by KC Kingmaker
My brain didn’t register that he wasn’t there anymore. Mouth falling open, I couldn’t stop my momentum. My knee crunched into the brick wall where he’d just been.
I cried out in pain.
Limping away, out of the lampshade, I looked all around the alley: left, right, up, down.
My assailant was nowhere to be found.
He had literally disappeared into thin air after I’d pushed him.
My adrenaline started crashing. Sweat slicked my skin, mixing with the humidity of the night air. I breathed heavily. On a sound, I spun around again.
The door to Jose’s opened and I bared my teeth like an animal and raised my fists.
Marlow’s eyes widened into saucers, hands flying up. “Holy shit, don’t shoot!”
My fists fell to my sides. I leaned my forehead against the brick wall, still limping from my pained knee. It was starting to throb, hurting a whole lot worse.
“Christ on a cracker, Cor, what the hell happened? You look like you either just saw a ghost or fucked one!”
I opened my mouth and pointed behind me. No words came out. My head swam. Doubt mingled with the horrible notion that my best friend would think I was crazy, and I couldn’t let that happen.
Maybe I am crazy, and everything that just happened was alcohol-induced delirium? “S-Sorry, Mar. I thought I was gonna puke for a second. Had too much to drink I guess.”
She canted her head, eyes narrowing like she was studying me and trying to decide if she believed me.
“I was dry heaving,” I explained, digging the lie deeper.
She sighed and walked over, then put a hand on my shoulder. “Jeez, girl, what happened to pacing yourself? You really are a lightweight! Come on, let’s get you home. Can you make it into an Uber without spilling your guts and costing us a four-hundred-dollar cleaning fee?”
“JUST SAW A GHOST.”
Yeah, no kidding. Marlow was right. I had no reasonable explanation for what had happened, and it was arguably not even the strangest event of my twenty-first birthday.
Plus, the night wasn’t over yet.
I checked my phone when we got into the safety of the Uber. It was only ten o’clock. During the entire car ride home, I sat in the backseat with clenched fists, while Marlow sat shotgun, talking the ear off our driver.
I couldn’t get the feeling of that shadowy man’s rough hands off me. Or his smell, which I’d only noticed once he was gone. Fir trees. Like he’d just been skipping through a Christmas tree lot. It was a hell of a thing to be getting strangled by a man that reminded you of hot cocoa, wrapped presents, and big red stockings. Not that I ever saw much of those things when I was younger. But where the hell do we have fir trees nearby?
I couldn’t clock it. I was quickly giving up trying. It had been a hell of a night and I figured I’d be able to think logically on everything that had happened once I got a good night’s rest. No more partying for a while.
We got out of the Uber at our cabin in the Crust and stumbled toward the door. Marlow was slaughtering a song by Adele that had been playing in the car, her voice high and warbly, as if she’d forgotten all her worries in the minutes it took to get home.
Wish I had that superpower.
Instead, I had a serious problem with over-thinking and over-analyzing. The psychic trance, the man disappearing into a wall . . . these were things that couldn’t be explained. One might say . . . supernatural.
Once inside, I crashed onto the couch in our tiny living room. Marlow escaped into the kitchen. Her safe space. A moment later, I heard the coffee machine whirring.
“Damn, Mar, are you making coffee right now? You’ll never sleep,” I said.
She appeared with a steaming mug cradled in her hand, a content-as-a-Buddhist-monk look on her face. “On the contrary, young Padawan. It’s my life hack for getting rid of hangovers. You see, by the time you wake up the next morning, it’s too late. You’ve got to—”
A knock came at the door.
A flashback of my attacker in the alley swept through my brain and my whole body went stiff as I jolted upright on the couch.
Marlow’s mouth was agape from being cut off midsentence. “What the hell.”
“Goddamn, hasn’t this day already been long enough?” I moaned.
I stood from the couch on wobbly legs. My knee hurt like the dickens and I knew it would be swollen in the morning. No coffee would cure that one.
