At least... that was what I chose to believe.
4
I should have asked for some time off work. But I couldn’t bring myself to admit that I had been shaken, at least, not to anyone else. David scheduled me for a full week of shifts, including an art show launch on a Saturday night. All things I said ‘yes’ to without really thinking about it.
What I really wanted to do was forget about what had happened, and throwing myself into work seemed like the best option. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I should just lock up my apartment and run straight to the West Coast and disappear again.
Maybe I’d try San Francisco this time.
* * *
I went through the motions of my shift work, counting the days as they went by. Each day that passed without sight (or smell) of the Malleus made me feel a little better about laying low.
Lacey was as chipper as ever, something that shouldn’t have set me on edge, but it did. It wasn’t her fault that I wasn’t ‘getting into the spirit of the holidays,’ but it just wasn’t happening for me. Her ‘Hallowe’en Countdown’ was also giving me a little bit of anxiety. Samhain was a big deal for all of these neo pagan wannabe witches, but it just reminded me of things I would rather forget.
“I’m going to have a horror movie marathon on Halloween, Fee, you should totally come. I promise you’ll have a great time. You’ll love it.” Lacey was determined, and even though I hated to admit it, but the exaggerated pout she wore on her face was working on me. Now that I knew that the Malleus had a cell, or at least a member, here in New York I was beyond nervous.
Maybe having some company would be a good thing.
“Pleeeeease... I promise you’ll have the very best time. It will be quiet, and we can read tarot cards and light candles while we watch scary movies! You like horror movies, right?”
I did, but only the old ones. I remembered seeing them in theatre, shuddering with delight at Bela Lugosi’s portrayal of the Count, crying as the Bride lit herself on fire rather than be married against her will to the Monster... I probably would have done the same thing.
“Yes, I guess so. But only the old black and white ones, I just couldn’t get into the newer stuff. If you can promise me you won’t put on anything crazy, then I suppose it couldn’t hurt.” Lacey put her hand over her heart and traced an ‘X’ on her bat-patterned cardigan as a wide smile spread across her face.
“Oh my SQUEE, Fee, this is going to be the very best, I can’t WAIT!” Lacey squealed and flung herself at me, wrapping her arms around my waist.
“Okay, okay...” I pushed her away gently and crossed my arms over my chest. “Don’t make me change my mind.”
Lacey’s dark eyes widened, and I smiled briefly, trying to reassure her. “I won’t let you down, Fee, I promise!”
I rolled my eyes and turned back to the espresso machine. Lacey chattered on about her plans, but I was only half-listening. It was only a few weeks until Halloween, and that meant I only had a short amount of time to either find an excuse to cancel, or prepare myself for the inevitable saccharine avalanche that she would unleash.
I didn’t know which option was more daunting.
The red leather album sat on my desk. I hadn’t opened it in weeks. And I felt the weight of its wordless accusation.
That I was running away. That I was trying to avoid my duty to Hecate... but I hadn’t been a good Daughter since I was a child, and the goddess hadn’t seemed to mind. Sure, I was a little ashamed to admit that I had let everything I had learned be pushed to the side.
Now that Malleus had moved into my neighborhood, this was definitely not the right time to start digging up old bones.
Rainy nights had always been my favorite. Rain meant that my mother would make a comforting stew, something warm and hearty, and Hannah and I would get a taste of the wine my aunt cultivated in the cellar of our stone house. Those autumn nights had been an excuse to huddle together by the fire while my mother had read from the books that smelled of herbs and old magic. Books that I wished I had been able to bring with me on that deadly day.
I had done my best to re-write those books. But my memory wasn’t what I hoped that it would be, and I had given up several times, sometimes halfway through writing out a recipe when I couldn’t remember the ingredients exactly. It frustrated me to no end that I couldn’t do this one simple thing. These books were the only link I had to my former life... my only link to my family.
