Kennedy Awakens

by Greg Alldredge

  “Thank you, Mister Grant, come right in,” the voice said. Before it finished talking, the bricks moved in a series of patterns, flowing like a parade, making an opening large enough to fit three wide and two tall of the young witch. Ogres were known to be much larger than humans.

  Right inside the door, the bouncer stood guard. If a person were to pass him on the street, he would look like any normal six-foot six-inch tall linebacker. If he’d been a few inches taller, he would be considered a square.

  “No weapons allowed.” The grunt of the voice was meant to impress as much as the size. At least this one had his lower fangs filed down to fit in with the humans better.

  “I got none,” Kennedy lied.

  “You know I gotta check you.” The monster reached out a hand to place it on Kennedy’s shoulder.

  “If you touch me with your child-killing hands, I will kill you.” The words came out a bit harsher than Kennedy intended, but it had been a long night, and she was in no mood to be felt up by the beast of a man.

  “Listen, no need to be rude. I’m just trying to do my job.” The large man’s voice sounded hurt by her words.

  For a moment, Kennedy felt remorse at the biting tone of her comment.

  Surprisingly the bouncer stopped and looked over his shoulder to just inside the door. There stood a more human-sized male. With a wave of his hand, he said, “Let her in. I will vouch for her and keep her out of trouble.”

  “Thanks, Tony, it’s been a long night,” Kennedy said as she pushed her way past the bouncer. Tom followed close on her heels. She’d thought about ditching the tagalong back in the alley, but she did tell him she would get him out of the city.

  The funny thing about Ogres and many Fae, if they wanted to, they could shapeshift into more human form. Many did and lived out lives next to the norms that would have killed them all if they learned the truth. When they were alone, they would let their true natural looks shine bright. Literally warts and all. Gnomes, Elves, Leprechauns, Ogres, the lot of them, all changelings at heart and none of them cared for the others. If they ever put their differences aside, they could take on the world of the norms and overthrow the lot of them.

  Perhaps it was for the better they mistrusted each other more than they mistrusted the humans. The covens of witches proved to be a go-between for the races and norms, doing what they could to keep some semblance of peace. Of course, no one asked the mages to do the work. It just kind of fell into their laps. It was either that or be routed out and burned at the stake.

  This night, the bar was full of Ogres only. Most nights, this place would be a smorgasbord of every species around, including a few norms who were in the know. Tonight was karaoke night, and the Ogre community liked their singing loud and off-key. The racket drove most other races away in tears.

  On stage, there was a pair of female Ogresses belting out their best scream of Roxanne. Kennedy was sure they were killing it, but for her own sanity, she put her fingers in her ears and stayed close to Tony. Both women wore the Ogre version of the little black dress, with enough material to build a pair of small tents.

  The place, in general, was a smattering of different levels of attire and different decades. Ogres were never known to be fashion mavens. The overriding smell of the place was like an ancient forest. Ogre magic smelled old, musty, and forgotten. Much more attractive than how the norms reeked of food and drink all the time.

  Tony always dressed like he’d woke up in the wrong decade. Technically, he did. Ogres aged almost as slowly as witches. A child of the seventies, he still dressed in the oversized collar satin shirt with a pound of gold chains around his neck. The sharkskin polyester suit finished the look straight out of the disco era. “I hear you been busy tonight. People are talkin’…” Tony led the pair through the place, the low level of lights allowing the people in the privacy of the curtained-off booth to do whatever it was Ogres did in private. “You should know, we don’t kill children any longer. That is a hurtful, racist trope. I expect better comin’ from a witch like you.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that… Like you said, it’s been a long night.” Kennedy did feel some remorse over her words said in haste. If the peoples of the city were ever going to move forward, they would need to kill some old stereotypes.

  “What do Ogres eat now?” Tom asked.

  Tony stopped. His fists opened and closed a few times. For a moment, Kennedy thought Tom might lose some teeth right in front of her. “Veal,” Tony growled. “Maybe a little lamb now and again,” the man said before continuing on his way.