“Who is it?” I demanded, voice harsh. “Do you have any idea what time—”
“It’s me, Coralia,” said the voice on the other side.
Unmistakable. Familiar. Female.
My blood ran cold, not for the first time that night.
Anger rose inside me. My forehead vein pulsed and my fingernails bit so hard into my palms I thought they’d bleed.
“Um, Cor, you all right?” Marlow asked.
Bracing myself, I swung the door open.
A woman who looked slightly like me, but much older and nastier, stood in front of me.
I clenched my jaw. Any remnants of drunkenness I’d felt after my melee with the alley guy flooded away.
“What the fuck do you want?” I snarled. “I haven’t seen you in three years, so you’d better not be here to wish me happy birthday . . . Mother.”
Her upper lip twitched. Her face fell slightly, and it gave me a twisted sense of satisfaction to see the pained expression.
“Coralia, it’s nice to see you too.”
I said nothing, simply canting my head in the hopes she’d get out of my sight before it came to blows.
“You haven’t picked up any of my calls,” she said.
“Changed my number. Didn’t get them.”
“I had to track you down.”
“Boohoo. You have five seconds to get off—”
“I’ve gotten word from Myria’s academy, Coralia. Your sister has gone missing.”
Chapter 4
Coralia
I DENIED MY MOTHER entry into the house. I didn’t want her cloying vileness to rub off onto the couch cushions or suck out the air.
It might have been harsh, but I didn’t care. After how she had treated me growing up—acting like I was a nuisance, unworthy because I wasn’t special and supernatural like Myria, and not helping me with any of the struggles a mother was supposed to help her teenage child with—I felt it was the least she deserved.
Plus, I had some heavy thinking to do. I didn’t need Nora Hargrave slithering her way into my head.
Out of sight, out of mind.
I paused for a moment, mulling over her words. I met her challenging gaze with a blank expression. “Sorry to hear it.”
She opened her mouth to say something and I slammed the door in her face.
Behind me, Marlow’s voice: “Whoa. Cold-blooded.”
My mom yelled through the door, “Coralia, don’t be a child!”
“Sorry, no one taught me how to grow up!” I yelled back, my forehead inches from the door.
“I haven’t come all this way—”
“To have a door slammed in your face? Looks like you have!”
“She’s your sister!”
I said nothing. I was tempted to say “Googoo gaga, bitch,” to rub in her “child” comment, but I didn’t need to give her more ammunition.
After a few minutes of mumbling, knocking erratically on the door, and the sound of her shifting her feet, Nora let out a loud huff of exasperation and left the stoop.
I didn’t care where she was going. I was just happy she was gone.
When I turned around, Marlow was ready to jump in, her mouth already open.
I raised a finger to shush her. “Not a word, Mar. I don’t need anyone interjecting in my family life.”
She shrugged like it was the easiest thing in the world to resist. “I was just gonna call you a bad bitch. If I ever tried to do that with my mom—”
“Yeah, well, there’s a reason we’re estranged, okay? I don’t appreciate her
coming here unannounced like that. If I had known, I would have moved.”
Marlow’s cheeks sank, sadness welling in her eyes.
I wrapped her in a hug. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I wouldn’t leave you. Especially not at the mercy of that harpy.”
“Okay, good.” She let out a big sigh in my ear. “What about your sister, Cor? She’s missing? That sounds scary.”
I pulled her to arm’s length, gnawing on my lower lip. “I know. I need to think this through.”
“Can I help?”
I studied the genuine earnestness written on her face and gave her the warmest smile I could muster considering the circumstances. I rubbed her shoulder. “I’ll definitely let you know if you can, babe.”
She smiled. “Okay. Good.”
I plopped down on the couch and tipped my head to stare up at the stucco ceiling. Something about the monotony of the design let me dig deep into myself, trying to recall everything I knew about Myria’s current situation.
I ran a hand over my brow and rubbed my temples.
“What’s next?” Marlow asked.
