by M. Lathan
She clicked her seatbelt. “Let’s take it for a spin.” He laughed and started the engine.
“How much did this cost? A fortune, I’d bet,” he said. She kept her eyes forward. Her hands were still on me. “So do you want me to park it close to the school and land inside? Drive to work like everyone else?”
“Yeah.” She caught a tear under her eye. He didn’t notice. “Turn here. Um … there’s something I want to see.” The car turned left onto an empty, unpaved road. “Pull over,” she said.
“Huh?” He chuckled. “Oh! Hell yes, I will.” He pulled the car onto the roadside and pushed his seat back. “Get over here.”
She joined him on his seat, and I covered my eyes. The sound of them making out was as sad as it was disgusting because I knew their love story hadn’t had a happy ending. “I love you,” she said, crying. “Say it back.”
“I love you.”
The ruffling stopped, and I uncovered my eyes. He was unconscious. Sobbing, she held his head firmly between her hands.
“What is she doing?” I asked.
“Erasing his memory,” Sophia said. “She’s already cleared the house of her things.”
She brought his limp hand to her stomach. “Say goodbye to Daddy. Wish him a happy life. A normal life.”
She opened a bag she’d had at her feet and pulled his wallet from his pocket. I moved closer so I could see. She stuffed it with money and new cards, even a license with his picture on it. She pushed him up to the steering wheel and buckled his seatbelt.
“Almost forgot,” she said, reaching for a chain around his neck that a wedding band dangled from. “Oh, God.” She kissed him again. “I have to do this. I love you. I’ll miss you, baby.”
She got out of the car, and with a flick of a finger, she rammed it into a tree. The windshield shattered, sending shards of glass soaring into the car, not harming me at all. She opened the door and inspected him. Besides a few scratches from the shattered glass, he was fine.
“She’s making it seem like he lost his memory in an accident?” I asked. Sophia nodded. “That’s stupid! Why not just hide with him? She’s not-”
“Thinking clearly?” I nodded. “She’s terrified. A month ago, she found her parents headless in their home.” Headless? Julian beheaded her parents. Oh, God. That was why I’d felt horrible pain in my neck in CC’s studio. “She wants to go back to Julian so you and your father won’t end up like them. She knows Christopher wouldn’t let her go, and she believes leaving is the only way to keep you two alive.”
Sophia snapped her fingers and brought us to a freezing cold house. Lydia was bundled up in front of a fireplace, crying. In the dim lighting of the room, I could see easels lining the walls. She painted like her mother.
I painted like mine.
She watched the fire fizzle out and got up to light it again. Her stomach was huge, but she was still skinny otherwise.
“One … match,” she said and chuckled. No other lights were on in the house; I assumed the power was out. She struck the final match against the box, but it died before it caught on. She erupted in a fit of screaming and swearing.
I sighed. I’d inherited the same explosive anger.
“Relax, Lydia,” she said. “Sorry, baby.” She created her own fire when she calmed down, the same way I could. “Don’t worry. It won’t hurt you. No one will train you. You’ll be normal.”
That didn’t happen. While she crooned, swearing I wouldn’t be affected, she created another blanket and a little white dress.
“You’re going to look like an angel. Two more weeks,” she said, crying again.
Someone knocked on her door and she jumped. I shook too. A knife appeared in her hand and she walked to the door, cloaked in the blanket. She twirled it through her fingers like I’d done with Remi.
“Karen?” a man said in an accent, Russian maybe. “Ms. Karen? Is there something wrong?”
She sighed. “No, Gerald. I’m fine.”
“Can I come in? I’ve been meaning to talk to you, but I never see you since you paid the rent up so far in advance. You never come out of there. It’s strange.”
She peaked out of the window on the door, and he smiled at her. “You see me every day, Gerald. Don’t you?” His eyes dulled, and he nodded. “I have dark hair and dark eyes and I work at the market. Don’t I?”
“Yes,” he whispered, clearly in a trance, believing what she wanted him to.
“Has anyone asked you to look for a blonde woman?” she asked.
