by S. E. Akers
I shifted my stare to a random spot on the wall before my modest smile turned noticeably suspicious. “Oh, Katie-Kate . . . Making it up to me is so not necessary.”
Katie rose to her feet with a hop, pulling me up alongside her, and then began brushing off what eerily looked to me like the remnants of my busted-up white cloud. “So do you want to watch a movie?” she asked, steadily smacking away.
“Not really,” I groaned, feeling like the walls were starting to close in all around me. I gave my watch a restless check. “It’s only eleven, and I can’t check-in until four o’clock. Can we just go somewhere?” Anywhere but here, I pleaded silently.
“Sure. Just let me grab my purse,” my bosom friend assured as she headed off to her bedroom. Ten seconds later she emerged with an even perkier smile. “Ready?”
Still fighting a losing battle with the pesky little white beads, I opened the closest window, shot a gust all over my body, and sent all those little buggers sailing out of my hair permanently. I lowered the window with a squeaky close. See now, why can’t all problems be carried away with such ease?
Katie threw her arm around me cheerily as we headed to the door. I, however, was far from ready to start rallying any matching smiles just yet. Apparently this one was going to take some time to pout out of me…regardless of the fact that I truly had no one to blame but myself.
“You know, I could compel you to into a dormitory,” I reminded as we stepped into the hall, “ . . . and take away all of those witchy desires bubbling around in that cauldron you call a head.”
“Even if that conscience of yours caved enough, you still couldn’t do it to me,” Katie ragged with a light laugh and then pulled my diamond out from underneath her shirt. “I slapped this thing on as soon as I got your text this morning.”
“Yeah,” I grumbled. “I knew there was something fishy about that short & sweet ‘K’ you sent back.”
Katie gave the rough little stone a cutesy kiss and then sent it safely back to its home between her boobs. “I guess you’ll have to think faster if you plan on outfoxing me, especially when I know you like the back of my hand . . . And don’t forget. I claim the advantage of having pulled time connected to that head of yours, so I know all its guilty ticks.”
The amount of hubris lacing that particularly nagging reminder drove me straight into making a solemn vow to the universe right then and there: I would never let her know that I could rescind my diamond’s power at any time, just as easily as I could counter her connection to my mind with a little focus. Nope. Those cards I planned on playing close to my chest and well away from those “all-seeing eyes” my bosom friend seemed to think she claimed.
Back of my hand, my diamond ass, I grinned.
I noticed the outline of something else hiding under her shirt as she locked the door, something much larger that claimed a distinct curve at its base. “What’s that?” I questioned, pointing to the lump as we started our descent down the stairs.
“A mojo bag I made last week,” Katie bragged, sounding as bouncy as her steps.
Now that I knew what it was, I didn’t dare ask her if I could physically see the tiny felt sack, not after learning all about them in my “alchemy lessons” this summer. Spying eyes and curious fingers would taint their magic, rendering them useless until they could be charged again. Though not with salt-water or moonbeams. Mojo bags required a smoke cleansing, accompanied by a specific chant, and then “feeding it” with an oil of the crafter’s choosing. And if you were to open someone’s, whether by mistake or intentionally, all the items placed inside could never be bound again and used for the same purpose. You also ran the risk of getting cursed with the opposite of whatever the bag was meant to attract, if the crafter was shrewd enough to have hexed it with a counter-spell looking to score some payback. Of course knowing that didn’t make me any less curious.
“So what kind of mojo are you trying to pull?” I asked, thinking her answer would possibly clue me in on its contents. “Money? Luck?” The corners of my lips lifted into a sly smile as I thought about Ty’s admission. “Or love?”
“Protection,” Katie assured and gave her chest a round of comforting pats.
I couldn’t object to that. “Wise choice.”
“Its root magic is nowhere near as powerful as your voodoo bag,” Katie admitted, “but it works good enough. It saved me from almost getting mugged last week when I was leaving work.”
