by L. A. Boruff
Best to move on.
Even though I don’t know how to feel. A man who feeds my mom’s addiction supports us, possibly. Should I celebrate?
A smirk curls my lips. I guess it’s better than the opposite.
I walk behind the house and head through the tree line to the beach. Mom loves to drink on the beach and has specific spots she prefers.
A lot of places. Unfortunately. And most of those places aren’t easy to see unless you’re looking for them, which is why she chose them.
It takes me two hours to find her. Surprisingly, she's under the same pier Callie hid under many weeks before, naked after shifting into her cat. That moment with Callie was such a relief. This moment... it’s different.
I’m so damned relieved to find out my mom is alive and well, but I also hate that this is what we’d come to. The fucking world is ending, and my mom is out drinking and hiding from all of it.
Unable to help myself, I think of Hank’s mom. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, and she’d been caught. She’s a good woman who actually took care of her kids.
"I much prefer the last time I found a woman under this pier," I say in way of greeting.
My mom stiffens at my words and turns to look at me. Her eyes are bloodshot and glazed. Her hair is a mess, and her clothes are dirty.
It’s... sad.
“Will,” and my name is filled with pain. Tears fill her eyes, and she looks like she has no idea what to do.
“I’m glad you’re okay. No one was sure if you’d been taken.” My voice rises just a little. “Or even if you were alive.”
"I’m so sorry." She covers her face and sobs quietly.
I settle into the sand beside her, not sure what to say or do. I can’t tell her it’s okay, because it’s not, but I also don’t want to kick her when she’s down.
She's a mess. She's made horrible decisions. She basically left me to raise myself.
But she's the only parent I've got. What can I do but help her?
I do what I’ve always done.
"Come on, Mom. Let's go home." I don't have a choice. I can't take her back to their caves, even if I knew where that was. Can't take her to my childhood home. It was a risk, me just stopping by there. She can't stay there, even with wards. They know that location. The only reason we've been safe in Callie's cottage is because it's been rented out for years by a human. The King has no reason to realize a witch had moved in there.
I walk with my mother's hand in the crook of my arm. We talk as we make our way back to Callie's. We're out of room, but we can drag a mattress from the Firehouse and put her in the living room. What other choice do we have? At least we're all alive.
Mom gasps when we walk into the wards. "This looked like a boarded-up version of this house. I never would've paid it any attention."
With a chuckle, I open the front door. That’s the intent of the wards. "Come on, Mom. Welcome home."
Chapter Fourteen
Callie
"James!" Hank runs in the room with Sugar on his heels. We're working on changing the room around so that Will's mom and Hank's dad can bunk up in there. Of course, Hank’s dad insists Lola have the sofa, but the room is plenty big. We put a small cot from the firehouse in the corner and are working on hanging blankets around each to give them some semblance of privacy. With Fran taking one of the spare rooms and Theresa and her men the other, we're out of room. But nobody dares suggest Fran room with Lola or anyone split up. James, Will, Hank, and I make it work in my queen-sized bed with a couple of cots and trading off time in the bed.
But if we take many more people in, we will have to figure something else out.
"We've got to go help," Hank yells, even though we're right in front of him.
"Help what?" I jump up and grab his hands. "Calm down."
"It's Iris," he says with a wild look in his eyes. "Her shop is on fire and she's trapped inside."
"What?" James roars.
Sugar holds her hands up. "I just found out. They're keeping the flames at bay, but the backup crew that's been replacing your shifts are human. This has got to be a magical fire." They jump up and run from the room, toward the front door.
"Wait," I cry. "You can't just go running off like that! It's probably a trap."
James whirls. "Iris is special to me. I have to go."
“Special?” I repeat.
How is this woman special and I don’t know about her? And who is she that he wants to race off so recklessly? I have to remind myself that we haven’t known each other long enough to know everyone in each other’s lives. Plus, we haven’t made any official declarations. I push my irrational jealousy to the side.
“We’re going to save her,” Will says. “But we can’t be stupid. Let’s get some glamours on and go, at the least.”
James seems to calm down. “Glamours. Right.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” I ask.
All eyes snap to me, but Will is the one to answer. “It’s not worth it. Especially since this is what we do. We don’t need you to risk yourself like that.”
I feel helpless as James and Hank use their powers to glamour the three of them into men I’ve never seen before. Three big guys who look like brothers. Triplets with blond hair, bushy eyebrows, and small noses.
When they’re done, they put on the watches Hank had enchanted, and Fran and Theresa put spells of protection on them. I still don’t feel good about them going out, especially when this whole thing screams of a trap, but I also know that they have to go.
“We’ll be back soon,” Will says, and there’s a promise in his eyes.
“You better be,” I tell him, then force a smile.
Each of my guys gives me a tight hug, and then they head out the door. I stand in the doorway for far too long. Long past the time they disappear from view. Not far in the distance, I see smoke billowing into the darkening sky, and my feeling of unease intensifies.
“Come on,” Fran says softly. She puts her arm lightly around my shoulders.
I don’t want to go. But when I turn to look at her, I can’t form the words. When my grandmother died, this woman had felt like a stranger to me. She’d felt like a shell of a woman. She’d just lost her house. She’d just lost her lover.