“Yes. A blonde woman that will be with a man. Men are searching for her. The bounty is two million dollars.”
Lydia’s eyes watered, then she smiled at him again. “I’ll see you tomorrow like I do every day, Gerald. Where do I work again?”
“The market,” he droned and walked away from her door.
Sophia snapped, and we moved to a different house. It had rough wooden walls, like a cabin. Like the cabin built for one.
I was there, screaming.
I crept down the hall, toward the sound of running water, my heart close to giving out. I didn’t know what I’d do if I saw someone dangling me over a tub again.
A shower cranked off and Lydia ran into the bedroom, wrapped in a towel.
“Shhh,” she said. “I’m back, angel.” She picked me up out of a crib. I had a head full of curly hair already. I stopped crying immediately. “I left you for two minutes. Two little bitty minutes.” She bounced me as she walked around the room. “If I can’t leave to take a shower, how am I going to leave you forever?”
I was nestled against her chest with her wet hair in my face. I must have learned to think that smell meant to calm down.
“How old am I?” I asked, because it felt impossible for me to remember this moment. But I did, in a way that I could almost feel her skin on mine, and I shivered from the memory of that scent – oranges wafting from her hair.
I looked back at Sophia who hadn’t answered. She was smiling, her eyes watering. “She never lets me see her like this.” She sighed. “And I believe you are almost a month old. She was supposed to bring you to school right after you were born, but leaving is more complicated than she imagined it would be.”
Lydia pulled me away from her chest. She smiled at me and laughed. “Can Mama get dressed now?” I swatted my little hand in the air, and Lydia’s towel loosened at the top.
Sophia giggled. “I think you’re hungry,” she said, as I tried to take off Lydia’s towel without touching it.
I had powers before I was twelve. I had them as an infant. I guessed that was what complicated her leaving me.
“Christine! No!” Lydia yelled. “What did I say? Do not move things!” I screamed again, and she rocked me, cooing, until I stopped. “Oh, God. I am the worst mother in the history of mothers. Good thing I’ll be dead soon.”
I moved closer to the bed as she positioned me to eat. I sat next to her, looking at us in the most nurturing position a mother and daughter could ever be in outside of the womb. The icy shell covering my heart shattered, and I let myself remember her completely. This room. This cabin. How she was always crying, even when she laughed.
“Why does she think she’ll be dead soon?” I asked, instead of the words my heart pushed to my lips – bring me to my mother.
“She made it so she couldn’t have any more children. She believes Julian will kill her when he finds that out.” I was crying as hard as Lydia was now. “Let’s go, love.”
I shook my head, I didn’t want to leave. I reached out my hand to touch Lydia, but it went through her. “I get it. She loved me. I believe you.”
“Still does. And there’s more to see,” Sophia said.
She snapped and took me from the memory I wanted to stay in, to one I really didn’t want to see. I broke down immediately when I saw the St. Catalina crest in the wrought iron fence.
We were in a car in front of it. Lydia had me in her arms in the backseat. There was no one in the front. Her hair was
jet-black, her eyes green. A disguise, I guessed. She opened a briefcase with her free hand, checking over the contents. A birth certificate, my prints, and loads of money were inside. St. Catalina had lied about not knowing who we were. Maybe the bible names were a decoy, a cover for only taking rich kids.
“This is it, baby. You’re all set. Mama loves you. More than loves you. You’ll be safe and happy here. I’ve seen you all grown up. You will be absolutely stunning. Perfection, like your father. I’m sorry I won’t be here to hold you and watch you grow. But don’t worry. I’m not worrying. You haven’t moved anything in two weeks, and you won’t ever be trained, so the powers are gone for good. I’m sure of it. Everything will go right in your life. You’ll be normal with normal friends and you’ll find someone normal to love. That’s what your father and grandmother should’ve done. But you have to. You’re the only piece of me that will live, and you have to be happy.”
She wiped her face with the collar of her shirt, and I yanked her wig. “You have to fall asleep, angel. I’ll never be able to leave if you scream.” She rocked me for a minute, still crying, but I still wouldn’t close my eyes. “Okay … you’re going to make me pull out the big guns. You know you can’t resist it.” She chuckled and cleared her throat.