My shoulders rose and fell. “I have to find her, Marlow. I have to go looking for her. She’s my sister.”
“I know. For sure. But do you know where she is?”
I tilted my head to look at Mar, who started pacing in front of the couch while biting her nails. It seemed she was going to help whether I asked for it or not. Have to love the girl’s spirit.
“Therein lies the problem, my dear Watson,” I said dryly. “All I know is Myri was at some top-secret magical graduate school or something. I don’t even know its name!” I punched the cushion next to me in frustration.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she said, pumping her palms out to try and get me to calm down. “I’m sure we can figure it out. Maybe we can reach out to someone?”
“In the Crust? Who the hell here would know anything about supernatural universities? Brad from Lindon’s?”
She snorted. “Good point. Okay. Maybe we get on social media?”
“And put this on blast? No. I feel like there’s a reason my mom came to tell me in person.”
“Yeah, she said she couldn’t reach you on the phone,” Marlow said pointedly.
“Oh yeah.” I bobbed my head left and right. “Still. Mum’s the word until I know more. If I could just figure out what school she goes to, maybe I could infiltrate it or something . . .”
“Okay, Jane Bond, I don’t know if that’s a good idea. There’s a reason they keep these places secret from us mere mortals.”
I grunted. “What, you think they’d kill me?”
“If they discovered a human on their campus? I mean . . . your sister is missing, right?”
“She’s not a human. I mean . . . not fully. I don’t think.”
“Exactly. Now imagine what they’d do if they found your pasty ass snooping around.”
“Fair point.” I rubbed my chin. “You think the school has something to do with her disappearance then?”
Marlow shrugged. “I’m just spitballing, girl. Maybe she got in with a bad crowd. Maybe she made enemies she shouldn’t have. It’s all speculation at this point.”
“Yeah, and I feel like the longer we—I—speculate without doing anything, the more danger she’s gonna be in.”
She rubbed her hands together, a mischievous look dashing across her face. “When we find this place, I want to come with you, Cor. I can help. Two heads are better than one, right?”
I was already shaking my head. “Marlow, I can’t drag you into—”
“I wanna help, dammit! The Crust is so fucking boring. Give me some excitement for a change.”
My eyes narrowed. “This is my sister’s life we’re talking about, Mar. This isn’t some game.”
“At least it doesn’t sound like a game.”
I stood up from the couch, frustration rising inside me. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean? You think Myri would fake something like this?”
She waved her hands in the air. “Sorry, I don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m just drunk.”
“I thought the coffee was supposed to help.”
She looked over to a nightstand where her mug sat unattended. “Oh shit, I forgot about it.” When she walked over and took a sip, her mouth fell into an exaggerated frown. “It’s cold now. I’ll have to make some more.”
Before she could retreat to the kitchen, I said, “You do that. I’m going to get some shuteye.”
Her head whipped around. “What? I thought we were burning the midnight oil to get to the bottom of this.”
“We don’t know what this is, Mar. And let’s not kid ourselves: We’re not sleuths. We’re two lost girls working retail at a thrift shop. This is out of our purview.”
Something like déjà vu came to me. Two lost girls . . .
It stopped there and I lost the thread.
Marlow leaned against the frame of the kitchen archway. “You know who might know a bit more about all this? Or help us find the name of the school . . .”
When she trailed off, I took a moment to pick up on what she was putting down. My eyes widened. “No, absolutely not. I’m not asking my mother shit. Plus, she’s gone. You heard her huff and puff and leave.”
“I’m sure we could find her.”
“Goodnight, Marlow.”
I started down the hall. The frustration and anger was threatening to boil me from the inside out. I needed to clear my head and try again in the morning when I could think more logically.
When I got to the door of my tiny room, Marlow’s voice carried down the hall. “Night, birthday girl!”
I smiled despite myself.
Then the thread of my déjà vu came roaring back: Two lost girls . . . “Two twin souls miss the forest for the trees.”
I gasped as I entered my room. Those were words from Madame du Mond’s eerie prophecy, omen, whatever the hell it was.