I think in her heart, she’d felt she had nothing. Even when she learned that I was the granddaughter her lover had been searching for all those years.
But something about helping the people hiding from my uncle had changed her. It’d given her purpose. And now, now I could see the person my grandmother had loved so dearly. A kind soul with an amazing strength.
If I could, I’d linger by the door all night waiting for my men.
But I let Fran lead me away, and I’m instantly glad I did. Fran’s soft eyes warm, and her arm squeezes me more tightly.
“How about we have some coffee?” Theresa says, studying us.
Fran nods. “I think that would be perfect.”
We head to the kitchen, and I have the strangest feeling. Nothing would be right again until my men come home safely, but there’s something right about this moment. About being with two women who helped to guide my mom so many years ago.
I only hope the end of my story would be different than my mom’s.
“Shall I make it?” Theresa asks.
I shake my head. “You guys sit down. It’ll give me something to do.”
They sit at the small table across from each other, and I see them both smile. Theresa is far younger than Fran, with her tight leather outfits, like something out of an urban fantasy novel, and her dark hair with a streak of purple. While Fran is older, with long brown hair, and a curvy figure. Today she wears a pale blue blouse and comfortable-looking jeans.
On the surface, they seem to have nothing in common. But beneath that, there was something that linked them: love. Fran’s love of my grandmother, and Theresa’s love of my mother.
I’m lucky to have such strong women in my life.
Fran looks toward me, and her smile falls away. “You okay.”
I jerk. “Of course,” then try to remember what I’m doing.
“Coffee,” Theresa says, her voice kind.
I nod and go to the coffee maker.
“What do you need from us, hon?” Fran asks.
"Just talk to me. I need to think about anything else right now.”
Anything except that my guys are going to fight a fire. A magical fire. When my grandmother died in a magical fire. At a time when my uncle is probably behind it, and probably setting up a trap for them.
I realize I’m trembling, panting.
“Hon?” Fran says, and starts to rise.
“Tell me about my mother,” I say.
Fran stares at me for a minute, then slowly sits back down before glancing at Theresa.
Theresa looks uncertain, but she starts to speak. "Did I tell you about the time your mother accidentally turned your uncle into a flea?"
I start the coffee make, then go and sit at the table with the two other women, relieved that it sounded like a story that might sufficiently distract me. We pass the time with Fran and Theresa telling me things about my mother and grandmother that I hadn't known. The back of my mind is a constant panic, worried the King will get his nasty hands on my guys, but I love hearing about the women that gave their lives to protect me. It keeps them alive in my heart.
The guys have been gone almost two hours when my phone rings. Not the private line, the house phone.
I yank the receiver up. "Hello?"
Belatedly, it occurs to me that maybe I should have disguised my voice. Will's voice comes through the line, frantic and out of breath. "We need help down here. There is one watch left. Put it on.
"I can do a powerful glamour and be there—"
"No!" he shouts. "I've got to go. Promise me you won't leave the house."
“Will—”
“Promise me, damn it! I don’t have time for this!” His voice is filled with terror, not anger though.
Which scares me even more.
"I promise."
He hangs up the line, and I stare at the phone for a split second before relaying the information to Theresa and Fran.
They both jump up. "I've known Iris for years," Fran says. "Since we were little. I'll go help, too."
Theresa is up shouting around the house in seconds. People come pouring out of every room. They race down the stairs, and there’s a panicked energy in the room that makes my blood pound.
“Iris’s shop is being consumed by a magical fire, and the boys called needing help!” Theresa explains. “Who will go?”
Everyone’s voices rise at once.
Fran nods. “If we all go, we can get it out quickly and get back here just as fast.”
Her words logically make sense, but as everyone gets ready, I feel strange. I’m supposed to be the one protecting everyone. Instead, I’ll be the one hiding from the danger.
It feels wrong.
"Don't you think if the King's thugs are watching, they'll realize that all these strangers must be people glamoured?" I ask when I see Hank’s dad and Lola glamouring themselves too. "This is dangerous."
"If the guys are asking for help, I’m going to assume it’s bad. It’d be better for us to use our combined magic and put out the fire in minutes rather than a handful of us going and it taking hours. Besides, Iris is beloved by all of us. If she’s in danger, we’re going to help." Eric says, setting a hand on Theresa’s shoulder.
Fran and Theresa hug me, murmuring words of encouragement, and then they head out the door. I wave them out of the kitchen and watch them slip over to the firehouse. In a few minutes, I run to my front window to watch the second fire truck pull out of the bay. Eric is in the driver's seat.
I have no idea if he was supposed to do that, but what's done is done. Now I'm here alone and they're there, fighting a fire almost certainly set by the King.
I should be there.
This is my fight. I'm supposed to be at the helm. How can I let them fight while I'm hiding in fear in my home?
I can't. It's not right. Who ever heard of a Queen not leading her armies?
My mind made up, I glamour myself.
I've seen Fran do the spell of protection many times. It's not that hard, not really. Mostly, I just focus on myself. Then, I expand my senses out and press a curtain of magic around me. When it’s sealed watertight, I open my eyes and release a breath.