  “Shush, will you…” Kennedy grumbled as she followed their escort.

  Tom was smart enough to let it drop.

  Trying to change the subject, Kennedy asked, “Tell me, what did you hear?”

  “The news says you blasted your way through the drunks around Haymarket Square,” Tony grumbled as he continued his way to a secluded door in the back of the darkened room.

  “That’s bullshit. I did nothing of the kind. It was a Redman that did it.” Kennedy wasn’t sure what was going on, but she had a sinking feeling deep in the pit of her stomach.

  “You tell me what you think.” Tony opened the door to a stairway leading down and pulled out a phone. The pained notes of singing were cut off behind the closed door. Tony went straight to a Youku page that showed a cutup video that made it look like Kennedy was the person behind the attacks at the square.

  She watched in shock. Someone must have had multiple cameras trained on her during the chase. The footage was doctored with cinema-grade computer graphics. “I don’t know how that was taken… but it wasn’t me that did that.”

  Tony replaced the phone and moved silently down the wooden steps. “You don’t need to convince me. You need to convince the boss.” Tony opened another door that led into a room filled with eight Ogres, showing their full size. None tried to hide their true selves inside the inner sanctum of the lair. Sitting around the poker table were some of the strongest, most influential creatures in Boston, and at the head at the table, cards in hand, sat the leader of the Ogres.

  “Don Angelo, I bring a visitor.” Tony cleared the way to let Kennedy and Tom into the cellar.

  “Well, look what the cat coughed up,” the creature snarled through his pair of upward jutting tusks. Kennedy had met all the men around the table before, but normally only one at a time. In the large horde, they seemed more imposing than individually. Each fed off the others’ negative energy.

  Kennedy spoke with a soft voice. Now was not the time to be a smartass. “Thank you for bringing us in and giving us a safe place to hide. There has been a huge misunderstanding.”

  “You’re right, there has been.” From under the table, Don Angelo pulled a Desert Eagle .50. It seemed small in his giant hand as he laid it on the green velvet table. “I wonder how much the Feds will pay to take you into custody… or even the Seelie Court might pay higher still.”

  The sound of his voice told Kennedy Don Angelo wasn’t playing. She knew they were in deeper trouble than she thought. The witch’s neutrality in the city, in the world as a whole, might be endangered because of that stupid video. If she couldn’t prove it was fake…

  Tom started talking, “You don’t want to make me angry—”

  Kennedy cut him off, “Shut up, please don’t tell me you’re stealing lines from the Hulk…”

  Tom laughed, “Nope.” He pointed to the small basement window that sat behind Don Angelo. There was a string bat slapping the glass, fighting to get inside. The sound of wings fluttering became even louder as more string bats joined in.

  The lights in the basement grew dim. Someone called upon strong magic in the area. Suddenly, before Kennedy’s eyes, the huge automatic pistol still clutched in the Ogre’s hand transformed into a viper, the fangs of which sank into the tender part of the giant’s thumb web.

  “What’s the matter, afraid of a little snake?” Tom chuckled as Don Angelo screamed like a little girl.

&nb
sp; Chapter 3:

  A colony of the string bats erupted through the small glass windows. Each remarkably similar to the one Kennedy had sent in search of Tom. The green felt that covered the card table ripped from its place and flew into the air, sending the cards and chips flying into the men’s faces. Each Ogre in the room pulled a weapon and pointed in a separate direction. It would take a small miracle for any to survive the carnage that was about to happen.

  Tom grabbed Kennedy’s arm and pulled her to the ground as the nearest Ogre pulled his oversized handgun and opened fire. Thankfully, only one shot bounced around the room before that weapon turned into a serpent as well. Screams exploded from the monstrous men as snakes appeared, one after the other, where firearms used to be.

  Vines erupted from the cracked concrete floor, twisting their way up the monsters’ legs. From this angle, the Ogres danced a jig in a vain attempt to free their feet. The scene would have been hilarious if not for the ricochets bouncing off the cement walls.