My body came to a startling stop when my hand inadvertently grabbed hold of the handrail. Every grumbly thought I’d been stewing about with respect to my BFF received its official “OVER IT” stamp, and then I swiftly started filing them all away.
“Seriously?” I gasped.
“Yeah,” Katie affirmed, looking a cool blend of serious and relieved. “He had a knife too.”
My eyes sprang open like a hornet the size of a missile had popped me in the rear. “Katie . . .”
“Oh, it was just a little one,” she vowed and passed it off with a cavalier wave.
I straightened my rattled stance. “And you’re sure that mojo bag stopped it,” I posed skeptically.
“Yep,” she sang proudly. “It ensured my throat jab was a direct hit and that the dude ended up on his knees retching for air like a whiny little bitch-boy.”
“When did you become Katie Kick-Ass?”
“A couple of days after you left,” she admitted. “I signed up for an introductory street-fighting class . . . And now that I’m finished with it, I’m thinking about enrolling in one where they teach Krav Maga.” Katie gave the length of her hair a light toss, looking the same as if she were casually weighing which of the latest fashion trends to adopt instead of selecting the most practical and deadliest of mixed martial arts. “But I hear you can get a great cardio workout from boxing and learn how to kick some seriously-wicked butt at the same time.”
I stared at the back of her head blankly. I was starting to think that I needed to jump back inside my car, drive around the block backward ten times, and then start this visit the heck all over again.
Katie stopped at the second-floor landing. She may have been standing tall, but the swell of her eyes was imploring my sympathy. “You can’t always be around to protect me, Shi.” Then she lifted her sleeve and flashed me her bicep, which admittedly had a lot more definition. “And I’ve been hitting the gym.”
So it seemed my bosom friend was hell-bent on becoming as close to a supernatural as humanly possible. Or lookin’ to make sure that a little more muscle is bolstering that smart-aleck mouth of hers… Either way, I couldn’t fault her for any measures she decided to take in regards to her safety, not when they stemmed from her deeply rooted fears of being kidnapped again. And I didn’t even want to think about the other heinous act that started with the letter K. Though I was certain the possibility of that happening was running a relentless and vicious loop in her head as well.’
Of course, there was one way the little bad-ass could increase her odds of survival without any physical exertion at all. All she had to do was stop using that ruby cologne I gave her strictly for protection as a damn man-mesmerizing aphrodisiac. Yep. That one I could smell on the back of her hand.
“Just promise me that you’ll be careful,” I urged.
“I will — Mom.” Katie gave her abdomen a stout smack. “Hey, do you want to punch me in the gut? See how tough I am?”
“Do you really want me to punch you in the gut?” I posed, “ . . . Right now? After finding out that the witch has decided to park her broom here, for good?”
“Maybe another time,” she corrected with a shameless giggle and then resumed her steps at a much quicker pace.
Another wise choice, I commended silently.
We strolled down the street lazily for several blocks. Passing by the plethora of eateries during my typical lunchtime without darkening any of their doors only confirmed that my stomach was bound in too many knots over my looming confession. So on the bright-side, it wasn�
�t some ravenous, bottomless pit that one could set their watch to like Silas had jeered on numerous occasions. Ironclad proof that there wasn’t room for both my guilt-laden shame and a hearty appetite.
Like a couple of zombies being led solely by primal instinct, our feet began beating a more focused path as soon as we spied a familiar and welcomed green & white sight. All desperate and driven paths inevitably lead to a Starbucks…
While waiting on our beverages at the pick-up counter, Katie positioned her hands over one of their logos hanging nearby, completely covering up its crown. “Tell me, Shi,” she grinned. “Does that look anything like the notorious Lorelei?”
My stare homed in on the iconic Siren, seeing her head uncomfortably cropped for the second time. “Take away one of those tails and that hits the nail on the head about right.”
Katie’s hands fell to her sides; her expression now robbed of any amusement. “You know, the thought of the Onyx looking to settle the score is bad enough, but I think about her coming after me too.” Then instinctively, she whipped towards me with an antsy shudder. “Uhhh! You should have just KILLED HER with that kurki thing!” she blared.