In a sweet soprano voice, one I remembered so clearly, she sang the song I’d thought I made up, my shower song. My little eyes fluttered. She sang the verse I’d sung to Nathan after I’d fallen asleep in her arms. I’d bet I rarely heard that part, and it had gotten buried deeper in my mind. I fell to more pieces as I watched and listened and remembered and wanted.
She kissed me and covered her mouth, her face and body tensed with a scream she couldn’t release. She opened the door, and Sophia pulled me closer. I bawled into her hair until the car disappeared.
Sophia and I now stood under a huge tree with moss hanging over our heads. Lydia looked like what I imagined a hunter would look like, dressed in an all black, clingy outfit. She did not look like she’d just had a baby.
“So … obviously he didn’t kill her like she’d thought,” I said, recovering from seeing her leave me. Ready to be upset again.
“She changed her plan. While hiding with you, she hadn’t seen how bad things had gotten with the war. She doesn’t think you’re safe because of the people trying to take over the world,” Sophia said, pointing to a house in the distance. “Fredrick Dreco is inside with all the major leaders of the war. They are the most powerful witches, wizards, and beasts alive. They are about to figure out that they’ve been lured there, but it’s too late.”
Lydia stretched her arms in front of her and closed her eyes. A gentle breeze shook the leaves and the moss above us. Then the house exploded. A cloud of fire and multicolored smoke flared so high that no one could’ve escaped it. This was the Lydia I’d learned about. The fierce assassin. The woman who saved the world.
She sat under the tree between Sophia and I as sirens wailed in the background.
“Last moments as me,” she said. “Maybe I should pray.” She laughed then looked up to the sky. “You’d like that huh, Mom? And Dad, you’d love that I just took out all those creatures. Maybe I’ll get to see you two and get to watch her from up there.” She chuckled again, sadder this time. “Yeah right. I don’t even have a chance.”
She wiped her eyes as she stood and breathed a defeated sigh.
We moved with Lydia to a door. She knocked twice before it opened. Julian smiled at his desk. Kamon rushed to the door. "Hold on, my boy," Julian said. "Let me speak with her first. Dreco killed all of the agents, all hunters now answer to me, and I didn't issue and order to kill him. You've had a big night. Haven't you, pet?" Lydia didn't answer. She shivered and Julian laughed. "Kamon, make sure Lydia's room is ready. We don't have time to waste. I've waited long enough. Go ahead and give her credit for Dreco. It's the least we can do."
Julian laughed. “Yes, Master," Kamon said and vanished.
Alone, Julian stood and walked slowly to Lydia. She shivered, and he chuckled.
Lydia closed her eyes. “Julian …”
“Don’t you mean Master?”
“Julian,” she strained. “You won’t be getting any copies from me. This is over.” Her breaths sped, and he reached his hand to her head. She jerked away from him.
"Over?” He laughed. "You wouldn't kill me. You don't have it in you. You're as soft as your father was. I'm surprised you didn't run off and start a family with your mystery guy." He gasped and laughed. "Is that what you've been up to? I'm going to enjoy finding-"
Lydia screamed and reached her hands to his neck. Sophia turned me away. Julian screeched as we flew out of that room and into another. One with padding covering the floor, walls, and ceiling.
Lydia was staring at the wall while four heavily armed soldiers stood in each corner of the room.
“What happened? Go back!” I said.
“She killed Julian.”
“I want to see!” I yelled. I didn’t want to be morbid, but I’d been afraid of this hunter since I read her diary. I was happy that he was dead.
“She would kill me if I showed you that. Literally,” Sophia said. “It was very terrible. Julian was a senator, and she was caught that same day, sitting in the forest about a mile away from his home.”
She didn’t look like the typical prisoner. She was in a padded cell with guns on her. This part wasn’t in the history books.
A door opened, but Lydia didn’t turn around. She just stared, without blinking, at the wall. A tall man with red hair stepped into the room. “Ms. Shaw, we’ve gotten word that you were responsible for the fire that killed the Magical Council.”