The books were open on the kitchen counter and I tried my best to remember how to make one of my aunt’s favorite potions, a hangover cure that I was determined to brew before I drank the bottles of homemade wine that were in the cupboard. Don’t judge. It had been a shitty couple of weeks.
I had all of the herbs, my fire escape was covered in carefully cultivated pots holding everything I needed, and my kitchen was hung with bunches of drying ingredients for the poultices, possets and teas that I had catalogued in the pages.
My apartment looked more like an ancient apothecary shop than the apartment of a 21-year old coffee shop employee. It was a good thing no one, other than Eli, ever came over, and he didn’t give a shit about them. He was only concerned about the garlic, but he assured me that he only had a mild allergy, nothing serious.
Eli.
He had a gig that night, and I still hadn’t decided if I wanted to go or not. His band was a dark synth-fueled concoction that seemed better suited to the underground clubs of the 80s than New York’s modern club scene. I mean, it made sense to me, but I’d met Eli at a very strange time in his life, the beginning of his afterlife actually. He had been a young vampire then, and he was still angry at everything.
I didn’t blame him. I was angry too. I’d just been angry for a whole lot longer.
I tossed a pinch of ground bone powder into the pot that was bubbling on the stove and sent a little touch of my power after it. The liquid churned angrily, changing color in an alarming way and sending up an acrid smelling smoke.
Suki hissed and jumped off the counter, running for my bed and hiding under my pillow.
“You traitor, I know it smells like shit!” I shouted after her, reaching through the eye-watering cloud to turn on the extractor fan. “So much for that.”
I reached for my pen and scratched through the last few ingredients. This was one of many failed attempts, and it was starting to piss me off.
I’d already opened one of the bottles of dandelion wine. This wasn’t an old family recipe; it was something I’d picked up from a girlfriend in the late 60s. Of course, I added a little of my own magic to the batch, and it was one of my favorite things. I hadn’t decided if I was going to bring a bottle with me to Lacey’s Halloween party yet, but I was leaning in that direction. If I was going to get through a ‘Halloween extravaganza,’ I would have to do it on the edge of drunkenness.
I took a gulp of wine and closed my eyes as the rich liquid slipped down my throat. All the new witches I had met had a fondness for cheap red wine that they would add some of their own blood to as a daring step... it meant nothing, but I know they considered themselves shocking. I’d lost count of the amount of times I’d had to suppress my boredom as they recited their ‘spells’ and giggled over standing naked together in the moonlight in someone’s rented apartment while Stevie Nicks blared on the stereo.
Ridiculous.
Harmless, sure, but still ridiculous.
I waved my hand at the smoke, directing it towards the fan.
A loud knock echoed through my apartment and I dropped my wooden spoon to the floor.
“Ouch,” I muttered as the hot liquid splashed on my bare foot.
Who the fuck?
I wasn’t expecting anyone. Eli always came in through the window unless we were together, and I hadn’t ordered any takeout. Had I?
Knuckles bashed against the thick wooden door again and my throat closed with fear. The last time I had opened the door to a furious knock; my whole family had been dragged away to th
eir deaths.
Suki hissed, flattening her ears to her head. She never did that when it was the pizza guy. Great.
I crept to the door, listening carefully for any clues as to who was outside. I could hear muffled voices, gruff and male.
I paused and inhaled deeply, expecting the tang of smoke that followed the Malleus around, but all I could smell was my burning concoction on the stove.
“Who is it?” I called out before cursing myself inwardly for being a horror movie trope. I looked through the peephole into the hallway, coming eye to eye with a uniformed police officer. He was older, with grey at his temples and in his mustache and tired looking blue eyes. His partner was middle aged, and stocky, but he looked bored.
Fine. Everything was fine.
“NYPD, ma’am, could you open the door please?”
It’s nothing, Ophelia. Just a ‘knock and talk,’ you’ll be fine. I looked over my shoulder at the pot on the stove that was bubbling loudly and my kitchen strung with herbs. The pot smelled terrible. Okay, make it quick.