A speedy glance throughout the store just confirmed the small army of appalled glares I sensed coming at us in walloping waves from all directions. With a pair of wide, flaring eyes, I turned to the girl who must have learned how to whisper in a sawmill and gave her arm a firm nudge. “Um, Hello? TELEPATHY?” I scolded.
“Sorry,” Katie apologized, heeding my mental request this time. “But you should have!”
I didn’t dare let on about how sorry a part of me felt for the sea-bitch, even in spite of her hatred towards me. And I didn’t think for a second that one bit of Nerina’s / Seraphina’s chastising lecture had sunk into that red-head of hers, even in its current, more easily-accessible state. Without a doubt, my hide was safe & secure standing either alone or sharing a top-spot with her sister Arica when it came to her Most-Wanted-List. Though regrettably, Katie wasn’t overreacting. I could totally see the conniving & cropped carrot-top doing it too. So that I would rectify by placing a bolt inside Katie’s diamond before we parted today. I only hoped its heat didn’t serve as an adrenaline rush for the aspiring witch / Ronda Rousey wannabe. Now there was something that had all the makings of a potentially wicked and volatile combo.
With our drinks prepared and presently gripped all cozy in our hands, we weaved through the maze of tables with our eyes firmly glued to an open booth next to the front windows. Our lattes were as creamy and aromatic as always. I only wished it would have felt more like one of our bosom friend outings, but the slosh of my Vanilla Latte rolling in my stomach had only made my uneasiness worse. Then again, it could have been that extra two shots of espresso I had them add, thinking it would serve as a temporary pick-me-up. Katie directed the topic of our conversation, mainly because she wanted to know all about Silas now that I’d enlightened her to his true identity. Her gaze even turned all swirly-eyed over the prospects of scoring her very own genie one day. So as a last-ditch effort, I secretly thought, Silas and his wrath be damned, and then hinted that I might be able to make her dreams come true with the contingency that she abandoned the whole witchcraft thing. But surprisingly, she didn’t bite—NOT AT ALL—not even one little nibble at the thought of racking up an untold number of wishes in a single day. That just confirmed how much Katie really wanted this and how serious she was. So like any other supportive bosom friend, I officially closed the book that held all of my objections and mentally handed her that sharp, pointy pair of eight-inch scissors, along with a heartfelt prayer that she didn’t get cut or stabbed somewhere along the way.
We were almost finished with our drinks when Katie announced, “I think I am a little hungry,” while she eyed the pastry case from her seat. “Do you want something?”
Seeing all those sinful treats just reminded me of Tanner and his sweet-tooth, as well as how much sugar I was going to have to coat my spoon with when it came time for my admission.
My shoulders yielded an unenthusiastic shrug. “Nah,” I sneered.
Katie scooted out of the booth. “Oh, sure you do. You know you can’t say no to their iced lemon poundcake.”
And that would be set-in-stone true any other day… I was watching Katie making her way towards the counter when someone stepped directly into my view. I lifted my head to find Bethesda standing there in my line of sight with a bubbly smile illuminating her face.
Katie is going to have an absolute fit . . .
“Hi, Shiloh,” Bethesda beamed.
“Hi,” I echoed awkwardly. “Um, Katie told me you were going to be gone all day and here you are.”
Bethesda nodded and then immediately plopped herself into my side of the booth, sending my rear on a bouncy, rightward romp. “I didn’t want to miss seeing you today.”
My eyes glazed with confusion. “How did you know I was coming?”
“Because,” Bethesda began and then took a thoughtful pause, “ . . . . yyyou’re moving into your dorm today.”
“Oh,” I replied, not buying her answer a full hundred-percent. I didn’t recall mentioning the specific date when I was here last time, and I knew Katie wouldn’t have offered up any information. And besides, her answer still didn’t explain how she knew we were here, unless she had resorted to checking every building within a five-block radius of their apartment…which some might say lay somewhere within the tangled fringe of certifiably insane.
