by Bree Moore
Violet let out a harsh laugh. “Now it’s phone calls day and night, answering machines and secretaries keeping me from talking to those who once supported us fully. Emails go unanswered for days, and the responses are canned and vague.” She brought her fingers to her lips. “I can’t remember the last time I slept. Did you know that?”
Harper slowly shook her head side to side, her pulse increasing. Violet was acting crazy; what could a mad witch be capable of?
“Damn him!” Violet shrieked and struck the table with a closed fist, rattling the jars on its surface. She brought her head up, crimped hair hanging in curtains that almost covered her eyes. “And you’re just like him. I should sign off on your release right now. You could be someone else’s problem. Someone else’s boon.”
She paced around the table at the center of the large room. It was as if Harper didn’t exist anymore, and she was talking to someone else, or herself.
“Someone else’s reward. And they will think I’m weak. Word will get out. Another resident Violet couldn’t handle. Someone else will take over. Someone harder, someone bad. What will they do to my precious ones?” Her lips trembled, and her eyes widened in horror, then she crumpled.
Harper backed away, and a board creaked under her feet. Violet’s head snapped up.
“You!” She hissed. Her arms crawled along the edge of the table as she walked. Her green eyes dug into Harper’s. “You could have cost me everything. You won’t do it again.” The storm in Violet’s eyes raged. The air thickened, swirling around and lifting her hair slightly. A crackle of energy flickered in Violet’s upturned hand. The beginning of a spell.
“What are you going to do about it?” Harper growled and flexed her fingers, wings stretching behind her.
Violet’s face darkened and thick black lines appeared on her forehead, hooding her eyes. The air collapsed around us, like a black hole had opened up in a corner of the room. “You wanted me to heal you, and I will, pretty bird. But this time you won’t ever fly again.”
“Violet.” A male voice barked the word and the room immediately brightened. Violet’s face returned to normal, creased only with an expression of grief so profound Harper had to wonder if she was looking at the same person. Her hand drifted, trembling, to her mouth, and she covered up a gasping sob.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, then ran out of the room, passing Petrov standing at the door.
“You’ll have to forgive my wife,” he said with an eerie calm. “She is under a terrible amount of stress.”
More like insanity. Harper sagged against the table behind her, shaking at the thought of what that witch had nearly done.
Petrov cleared his throat. “Allow me to do the healing spell for you?”
Harper jerked her head up. “Go to hell,” she snarled.
Petrov raised his hands. “Okay, I get it. After that I wouldn’t trust me either. I just… I do not want to see you suffering. Could another witch do it? Perhaps Lilith?”
Harper’s jaw tensed, and she opened her clenched fingers. Lilith, she would allow. She was the only one in this damned place who didn’t make Harper feel like a commodity. Harper gave a curt nod.
Petrov reached in his pocket and pulled out a cell phone, showing it to Harper before he held it to his ear. He’s afraid I’m going to attack him.
His green eyes stared into Harper’s, but he didn’t move or speak until Lilith picked up. “Yes, Lilith, could you report to the apothecary please? Yes, immediately.” He hung up, dropping the phone back in his pocket, then turned toward the bench and began putting items away and pulling others out, straightening jars and various rocks as he went.
“Please shift into human form,” he said. Harper narrowed her eyes. “I am merely helping this move more quickly by getting things ready, Harper. I will not touch you.”
Despite his assurances, Harper crossed her arms and waited, the shield of her wings at her back giving her more comfort than she cared to admit.
Petrov spoke again. “Violet is really quite a warm person, I want you to know. Most everyone likes her. You caught her at a bad time.”
Harper didn’t feel obligated to speak. The heavy feeling in the room lifted slightly, but there was still something there, a sense of ill-will. What would she have done if Petrov hadn’t walked in?
“She’s dangerous,” Harper muttered.
“We all are, in our way.”
“Not that way.” Harper swallowed. “She needs to see someone. Maybe those paranormal shrinks you people are so fond of here.”
Petrov whirled on her with a furious expression on his face. His arms trembled, and for a moment Harper wondered if she’d just uttered her last words.
Lilith walked into the room, glancing between Harper and Petrov with concern on her face. “What’s going on here? James?”
He broke out of the stare and shoved some bandages at Lilith. “She needs the healing wards. And tell her to stay the hell out of the sky for twelve hours this time.”
“Oh, my.” Lilith muttered, watching him leave. The wood door slammed behind him, making them both jump. “Let’s clear the air, shall we?” She took down a wide jar filled with tied bundles of leaves and put one in a bronze bowl. A small purple flame sparked from her finger and lit the bundle. Smoke wafted into the air, and gradually, the desperate feeling lifted.
“There.” Lilith smiled. “Sage always makes things better, don’t you think?”
Harper made a small sound, something she hoped sounded like agreement. She brought her wings in before Lilith asked, knowing it was coming. She winced as they shrank, sliding past her wounds.
“Why does it hurt so bad?”
“You interrupted the healing process. It’s quite delicate. Though I’m sure Mr. Miller appreciates what you did.”
Harper sat in silence, unsure of what to say—especially since his phone bulged in her pocket. Her shoulders twitched.