I pushed back my hair and hoped that I had nothing incriminating on my face as I unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door. The chain prevented it from opening all the way, and I was tall enough to block their view into the kitchen.
“Hey, good evening officers,” I said cheerfully, trying my best not to be nervous. If things got weird, I could wipe their memories and send them on their way, but I didn’t want it to come to that. “What can I do for you?”
The older officer crinkled his nose as the smell of my experiment reached his nostrils. Too much goddamn bone powder.
He touched his nose briefly as if trying to rub away the smell, but I knew he wouldn’t be able to get it out of his clothes for a few washes. That shit clung to you.
“It’s probably nothing, ma’am, but we’re looking for an Eli Maddern… We had an anonymous tip that he was living in this building. You wouldn’t happen to know who he is? Seen him around lately?” The cop looked at me carefully, and I tried to keep the smile on my face.
Godammit, Eli, what have you done now?
I shook my head, “I’m sorry, officer, I don’t know who that is.”
“Are you sure? Miss…”
“Askew, Sarah Askew.” I always turned to my oldest names when the cops showed up.
“Right. You haven’t seen anyone who looks like this in the building?” He held up a photo, it was grainy and dark, but it was most definitely Eli. His pale face stared directly, purposefully, up into the camera, his mouth open wide and his tongue stuck out. That cocky punk bastard.
I shook my head, “Sorry, officer. I work really weird shifts, and I don’t have much of a social life. I don’t even know who my neighbors are to be honest.”
“How long have you lived in this building, Miss Askew?” He asked the question casually as he placed the photo back on his clipboard, sliding it under a paperclip with a practiced motion.
I pretended to think for a minute before replying, “Y’know it feels like forever, but I only moved in last summer… took over a sublet from a co-worker.”
The officer nodded, “Thank you, Miss Askew, we’ll let you get back to your evening.” He passed me a card, which I took dutifully. “If you see this Eli Maddern character, you’ll give us a call, won’t you?”
“Of course, Officer.” I smiled and waggled the card in farewell. “I hope you find him.”
The older man smiled briefly and made as if to turn away but his partner paused, trying to look over my shoulder. I winked at him and then closed the door quickly, locking the deadbolts with a wave of my hand.
I flicked the officer’s card into the trashcan beside my desk and flopped face down on my bed.
The only good thing about studio apartments was the fact that everything was within easy flopping distance.
Suki meowed and walked over my back, settling herself on my butt.
“You’re no help at all,” I muttered into my blankets. Suki kneaded her claws into my ass in response, her purr vibrating up my spine. I groaned and pressed my forehead into the covers.
I could hear the cops moving down the hall, knocking on other apartment doors.
Eli, you’re so stupid sometimes. I was furious with him. He’d grown up on a steady diet of horror movies and vampire fiction, and when he became one, he hadn’t bothered to test whether or not everything he saw in movies was true. He might disappear in mirrors, but I would have to let him in on the fact that cellphone cameras weren’t mirrors, and that he was going to get busted if he wasn’t more careful.
My long life had made me paranoid and eager to avoid being outed for what I was. He was way too cavalier with his eternity, and it was starting to get on my nerves.
5
The pot on the stove hissed and spat and Suki jumped down to the floor, her tail puffed up and twitching as she looked into the kitchen. I lifted my head off the bed and looked over at the stove. The smoke pouring out of the pot was a ridiculous green color.
“What is this, the Disney channel?” I muttered and rolled off the bed. What a mess. Hannah would have never let me forget about this mistake. I gritted my teeth and turned off the gas on the burner. The extractor fan was doing a good job of keeping the apartment clear of the worst of the smoke, but I knew that everything would stink for a while.
I yanked the kitchen window open, grateful for once that my view was the back of another building and not the front windows of another apartment.
The wooden spoon I had tossed on the floor had turned a sickening black color and was starting to melt the ancient linoleum just a little bit.
I made a face and picked it up gingerly before tossing it into the sink. I’d deal with that later.
