by Freya Black
When the man of your actual dreams rejects you, what difference does it make if you break a few things?
It wasn’t like anyone was around to watch.
A sudden darkness washed over me. Before I accidentally set the forest on fire, I had to get away from Sloane. I raced past him, up the narrow dirt path leading back to my house. The ground, still mushy from the rain, squeaked under my sneakers.
What kind of idiot falls for a Hexenjager? I wanted to kick myself for being such a fool.
Sloane closed the gap, churning up a pile of leaves that swirled around his head. His fingers laced between mine, and before I knew it, I was in his arms. He brushed away strands of hair off my forehead and cupped my face in his hands. I looked up at the moon and the energy it provided, which helped me regain control of my emotions.
“I’m sorry,” Sloane said with a hint of remorse in his voice. “I keep screwing this up, and I’m trying to do the right thing.” He paused for a second, attempting to find the right words. “It’s just…you’re so beautiful, even more beautiful than the girl I remember, and I keep saying and doing stupid things. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you, Nona.”
I had no idea how to respond. Kate had warned me about his kind and their ability to manipulate mortals by taking form of someone they trusted. I didn’t remember Sloane Blackwell. All I knew was that his family had died in a tragic accident, and Kate had refused to elaborate. He could’ve cloaked his sigil, an upside-down pentagram inside a circle that marked all Hexenjagers.
What if he’s not a supernatural hunter sent to Arcadia to steal my powers? The idea made me uneasy.
His eyebrow rose in suspicion when I inspected his wrist, looking for the mark of evil. Sloane felt real even if his presence was a figment of my imagination, a Glamour to trick me.
No one had ever looked at me the way he did. I didn’t move when Sloane pressed his lips to mine. They were soft and wonderful, but I refused to kiss him back. My mouth stretched into a tight line, and just when I was about to give in, something strange happened. The tingling sensation I felt when we touched magnified to the point that my vision blurred. I hunched over, taking in shallow breaths, as the ground collapsed beneath my feet.
“Fiona, are you okay?” Sloane asked, clutching my hand tighter.
“Something’s wrong. Take me to Kate,” I choked out.
He hooked his arm around my back and rested my head on his chest. His heart pounded in my ears, each beat growing louder. I closed my eyes and listened to the thump, thump, thump reverberate in my ear. My mind slowly drifted between consciousness and a dream state. I was aware of my surroundings until images began to wrap around me, and then I lost my will to fight.
In my backyard, I lay on the ground, my hair fanned out on the grass. Streaks of light burst from the clouds that floated across the perfect blue sky. A little boy held my hand, his wavy black hair falling in his face when he kissed my cheek. He flipped up his sunglasses that seemed too big for his face and smiled.
“You’re going to get dirty, Nona,” he said, staring at my yellow eyelet dress. “At least let my mom take your picture before you ruin this one.”
I sat up and giggled. My voice was full of childish laughter that reminded me of happier times. I brushed the dirt off my dress and combed a leaf from my golden curls. He was so mature for a kid his age, but so was I. Spending most of my time around adults had made me grow up faster. My special talents also made it impossible to play with normal children.
“Sloane,” I said, my voice low and squeaky, “will we be together forever?”
He nodded and slumped next to me on the grass.
“Promise?” I asked, sounding hopeful.
“No matter what, I promise.” He twisted his fingers between mine and kissed the top of my hand, making me feel like a queen. “I’ll never leave you, Nona.”
When I opened my eyes, I stumbled backward, almost falling over a log. My brain failed to communicate with my body.
“What did you do to me?” I yelled, my voice echoing through the forest. “You keep making me see what you want me to see, and I’m getting sick of it. You can’t go digging in my head, messing with my visions when you see fit. Stop manipulating me into thinking that we know each other and that we were friends. Sloane Blackwell and his family died in an accident. You’re not him, so stop pretending you are, and tell me what you want from me.”
“I don’t want anything from you,” he said with a tinge of irritation in his voice. “I just wanted to see you again, but I can see that this was a waste of time.”
I stomped down the path, my powers surging through my veins. A gust of wind rustled the canopy, shaking leaves free, as I headed toward my house. Tears streaked my cheeks, and I wasn’t sure why I was crying, but it felt good to let it out.
I looked over my shoulder and shoved my hands in the pockets of my hoodie. Sloane was gone, vanished into thin air. I ran the rest of the way home, trying to keep my anger from destroying everything around me.
Chapter 7
The next morning, I ran through the woods, searching once again for a sign that Sloane was real. Strange things happened in the dark, and in the light of day, I thought I would find answers. My theory, which seemed concrete in my mind, was completely flawed. A creature as magically talented as a Hexenjager wouldn’t leave a speck of proof, but I looked anyway, desperate for the truth. I needed to know that I wasn’t crazy, that I hadn’t made the whole thing up.
That night, after dinner, I walked across the long driveway to Declan’s house. Next to the monstrosity that was the Cleary Estate, his small Colonial looked like a guesthouse. Neglected beyond repair, vines twisted up the brick walls, and leaves clogged the gutters. The steps had crumbled after our last harsh winter, making the front of his house appear as though it were sinking.