  The lights blinked out as the window glass showered into the room. It was hard to tell what happened, but the sound of bats flapping filled her ears. The cavalry had ridden in, saving the day.

  “This way!” a familiar voice shouted, and Kennedy knew who the rescuers were. Her coven came from the river, searching for her. She was certain from the voice, if not the snakes. She had no idea who turned the guns into snakes.

  It was her turn to act. She low-crawled to the nearest window the voice had called from. A slender hand reached down from the opening, and she thrust Tom’s wrist into the waiting grip. Another shot whizzed by her head, and the sound of a scream told Kennedy that pistol had also been turned into a viper.

  She knew the magic didn’t come from her coven. She was the youngest witch from the Mystic River. Her coven were her teachers, and she had never seen a transformation spell like the one she witnessed this night. Something was amiss.

  Tom scrambled out the window. Kennedy was about to join the group outside when she was grabbed from behind.

  Tony growled into her ear, “No, you don’t.”

  Kennedy warned them earlier not to touch her. She didn’t like to be touched. She charged her flesh and sent bolts of electrical energy coursing through her body, sending the more normal-sized Ogre flying across the room and into the card table. If she’d taken the time to watch the effects, his slicked back hair now stood on end nicely and smoked ever so slightly.

  It took only a split second to scramble up the wall and out the window. She couldn’t resist shouting back inside the chaos-filled room, “Sorry, fellas, I’m no one’s patsy. Thanks for the time. It’s been fun but not real fun.”

  Outside, two of the coven’s older siblings waited for her. Dani and Trinity were a pair of twins a decade older than Kennedy who looked just as young. Kennedy knew who was there before she reached the alley, the scent of allspice and rosemary told her who saved them.

  “Figured you might need some help,” the older Dani started in.

  “You are blowing up the internet with your video,” Trinity followed.

  Dani finished, “It looked fun but probably not the way to spend the night.”

  Kennedy might be the youngest, the last witch born in the new world, but there were times she felt the oldest. Only a few decades separated the lot of the coven, but Kennedy would remain the youngest until something changed.

  “It wasn’t me, and worse still, someone will not let us leave the city.” Kennedy started walking towards the Charles River. “We need to escape the city before the net closes around us.”

  Tom called from behind, “What are you talking about?”

  Kennedy stopped to face the new witch from the deep south. “Listen, I don’t know how magic is handled from where you’re from, but here we don’t go around shooting it off in front of normal people. Someone is setting us up.”

  Dani tapped Kennedy on the shoulder.

  The youngest witch was not having a fun night, and her nerves were wearing thin. “What, damn it?”

  Dani held his tongue and pointed at the drunk who leaned against the wall watering the bricks.

  “Goddess, save us,” Kennedy swore to the clouds overhead.

  The man turned, still taking care of business. The stream flowed out toward the young woman’s feet. “What?” he slurred out.

  He never had a chance to finish the leak or the sentence. A push of force shot out from Kennedy’s palm, slapping the man’s head against the wall behind him. He slipped to the ground in a heap of flesh.

  “North Carolina…” Tom said.

  Kennedy turned towards the Asian man, her hand ready to strike him down as well. “What?” she growled.

  “I told you earlier, I’m from North Carolina, and my name is Tom.”

  “Whatever…” Kennedy marched toward the nearest street that would take them to the river.

  Tom continued, “And I’m the only person I know that can do… what I do. Until I met you, that is.”

  This time Dani and Trinity stopped.

  Trinity spoke first. “You have no coven?”

  Then Dani followed up, “No family?”

  Kennedy paused in her steps but refused to turn and face the man. “You’re all alone?”

  “I’m all I’ve got,” Tom said. The pain in his voice clawed at Kennedy’s heart.

  “How old are you?” she asked, expecting him to be centuries older than the three and everyone in her coven.

  “I’m not sure. I’ve never known when I was born. Twenty or so.” Tom stuffed his hands deep into his pockets.

