have wrapped around him. A trimmed beard made his jaw appear sharper than the blade of a dagger. His hair was so long that it tangled around him like a lion’s mane. He was both fiercely handsome and masculine. Yet dangerously so. He made Wren instantly nervous.
“He’s always been a loner,” the woman said as she tsked. “I told him standing in the shadows was too creepy, but he didn’t listen.”
“Are there more people hidden in my closet?” Wren snapped at them. She was buying time until E could wake back up. In her head, she was screaming for help.
“Don’t try to contact the creature,” the woman said as she hopped off of the table. She was a tiny little thing as Wren expected. The top of her head would barely reach Wren’s shoulder. “The dart blocks your two minds from each other.”
“What did you do to me?” Wren started backing away from them. Her eyes frantically searched the room for some kind of weapon to hold against the two strangers. Unfortunately, the only thing she might be able to grab was a broom next to her door.
The tiny woman held her hands out, palm up. “Oh come on, don’t be frightened. We’re just here to bring you back to the Five.”
“I made it clear to Burke that I wasn’t doing that.”
“Sorry.” Wren almost believed she was apologetic when her face twisted into the disappointed expression. “But you don’t have that choice anymore.”
The man moved so quickly that Wren only saw a blur. One moment, her eyes were open, and the next, a blinding pain forced her to close them.
Another needle was sticking out of the side of her neck. She felt it as she dropped to her knees on the floor. Wren had a moment to cry out for E one more time before she fell deep into sleep.
He floated in the black abyss that was the dreaming world. Large bubbles of dreams floated past him but nothing caught his attention. They were all the normal dreams that he would have expected.
Once he thought he had found another candidate. They had been fighting a dragon in their dream and winning. Powerful magic was wielded on their side with insanity riding upon the dreamer’s shoulders. But when he got closer, it wasn’t the creature within the person that was insane. It was the human mind that was insane. He pulled memories from the person’s mind and found they were in a hospital.
Dying.
Jiminy had pulled out of the dream in disgust. He was growing so weak from the lack of food and water that he was forced to linger close to his physical form. No one was going to be found this close to him. The punishment wasn’t helping anyone, but it was an adequate torture for the Dream Walker.
The smoke like form that was Jiminy shuddered for a moment before moving forward once more. A few more dreams and he would be able to call it quits. There was no one like Wren in the dreaming world that he had found in these long days.
A bubble that pulsed with power made him pause as the ripples brushed against his conscious. It wasn’t often that people dreamed so vividly. Most dreams were either entirely black and white or only had small pops of color. The human mind was filing bits of information to remember. The mind didn’t create during the dreaming state. Yet this dream was so vivid that splashes of its colors were leaping into other dreams.
That was odd.
Funneling himself into the dream, he shifted into the form of a bird for a few moments to gain his bearings. There wasn’t much in this dream. Sparse grass covered the ground that seemed dry and barren. Tiny pricks of light danced among the glowing leaves. Fireflies, he imagined, lit up the grooves and shadows. Dead leaves drifted by him as a hot wind stirred them into movement. Though the colors from this dream had splashed towards other dreams, there were very little colors to see here.
In fact, the only color he could see was a faint tinge of red that laced everything around him. Like glowing veins, the color threaded from the ground, the dead trees, even the leaves. Everything seemed to point towards the edge of a cliff that was hung over the amber glow of a city.
Then he saw her.
She was such an odd creature among all of this ruined l
and. Light purple hair swirled at the top of her head like wispy strands of cotton candy. Frayed jean shorts revealed long, pale legs that were covered by ripped black tights. A leather jacket was shrugged halfway down her shoulders. The moonlight glinted off the studs that were imbedded in it.
Even in dreams, she made an effort to look different. But to him, she was beautiful. A foolish, beautiful creature sitting at the edge of a cliff with her legs dangling off of it.
Jiminy shifted from bird to man in the blink of an eye. The breeze made the hairs on his arms stand up even though it was not cold. This place had a darkness to it that he did not like. Yet it appeared to be entirely harmless. He wondered what had brought her to this place.
Her eyes were closed when he moved closer to her. She was rocking slightly forward and back. She was kicking her feet, he realized. He could see her black shitkickers raising in opposite rhythm to each other.
“Wren.”
She didn’t seem to hear him.
“Wren.” He tried again.
She heard it that time. He had startled her so much that she nearly jumped off the edge of the cliff. Only his panicked lurch forward managed to stop her as his hand latched onto her shoulder. Wide eyes stared at him as she tried to catch her breath.
“Jiminy?” she murmured.
“Yeah, what are you doing here?”
“How did you get here?”
“What do you mean?” He was confused. She wasn’t looking directly at him or at least the way that she should. Instead, she seemed to be looking through him. The same way any dreamer would.
“I suppose it doesn’t matter.” She smiled at him, and he was nearly blinded by the joy in her gaze. “Did you not notice them?”
“Them?”
Wren raised a hand to point over his shoulder. He turned to see the glowing lights of fireflies and nothing more. He sighed in relief. For a moment, he had thought he was going to turn around to see that there was someone else in her dream.
“The fireflies?”
“Not fireflies,” she whispered as one danced towards them. Her hands raised to cup the tiny light inside of it. The cracks between her fingers glowed yellow and red. “Memories.”