There was no such thing as a poor witch, especially not in Arcadia. Kate provided for our Coven from our family’s trust. She’d set up a large endowment after Declan’s father had passed, but Lillian refused to step out of her house, let alone maintain it. On occasion, Declan and I had been tempted to use magic. We didn’t see the harm in sprucing up the place, except that Kate had forbidden it.
Lillian answered the door in a pair of canary-yellow-and-baby-blue-striped pajamas that hung from her invisible frame. Her disheveled brown hair was spiked up in various places.
“Hello, dear,” Lillian said, holding the fiberglass door in her hand. At one time, it’d been painted red to match the shutters, but it had faded to a dark pink over the years. And she wouldn’t allow Declan to fix a single thing. Lillian tried to preserve what she had left of Declan’s father.
I gave a polite nod and stepped into the foyer. “Lillian, how are you?”
Her face brightened for a second and then sank back to her normal frown. “Same old, same old,” she mumbled, dragging her slippers against the warped wooden planks.
She ushered me down the hall, past the dark living room that had become a shrine to Declan’s father. Strips of gray paper peeling off the walls at the seams. Old bowling trophies were perched on the mantel. Philadelphia Eagles jerseys were framed on the walls. A sixty-inch picture tube television rested on the frayed carpet. What had once been the Sunday football hub was now Lillian’s bedroom. She was as depressed as the house, and despite Declan’s efforts, she was content with resuming her unusual behavior.
Celeste had beaten me to Declan’s because I’d had to stay late to help Kate close the store. I could hear Celeste yelling in the basement, her voice projecting up the stairs, as if she were standing next to me. Curious about the commotion, I made my way downstairs. The narrow steps creaked below my feet, complaining with each movement. Cinder-block walls spray-painted dark gray had car posters taped to them. Exposed wood beams ran along the length of the ceiling. The concrete floor, covered in mismatched area rugs, was indicative of Declan’s personality.
He greeted me at the bottom of the stairs with a silly grin and a bear hu
g. My head fit perfectly below his chin, and I nestled against his chest.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said. His long-sleeved coveralls smelled like motor oil and a hint of citrus musk cologne. Between school and football, Declan would work at Sal’s Auto Body where his father had been a mechanic.
When Declan had turned sixteen, Sal had let him pay off the parts he’d needed to fix Shelby by helping out around the shop. He’d paid off the debt within six months, but he continued to work there because it reminded him of his father. Similar to how Enchanted Books & Beans made me feel safe and secure, a special connection I had to my mother, with Declan, Sal’s held a piece of his father.
“Oh my God, where have you been, chickie?” Celeste squealed from behind him. She threw her arms out, the sleeves of her white peasant top flapping at her sides. Her chestnut hair was piled on top of her head in a ponytail, tied neatly with a purple silk scarf.
“The usual.” I shrugged. “You know, stalking Hexenjagers.”
Celeste lured me to the shabby microfiber couch in front of the flat screen television. She pressed her back against the arm and patted my knee. “So, what happened? Tell me everything.”
Declan settled into the space next to me, clicking buttons on the remote. He flipped through the channels, and when he skipped over How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, Celeste reached behind me, cleared her throat, and smacked his cushion.
“I’m not watching that again,” Declan said, rolling his eyes. “I’ve seen enough chick flicks to last a lifetime.”
She smacked him in the back of the head with a pillow and laughed. “What’s one more?”
They fought like an old married couple, constantly bickering over stupid things. We’d been friends since we were five years old, but Celeste enjoyed torturing Declan more than what I considered normal. He was the closest thing to a brother either of us had, and she didn’t mind treating him like it.
“You two, stop it,” I scolded. “We’ve seen that movie a thousand times. If you want to hear about the Hexenjager, let Declan watch whatever he wants.”
“Okay.” Celeste smirked at Declan and stuck out her tongue. “The TV is yours, Delaney.”
He covered his heart with his hand and deadpanned, “Aren’t you a sweetheart?”
She hit him once more for good measure and shoved the pillow behind her. She flattened her hands over her pants and straightened her shirt. “All right, so what happened?”
“Well, let’s see…I followed him into the woods. Then, I confronted him, asked him to kiss me—”
“You kissed him?” Declan interrupted. His eyebrows scrunched together, and the remote hit the coffee table with a loud thud.
“No,” I said, defending myself. “He didn’t want to kiss me.” The bitter edge to my voice made Sloane’s rejection hurt all over again. I was offended, maybe even a little chagrined now that it was out in the open.
Celeste tapped me on the arm, a silly expression on her face. “I guess they don’t have a pulse after all. He’d be an idiot not to want you.”
“But you would’ve kissed him?” Declan asked, his voice accusatory and disgusted. He crossed his arms over his chest with a sullen pout.
I hadn’t seen him that irritated since Shelby had broken down on the interstate.
“Yeah,” I said, recalling the scent of Sloane’s skin and the warmth of his breath on my lips. “It’s not like I planned it. When I’m around him, it’s like I’m under a spell.”