Is Marlow my . . . twin soul? Is she supposed to be by my side in all this? Are we missing some sort of bigger picture here?
I stripped down, pulled on my nighties, and went to bed. Or tried. Bruce Kittenson perched himself on my boobs until I turned onto my side, and then he cuddled up next to me.
I sighed and rubbed his little furry back. “No, Brucey, you’re my only twin soul. What do you think of that, furball?”
Bruce said nothing. His eyes were closed and he was already in kitty dreamland—somewhere I wanted to go.
After the exhausting day I’d had, it didn’t take long to get there.
MY EYES SNAPPED OPEN. Sweat covered my skin as my eyes roved across the ceiling of my room.
I tried to sit up, but couldn’t.
My heart started beating out of rhythm. It wasn’t that my arms and legs felt sore, it was that I couldn’t feel them at all.
When I opened my mouth to shout for Marlow’s help, my lips wouldn’t move.
Holy shit. Is this sleep paralysis?
A dark circle fell over my face from above, upside down.
A face.
I tried my hardest to scream but couldn’t. I thought I was going to have a heart attack.
“Aw shit,” the man staring down at me said in a frustrated whisper. “You were supposed to be asleep for this. Try not to freak out, please.”
That only made me freak out double-time. Who the hell is this?! Why the fuck is he in my room?! Why does he smell like rain and thunderstorms and why the fuck are all these men’s scents so damn strong?!
“You’re paralyzed, not dying. Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you. It won’t last long.”
I trusted him as far as I could throw him. The blackness of night blocked out his face—a phenomenon becoming unsettlingly common in my life.
“You do have to come with me though,” he said. “I’ve already written your roommate a letter. It says, ‘Off YOLOing.’ Hope that works. If you’re lucky, you’ll see her again.”
If I’m lucky? Marloww
w! Helppp!
The man continued his monologue, scratching his cheek. I got a profile glimpse of his lean, sculpted face, but couldn’t tell much else.
“You’re in pajamas. Well, you won’t need clothes where we’re going”—a chuckle and hand wave—“don’t worry, it’s not because you’re gonna be naked in a dungeon or anything”—his hand faltered in the air and then fell—“actually, I’m not sure that’s true. Scratch that. But, there will be uniforms. That’s what I meant to say. No dungeon, yes uniforms. Good? Good.”
I sincerely hoped this was a dream inside of a dream. But I recognize my room and the walls and—
A soft purr rose next to my ear.
—Bruce Kittenson!
The man reached over my body, grabbed the white flash of fur by the tuft, and lifted him above my body.
Don’t touch my cat, asshole!
“Unfortunately, this little guy can’t come with. We’ve got enough—”
Bruce’s body went stiff and rigid, a hiss escaping his tiny jaws.
“Oh,” my paralyzer-slash-talkative-captor said, head lurching. “It’s like that. Okay. I guess he can come. Who am I to deny another pussy to the mix?” He chuckled at his cringey joke, shaking his head. “Shhh, little guy. We don’t want to wake the roommate, do we?”
Yes we do! Scream for me, Brucey! Wail like a banshee, Mr. Kittenson!
The man’s face fell over mine again, inches away. I could practically taste the crisp dewdrops in his breath. “Ready?”
No!
“Okay, good.”
He dropped Bruce on my stomach, who paced back and forth on my body like he was my guardian protector. Then he found his favorite bosomy nest and curled up.
Traitor! Judas!
The man picked me up bridal style, like I weighed nothing. Not even a grunt. He headed for the single window in my room and then angled off toward a wall.
I couldn’t see anything other than a glimpse of the moonlight over his shoulder, slanting in through the window, bathing half my room in dim yellow.
Before I could blink—or maybe because I blinked—the light vanished and everything went black.
MY EYES OPENED TO MURKY blackness. I blinked a few times but the shadowy pervasiveness didn’t go away. It was like I was looking into a smoke cloud I couldn’t see completely through.