“Hold still a minute longer,” Lilith said.
“Sorry,” Harper muttered. The sigils stung as Lilith placed them, working swiftly. Harper wondered why she hadn’t done the wards in the first place. She seemed skilled enough.
“I thought you weren’t good at personal wards?” Harper said.
“Oh, I’m not. These are healing sigils. We all have our gifts. Violet and James are protectors. I’m a healer. I think you’ll find you can shift by lunch tomorrow.” She cleaned off Harper’s back with a damp cloth and stretched the bandages. “We’ll wrap your shoulders. It will serve as a reminder for you to avoid shifting.”
Harper jiggled her hand at her side, impatient to talk to Tyson about Violet. As a therapist, he might know what the hell made her act that way. Then Harper would ask about Becca.
Lilith kept talking, bringing the bandaging up and over each shoulder in an x-shape. Harper raised her arms at the witch’s prodding. “You don’t have to like Violet, but you should appreciate her. She works hard to keep the government from tightening their restrictions on camps like ours. They want more monitoring, more limitations for naturalized paranormal citizens. Some want to do away with the programs entirely and give the Hunter Guilds and mercenaries free reign. The world is a horrible place for a paranormal to live in. She doesn’t want to worry our residents, the new ones especially.”
Her words hit a place inside Harper that she didn’t want to acknowledge. Everything was easier if she only had herself to worry about. She couldn’t afford to become some kind of paranormal activist.
Harper’s shoulder blades itched, and she resisted the urge to scratch at the bandaging. It criss-crossed on her back, binding her shoulders and chest over the tanktop she wore. She could hardly forget it was there.
Lilith’s hand landed softly on Harper’s shoulder. “All of our residents have a hard time at first. I imagine it was difficult to hear that your brother was here, and now he’s gone.”
Harper closed her eyes in a long, slow blink. Yes, it was hard. Damn
. She’d be lying if she said otherwise. But she would find Quinn again, and Tyson would help, one way or another.
Thinking about that gave Harper an idea.
“Maybe…maybe I could talk to Ty - Mr. Miller about it?” Harper said, trying to sound hesitant and uncertain.
Lilith brightened. “That’s why we have him! Yes, if you’re comfortable sharing with him, please do. Don’t keep it bottled up inside. If you make an effort to get to know the other residents and attend your classes, everything will fall into place.”
“And give Violet some space.”
Lilith tossed her blonde hair over her shoulders, laughter bubbling out of her. “Yes, and that.”
“Do you know anything else about my brother?”
“I wondered when we would get to that.” She tucked her hair behind her ears, and Harper wondered how old the witch was. Her face seemed youthful and timeless, as if she would never age a day. “I’ve put a meeting with me in your schedule tomorrow. Come see me here, in the apothecary.”
“All right.”
“Less chance of being interrupted if it’s scheduled,” Lilith said cryptically. “Have a good night, Harper.”
Harper took that as her cue to go, heading for the door. She would be thrilled to never see the inside of that room again, but she needed answers. Tomorrow, she would have them.
A hand waved in front of Harper’s face, and she blinked, eyes clearing. Tyson. Just who she wanted to see.
“Harper? You all right?”
His concern caught her off guard. “Yeah, fine. Uh…How’s your face?”
“Stiff. Moving my mouth is sort of difficult.” He touched his jawline, which Harper noticed had a layer of fine growth coming in. Was it soft? Or prickly?
A memory. Rubbing her hand on her dad’s face, sitting on his lap. It scratched when he kissed her.
Harper shook the memory out of her head. Focus, Harper. “I, uh, wanted to talk to you.”
Tyson visibly startled, blinking as he looked at her. “You do?”
“Yep.” Harper grabbed his arm and dragged him down the hallway. Two girls headed toward them from the top of the stairs. They giggled to each other, and Harper realized how it looked, dragging the camp counselor around. She dropped his arm like it had burned her.
Tyson rubbed it. “So, to my office, then?” he said.
Harper marched down the hall ahead of him and waited impatiently until he caught up with her at the locked office door.
“So, what did you want to—”
“Violet is unstable. She attacked me in the…” Harper waved her hand toward the ceiling, forgetting the word.
“Apothecary?” Tyson supplied.
She snapped her fingers. “Yes, that. She acted legitimately crazy, Tyson. She threatened to ground me.”
His shoulders relaxed, and he snorted. “Ground you? Like, the way a mom would, or…?”
“You’re supposed to take this seriously.”
Tyson straightened. “Yes. You’re right.”
Harper crossed her arms. “She threatened my wings.”
“That doesn’t make sense.” He frowned. “I mean, Violet gets frustrated like anyone else. Isn’t she doing some solstice, er, retrograde work right now? That has to be it. Everyone gets crazy during the retrograde.” He leaned against his desk and jumped up, sitting so casually he couldn’t be taking Harper seriously.
Then his arms folded and his expression smoothed. “What did you say to her?”
“Why do you assume I did something?”
“Because you attacked me once, if you recall,” he ticked the items off on his fingers, “you have a volatile personality prone to arguing, and you’re very good at pushing buttons.”