When I'm covered, wearing the watch, and looking like the woman I hated most from the last apartment building I lived in, I dart over to the firehouse’s back door.
Finding a fire fighting suit on the wall, I start to pull it on, hoping like hell I’m doing it right. Magic seems to be able to do a lot of things, but it doesn’t make me fire-resistant.
"Excuse me?" A voice from the front of the firehouse has me ducking. It's Sugar.
Thank goodness it’s not someone dangerous.
"I know you're in there," she says in her sassy voice. "I can sense you, Callie-Cat."
With a sigh, I walk out of the dressing room to face the music. She meets me in the hall. "Why aren't you at the fire?" I ask.
"Because they knew you'd pull something like this, and I can't do my magic in front of all the humans and witches all over the place." She rolls her eyes, frustrated. “I’m no more helpful than a human out there.”
I open my mouth to complain about them assuming I'd leave the house when Sugar's statement sticks in my craw. "Wait, why can't you do your magic?" I ask.
"It's obvious. I'm an ice dragon. When I put out a fire with my magic, I actually freeze it. The ice and flames combine to turn the ice into vapor, but it puts the fire out."
The image of what she can do forms in my mind. "That's really cool. I'd love to see you in action one day."
She purses her lips at me and puts one hand on her uniform-clad hip. "What are you doing here, anyway?"
"I can't have them there, fighting, while I'm cowering. What kind of queen does that make me?"
"A smart one," she says. "Just stay here. I'm going to go change." She takes the uniform out of my arms. "You won't be needing that."
"How'd you know it was me?" I ask. She shouldn't be able to see through the glamour or past the spell and watch, especially considering I'd used both.
"I'm a dragon." She stops in the doorway and gives me a knowing look. "You'd be surprised by the things I know and can do."
I smile at her retreating back, amazed. I don't think the guys have any idea half of what Sugar is capable of. If she's that powerful, why does she hide what she is?
"Hello?" A male voice really makes me duck. "Anyone home? I'm looking for someone named Sugar?"
I peek out of the hallway. Hang on. I know that voice.
Benedict stands in the middle of the enormous bay, empty of its two trucks. He's facing the other side of the firehouse, where the kitchen and offices are.
"What are you doing here?" I walk out of the hall. He doesn't know it's me. For all he knows, I'm a secretary here.
"I'm looking for a fire person named Sugar," he explains, striding forward with his hand out.
I shake it and smile. "She's busy at the moment. Can I help you?"
"My name is Bene—" He's cut off by Sugar.
"Dick. I call him Dick." She's changed into one of her normal outfits. A hot pink pair of pants and a tight-as-sin black top with a low neckline. Pair that with the tall, black boots, and she looks awesome.
I wish I could pull that look off.
Benny ignores her dick comment and that smooth smile of his blossoms on his face. "Hey, Sugar. Good to see you. Where is everyone? This place is too quiet."
"There’s a big fire in town," she says. "I'm here babysitting this one." She nods her head toward me.
Benedict studies me. "Oh, of course. Callie?"
My jaw drops as I shoot Sugar an accusing glare. She shrugs. "I've known him for years. He knows me, too. What I am and why I'm hiding
."
Benny smiles. “Yeah, I do.”
Sugar moves closer to him. “But he’s still a dick.”
Benedict pulls Sugar close and kisses her temple. "It’s good to see you too.”
"Why didn't you speak up in his favor when we debated whether or not to trust him?" I ask her.
"Because I don't trust him. I'm fond of him. I do trust him enough to believe he won't rat us out. But Dick here, he's out for one person and one person only. Himself."
Benedict shrugs. "At the moment, I'm only after information. I have no reason to rat anyone out."
"Well, while we're here, would you like to work on your water?" Benedict offers. "Or are you headed somewhere?"
I can't go back home. He'll see where we're staying. I have to wait for him to leave. I need a distraction anyway. "Sure, yeah. That sounds good."
We move over to the kitchen and he gets out a bowl of water. "Have you been practicing?"
I had, as often as possible. "We added water to my routine, yes. I practice everything every day."
He gives me an amazed look. "That's exhausting."
I laugh and agree.
Benedict has a comfortable way about him. Before I know it, we're tossing a ball of water back and forth to each other, laughing. My extreme worry for my friends has subsided. It's still there, but Benedict helps distract me and makes the time pass.
"Excuse me," he says after I throw the water hard enough to need to pull it out of his hair, skin, and clothes. "I need the restroom."
I grin as he heads out of the room, then can’t help but call out, “I hope they have a towel in there!”
He glances back at me. “Offering to dry me off?”
Before I can retort, he’s gone, and I’m left grinning and trying to come up with a good comeback when he returns.
Sugar, who's been sitting at the end of the kitchen table, bored, gives me a pointed look. "Looks like you've got you a fourth, hmmm?"
“A fourth?”
“Man in your life...”
"Oh, stop." I wave her off. Benny is naturally flirty, but he's not into me. It's not a serious flirting. It's friendly. Comfortable. I could see myself becoming fond of Benny, but not love. Not that kind, anyway.