Since she was already here and Katie was still waiting up at the counter without the slightest clue, I figured now was the perfect time to take care of something pressing: squaring myself with her generosity. Sharing her shaman’s stone proved a major confidence-booster for me, and now it was time to return the favor. I only hoped the service over at the counter proved as a slow as when we ordered our drinks. That way I could get the giving-part out of the way in peace before having to start diamond-proofing my brain cells from incoming BFF fire.
“I’m glad we ran into each other,” I said as I rummaged through my purse, “because I have something for you.”
“For me?” Bethesda questioned.
I nodded and pulled the stone out of my purse feeling a touch nervous. Bethesda wasn’t aware that I’d taken a dip into her head and had seen all the insecurities that swam circles in it every day. Not knowing how it would be received, I simply laid it on the table in front of her with a delicate “tap”.
“It’s a blue aventurine,” I said. “I was told it holds a great amount of positive energy. Apparently a lot of people in authority have them. They radiate success . . . and confidence,” I added uneasily. “It seemed fitting for the leader of a coven.”
Bethesda stared at the tumbled blue stone for a moment, seeming hesitant to touch it. I couldn’t make heads or tails from her expression, not with her eyes looking so eerily frozen. I started to say something when she slowly extended her hand. Then with a cryptically hypnotic gaze, she started stroking the tip of her finger across the stone, tracing every one of its dark blue veins.
“And it was pretty,” I added, hoping to stifle the silence and stoke a little reaction.
A distinct, glassy sheen had overtaken her eyes by the time she turned her head to me. Now all that remained was finding out if that was a good or bad thing.
“This has to be one of the most thoughtful gifts anyone has ever given me,” she whispered soulfully. Then Bethesda went straight back to staring at the tumbled blue rock like she had been given a gemstone hailed as the rarest and most dazzling across the entire globe.
The tears she was holding back warmed my heart; they were enough to deem it a win. I gave her had a squeeze, proud that I’d done an excellent job. “You’re welcome,” I grinned.
Bethesda shifted around in her seat, her eyes needing their full connection with mine. “Shiloh,” she began with a rasp, “I really wish you would reconsider giving The Craft an honest try. You wouldn’t believe the magic that’s out there . . .
and I know in my heart you would make an excellent witch.”
“I’m taking a full eighteen hours this semester . . . I really don’t think I can swing it,” I evaded politely and left it at that.
“I understand,” Bethesda nodded. “But if you do find yourself with a little free-time on your hands, the door to my coven is always open.”
I smiled back at her, relieved that her latest attempt wasn’t the least bit pushy. “Bethesda, if I ever decide to take a dive into witchcraft, I promise, you’ll be the first to know.”
The irksome rattle of a throat clearing to our left made the gravelly push of a bulldozer sound like a litter of kittens purring. Then before either of us could turn our heads, a slice of iced-lemon poundcake landed on the table with a guided pitch, directly between us. If my appetite wasn’t already zapped, it sure-fire would have been now.
Katie slid into the side of the booth opposite us, looking just as pissed by her cousin’s intrusion as she did baffled by her presence. “How in the hell did you know we were here?” she barked and then tossed her blueberry scone down on the table hard enough that it bounced right off her napkin. “One of your tracking spells?”
“Nothing that elaborate,” Bethesda assured with a flippant shake of her head. She held up her iPhone and shoved the screen towards Katie’s face. “I used my Find Friends app.”
Katie wrestled her iPhone out of her purse in a fit and sought out her very same app. The whites of her eyes swelled to the size of silver dollars when she realized that Bethesda had in fact synced their numbers without her knowledge. Katie slammed her fist down on the table with the pound of a sledgehammer, looking full-on violated. “WHEN did you do this?”
Bethesda hoisted her nose high in the air. “When you ditched me the last time Shiloh was here — on purpose.”
The irksome vibe my BFF was cranking out had a heck of a lot more grind than the churn of espresso beans grating the air. And just going off the hue flooding her cheeks, I fully expected her to start spitting out steam at any second.