Suki jumped up onto the table and watched me with wide pale eyes. “You’re loving every minute of this, aren’t you?” Suki ignored me and focused on washing herself. I grunted in annoyance and waved my hand over the pot to diffuse the bilious green smoke a little before leaning over to inspect the damage.
The liquid was a dark swampy green that was better suited to a Florida bog than my Brooklyn kitchen.
“Well… so much for that.”
Could I even flush this? If urban legends about sewer alligators weren’t true, they might be after I flushed this mess. I wasn’t willing to shoulder that kind of responsibility just yet. I took a deep breath and lifted the pot off the stove and reached through the window to put my failed cauldron on the fire escape. Hopefully it wouldn’t affect the plants. I don’t know if I could handle another heirloom tomato debacle.
At least the smoke wouldn’t do any damage outdoors. Well, not much anyway.
The extractor fan coughed and I snapped it off guiltily before leaning against the counter and picking up my spell book.
I coughed with wry laughter and threw the book at my bed. It cartwheeled through the air and Suki watched it with half-interested eyes as it bounced off the brick wall and onto the bed. She jumped off the table with a feline grunt and I went directly to the bed so that she could plonk her ass straight onto the pages of the open book.
What was it with that cat and putting her butt on paper?
Suki yawned and I looked at my watch, wiping the steam from the glass face. Eli had a gig tonight. I wondered if the cops would be heading there to surprise him. I wasn’t going to show up tonight, but I’d had enough of cooking for one night and the thought of hanging around the apartment with the lingering smell of my failure wasn’t too appealing either.
Maybe a margarita would fix my headache.
I looked down at my leggings and baggy sweater with a sigh. Going out meant I had to put on a bra. And pants. My sweater stank of that horrible green smoke and my leggings had a hole in them.
“Ugh. Suki, tell me I shouldn’t go out,” I begged my disinterested cat, but she was hunkered down on my book, purring, intent on napping. Her ear flicked when I spoke, but she didn’t open her eyes to look at me.
With an exasperated groan, I pull
ed out something different to wear and got dressed. It was a good thing that my wardrobe was already mostly black and grey, the club Eli was playing tonight was a punk holdover that had somehow managed to keep itself afloat. Eli didn’t talk about the owners much, but I had a feeling it had something to do with some very old money, and I’m talking the kind of old that’s older than me, if you catch my drift.
Black leather was encouraged, and if there was anything I knew how to do well, it was blending in. Sure, the glamor I cast over myself before I left my apartment helped a lot, but it was important that I looked the part too. Eli and others like him (and there were quite a few) could see through my magic. It had unsettled me at first, knowing that they could see me and recognize my face, but over the last twenty years I’d grown a little more comfortable around them.
But just a little.
Eli was one thing, he was easy to understand and his motives were simple. He just wanted to play music, and not much else mattered to him, which was fine with me. He came and went through my living room window without any promise of when he’d return, and that was fine with me. Even though Eli didn’t technically fall under Hecate’s rules about making ties with a man, I didn’t feel the need to cage him. I’d been just fine for centuries, and I didn’t miss him when he didn’t show up. But I had to admit that it was nice to have him around sometimes.
Spiral had been a New York club scene fixture since the mid-70s. It had always been subversive, and always trended a little darker when it came to their events and clientele. The unisex bathrooms were the perfect place for a clandestine (or not so clandestine as the case may have been) hookup, and the dark booths covered in black velvet and leather had hosted more celebrities and wannabe’s than you could count.
As the century had turned and times had changed, Spiral had somehow retained a lot of its gritty charm, and while I never really felt comfortable there, Eli was right at home.
I kicked a wad of wet newspaper that clung to the sidewalk in front of the club. The gig was already underway, and I could hear Eli’s growling voice over the throbbing guitar cords. The lineup was long tonight, and I groaned inwardly. The last thing I wanted to do on a windy October night was stand in a line getting sore feet with a bunch of smelly punk kids.
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