  Kennedy pressed, “No, your real age?”

  “That is my real age.”

  Dani and Trinity muttered together, “The prophecy…”

  Tom asked, “What?”

  Before any could answer, shots rang out from the Ogre bar. It seemed several of the giant men escaped the spells entangling the cellar and came gunning for revenge.

  The four would have been shot, if not for the quick action of the twins. At the first sounds of shots, they threw up a shield spell that slowed the bullets enough that they dropped to the wet pavement. “Run!” the pair shouted.

  The shots would bring in the local cops, Kennedy was sure of that. They didn’t want to be picked up off the streets as vagrant children. Once identified by the system, it would be nothing for The Authority to waltz in and sweep them all up.

  Their choice of escape paths was limited. The well-lit street ahead was the best bet. Near the state capital… she bet her life and freedom on the fact the Ogres would not chase them down that way.

  With few taverns in this part of town, the chances of finding drunks dropped. The shield would not last forever and would not stop the monsters that chased them.

  The heavy footfalls told Kennedy the Ogres hadn’t ended the chase. There might be little choice but to burst onto the streets with spells flashing.

  That was when she heard the reverberation of speed-twin engines drawing closer. She didn’t know who came, but she had a guess.

  Six vintage Triumph motorcycles pulled to a stop at the end of the alley. Despite the cold, the women who sat straddling the bikes rode without cold weather gear. They rode with no safety gear at all, flaunting the laws of the state. Their black halter tops made the sight even more surreal. They looked more like lingerie models than bikers out for a ride in the freezing cold temperatures.

  The lead woman said, “Daughter of Eve, come with us if you want to live.”

  The second peeled off a ball of fire that blasted the Ogres back forty feet or so. Kennedy was certain if Tony was with the bunch, his suit must have melted after that attack.

  A quick glance and it was easy to spot the three cameras that caught the whole display. It was now recorded and stored somewhere, waiting for The Authority to find it and drag the lot of them in.

  Kennedy spent most of the night restraining her use of magic, fighting her urge to blast people’s faces off, limiting herself to times and places when s
he thought no one might spot her casting, and yet she was the victim of an organized campaign that would end up being the ruin of her and possibly her coven. When out of the blue, these biker babes, dressed like they rolled off a photo shoot or music video, pull up and start throwing battlefield magic like it is nobody’s business. Kennedy was fairly certain she would somehow be blamed for the fire the ball started.

  She hopped on the back of the lead bike. “Might as well, tonight is shit anyway. It can’t get much worse.” She never stopped to see if the others joined in her reckless decision. She was too busy holding on as the bikes roared away from the flaming alleyway.

  Snow, being mid-March, was not as uncommon as some might think. Before they made the first turn running from the approaching sirens, the dark clouds started to spit snow. Weather control had never been on the list of magic to learn. It seemed so passé, even unpredictable. She preferred the quick results of electricity and force over the slow build of weather control.

  Kennedy hated the snow. If she’d had her choice, she would have moved far from the cold the city of Boston suffered every season. She had lived long enough to witness the winters growing shorter and warmer, but the weather would never be warm enough for her in the winter.

  She knew the women that came to the rescue. Though technically not women, they only shifted into that form to suit their hunting. This had to be a wonderful night for the creatures to find a late-night snack. The city was full of drunks with an overactive libido looking for love in all the wrong places.

  She called her daughter of Eve, a human. Kennedy clung to the back of a daughter of Lilith. The creature called herself Semele and claimed to be a Succubus. Her race was created when Adam’s first wife Lilith left Eden and lay with the archangel Samuel, if a person was to believe the Jewish Bible telling of the story.

  Their aura smelled of brimstone, rotten eggs. As the historical reference scent of demon kind, it was obvious how humans pinned the title to the shape-shifting creatures. Given their use of magic to lure weak-minded males into complicated situations, it was understandable how they became equated with the sin of lust. When, in fact, gluttony would have been a better sin for the creatures to be linked to. They were always hungry.