“Good. Can I leave?” she asked.
“No, ma’am. I’m afraid not. The scene at Senator Polk’s estate was gory to say the least, you were covered in his blood, and we still have not found the murder weapon. I have a feeling you could’ve left this room the moment we put you in. What are you waiting for? Who else are you waiting to kill?”
“No one.”
“Who do you work for?”
“No one.”
“What are you?”
“Human.”
He offered her a lighter and a needle to prove it. She stuck herself and let her non-magical blood drip over the flame. The interrogator groaned, like he wanted her to have magic. Like it would have explained things.
He left, nodding to the armed guards. Lydia stretched out on the thin bed, staring at the camera on her.
“Does she escape?” I asked. Sophia shook her head. “She could just leave. Why is she staying here?”
“She could run, but she’d be running forever. Her escape would also expose humans with powers, make them the new enemy,” she said. “The government is afraid of her, but they also need her. They made her a deal and gave her a job.”
She snapped and Lydia changed into a suit with her hair groomed neatly in a ponytail. We were in an office. She wasn’t a prisoner anymore. She looked like the Lydia Shaw now.
Someone knocked on her door. “Come in,” Lydia said, leaning into her window with her back to the door.
“Your next case, Your Honor. Witch. Talent level is lethal. The cameras are off.”
“Bring it to the chair, thank you,” she said to the soldier.
The it was Sophia. The present one kissed my hand and frowned. “I’m sorry about what I will say about you. I didn’t know.”
“Okay,” I whispered, my head pounding from crying so hard in the last few memories. The soldier closed the door behind him and Lydia glanced down at her watch.
“You’ve been charged with conspiracy. How do you plead?” she asked, like she’d asked it a million times that day.
“Innocent, Lydia,” the past Sophia said.
She looked over her shoulder and smiled at her former maid. “I’m going to enjoy this,” she said.
“You may want to reconsider that. I know who you really are. What you can really do. The things you and people like you
have already done. You’re just like Julian. You even made one of those things. She looks just like the boy you snuck into Mona’s house. And she’s been screaming at the top of her lungs nonstop since I’ve been watching. She’s disagreeable, just like you. And they’ll kill you and your copy when I tell them, unless you stop this massacre of my people."
Anger flashed across Lydia’s face like it had in Julian’s office. I looked at the Sophia I knew. Her eyes apologized for her.
Sophia looked away as her past self started to choke. Lydia turned back to the window as Sophia fell to her knees. “Sophia, what is she doing to you?” I asked. She rubbed my hand, it felt like she meant, keep watching.
Lydia laughed, the most haunting, insane laugh I’d ever heard. “That’s sweet, Sophia. You didn't even tell anyone what you found. You’re here to make empty threats so your family won’t die.” Sophia wasn’t talking. She must have been in her head. Lydia threw her arm back and opened her hand. Sophia slid across the floor to her. She picked her up by her neck and forced her to stand. “Look at me,” she demanded. Sophia opened her frightened eyes. “You're an idiot, just like the rest of your people who are starving because of a rumor that we can track spells." Sophia pulled at Lydia’s jacket, her face turning blue. Lydia’s eyes watered and spilled over in the next second. “Her name is Christine, and with your last breath, you will apologize to my daughter for calling her such a filthy name. And I will make every member of your family do the same.”
Sophia reached her trembling hands to Lydia’s face, rubbing her cheeks. In a hoarse whisper she managed to say, “Please. I’m sorry. Let me help.”
Lydia freed Sophia, and they stared at each other for a moment, hate still there, both sizing up the other. “She wanted to come get you, but she couldn’t,” my Sophia said to me. “We knew it wouldn’t work out because I’d check the future, she would too. In most of the predictions, you were either killed or abducted by Kamon. In the others, you were miserable, living in hiding with her."
That sounded like a mess of excuses. To me, it looked like Lydia had given up on her marriage and her child.
She snapped again, and we moved to Lydia’s living room in Paris. Her sofa was black then, and a landscape painting was on the wall where her TV currently hung. Sophia brushed past herself with her hands on her hips.