“Sorry for that,” Harper said. She meant it. “The attack in the beginning, I mean. I was scared. And pissed off. But I wouldn’t do anything like that now. Violet was completely unprovoked, talking about how it was Quinn’s fault that she was stressed and not sleeping. She was furious that I tried to do the same thing. She said it would mean the end of the camp.”
Tyson blew air from his lips. “She’s probably telling the truth, there. The administrators have hounded her from day one to keep this place in top notch running order. If they had a reason to doubt it, well, Violet would take the brunt of that. She started this place as a sanctuary for paranormals during the Reveal. When the government tried to break through and take those she protected, she got the place licensed. Then the Naturalization laws passed, and it all started going downhill.”
“I thought she supported Naturalization.”
“She does because she has to in order to keep the Hunters out. It’s part of her agreement with the government. They even fund it now. She’s fought for everything we have here, including my job.”
Harper couldn’t wrap her head around it, imagining Violet fighting for paranormal rights when she had just lost her marbles in the apothecary. “But why?”
Tyson clasped his hands together. “Because some people actually mean it when they say they care. Look, I’ve been here for two years. Long enough that I understand what Violet has gone through to keep this camp running. She does her best, and so do the rest of us. I know you don’t like our methods, but if there were another way—a better way—we would change in a heartbeat.”
He rubbed a hand down his face and seemed to be considering what to say next. “Violet, James, and Lilith all feel the same way. No one forced them into the positions they’re in. Violet often expresses how she wishes her job didn’t exist, but that doesn’t mean she wants to help you any less.”
Harper heard what he was saying, but she wasn’t ready to believe him. “Why threaten me, then?”
Tyson frowned, shaking his head. “Something must have happened. It could have started with your brother’s escape. How competent does that make Violet look, since it’s her wards he had to break through to get out?”
“Yeah. I wonder how he did that?” A smirk twitched across Harper’s face. “I mean, my brother isn’t magic-savvy. He doesn’t have secret ward-breaking abilities. How did he get through a powerful witch’s wards?” She watched Tyson for his reaction.
“I told you, I’m not giving out the details.”
“Because you don’t know. But you do know who helped him.” Harper pulled his phone out of her pocket.
“You stole my phone?” He slid off the desk and reached for it.
Harper danced out of reach. “You dropped it outside. I’m happy to return it. For a price.”
He frowned. “That’s blackmail. I should turn you in right now.”
“Violet would love to hear it. Go ahead.” Harper shook the phone in the air. She had him right where she wanted him. “You have an email from her. From Becca. She’s your cousin, right?”
Tyson sat back into his office chair, letting it drift around in a half-circle. He ran his hand through his brown hair, making some of it stand up. Finally, his eyes refocused on Harper and he held out his hand.
“May I have my phone back?”
“Will you help me find Quinn?” It was a long shot, but she was going off a hunch.
“Harper, I can’t do that. My job, everything would be at stake.”
“I didn’t say to help me escape. I just want to know that my brother is safe.” Harper interlocked her fingers. “It’s one small favor for someone who recently saved your life.” She resisted batting her eyelashes. She wasn’t begging.
“You know that you’re the reason I was out there in the first place?” He sounded irritated, but a smile twitched at the corner of his lips. Harper let out a whoop.
“Hey, shhh!” Tyson gestured. His face creased with worry. “I’ll talk to Becca and find out if she knows what happened to him. But that’s it. I won’t go looking for him, and I won’t give you a free ticket out of here. I’m stepping way out of line as it is.”
Harper sat down in a chair across the desk from him and flexed h
er fingers around his phone, then slid it across the desk toward him. “So. Becca.”
“You do understand what you’re asking me to do, right?” He tapped the back of his phone.
“Yes. Help me find my brother. Reunite a family. It’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
Tyson gave her a disapproving look. “You’re twisting my words.”
“What about Becca? Don’t you want to help her? Or do you plan to report this to Violet?” Harper gestured to the phone. Tyson leaned forward and picked it up. His eyes flickered back to her.
“Becca is my cousin. Of course I want to help her.”
“If she’s anything like you, it’s a wonder she ended up with my brother.”
“Who said she was ‘with’ your brother? You know what, never mind. We’ll sort truth from rumor soon enough.” He adjusted his seat in the office chair and slid the screen lock off. “For your information, she’s nothing like me. She’s obsessed with paranormals, for one. Absolutely loves them in a geeking-out, spends free time researching different types sort of way.”
“And you don’t?” Harper raised her eyebrows. “I mean, why choose a career working with us, if that’s the case?”
He stared at me, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.
Harper jutted her chin toward his phone. “So, what’s the message about?”
“I don’t know.” He stared at the screen like a snake hid inside waiting to bite.
“Well, take a look, duh.” Harper crossed her arms and leaned against the back of the chair, tipping the front legs into the air. The bandages pulled tight across her chest and back, and the healing wards beneath them made her shoulders itch furiously. The kind of itch that only resolved when she shifted, but that wasn’t possible right now. She needed something to take her mind off it.
“You want me to read it right now?”
Harper didn’t respond, just jabbed a finger at his phone. Tyson sighed and unlocked the device.