“You need to stay away from him,” Declan snapped. “He could hurt you, and if anything happened to you—”
“Dec, I’m fine.” I slid my arm across his neck and collapsed into his arms. “I know you’re trying to be the overprotective big brother, but I can handle myself.”
His eyes shifted from a bright emerald green to a mossy shade that reminded me of the Arcadian forest.
Elemental powers had an effect on a person’s mood. The fire that burned inside Declan, as a Pyromancer, affected him more than Celeste and the aquatic energy flowing through her veins.
“You’re all I’ve got,” he said. The pain behind his words hit me like a punch in the gut. “Promise me, you’ll stay away from him.”
I bit my bottom lip, focusing my attention on the Mustang Fastback poster plastered on the wall behind his head. For a minute, I stared at the car and admired its Acapulco blue paint with white racing stripes. Then, I looked down at Declan. Seeing his eyes full of hope made my heart sink to my stomach. I held my pinkie finger in the air, knowing I couldn’t agree to stay away from Sloane. Even if I wanted to, he could find me whenever he pleased.
“Pinkie promise,” I said.
Declan hooked his finger around mine with a smile.
Chapter 8
My summer had come and gone as quickly as our mysterious visitor, and September was rapidly approaching. The air was crisp, much colder than normal for this time of year. In less than a month, I’d swapped out shorts and tank tops for jeans and long-sleeved shirts.
To celebrate our freshman year of college, Declan’s friends decided to throw a bonfire party in the woods. I detested Marco, but I didn’t want to hold Declan back.
After work, Declan stopped by Enchanted Books & Beans. He waltzed through the door in navy coveralls, unbuttoned at the top, showing a white T-shirt underneath. His shaggy brown hair was tousled, and on anyone else, it would have looked like a complete mess, but something about his unkempt appearance made him more attractive.
“You ready?” he asked, sliding onto the barstool in front of me.
“Almost,” I said, removing the cash drawer from the register. “Celeste is in the restroom, getting changed, and I need to take this back to Kate.” I pointed at his grease-stained work clothes and gave him a disapproving look. “You’re not wearing that, I hope.”
He popped open the buttons, the polyester suit dropping to the floor, and held his arms out at his sides. Underneath were black mesh basketball shorts and a Sal’s Auto Body T-shirt. “Does this meet your standards?” he deadpanned.
“It will do,” I said, a derisive chuckle escaping my lips.
Celeste appeared from the back hallway, dressed in a turquoise scoop-neck shirt and black leggings. She twisted her hair into a bun that looked elegant and not at all messy, not like when I did it. Just like Kate, when it came to hair and makeup, Celeste could perform miracles.
I walked toward her, the plastic drawer clutched against my chest.
“Think fast,” she said, throwing a crimson off-the-shoulder tunic at me.
With my palm, I used my telepathic abilities to hold the garment in the air. As I passed Celeste, I grabbed it with my free hand and winked.
Inside the office, Kate sat behind an oversize mahogany desk, piled with leather journals and packing slips. Decorated in the same purple-and-gold damask wallpaper as the rest of the store, the room was a touch larger than my bedroom. I plopped down in one of the antique clubfoot chairs surrounding the desk.
Twice, I counted the stacks of bills, and when Kate was satisfied, I handed over my till. I slipped the tunic over my head and scowled at my appearance in the floor-length mirror on the back wall. Despite my attempt to mask the scent with Kate’s flowery perfume, I still smelled like fresh ground coffee. The circles under my eyes were darker, more defined. I hoped no one would notice the blood breaking the surface.
“Now, remember,” Kate said, her voice sounding somewhat stern, “no drinking. You know how that affects your powers. I can’t have you losing control in front of a bunch of drunk Norms.”
The last time I’d drank Kate and our Coven had to do serious damage control to avoid a visit from the Imperium Council. We used Memory spells on Norms more often than we liked, reserving them for emergencies. Although allowed, the Council frowned upon its use in our world.
“Don’t worry.” I flipped my head upside down and raked my fingers through my hair to add some much-needed volume. “I know my limits. Trust me, I learned the hard way.”
&nbs
p; “That’s what you said the last time,” she snapped as she stood. “I’m not explaining another incident that I have to clean up to the Council. You got it?”
I nodded my head, afraid to challenge her rules.
For the most part, Kate was my best friend, aside from Declan and Celeste, but when she put her foot down, I’d listen. Sometimes, it was hard to distinguish between her role as mother and friend. Even when my parents had been alive, Kate had raised me. My mother had been busy with the Coven and her Magisterial Council duties, and it was at Enchanted Books & Beans where my mother and I bonded.
As a magic practitioner, Kate was born without a divine power. Most of what I’d learned about magic had come from my parents. But Kate had tended to my scraped knees, packed my lunches for school, made sure I’d finished my homework, and forced me to make my bed.
I slid a wand of pink gloss across my lips and smacked them together. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” Kate said, her French tips gliding down my back. “You know how much I worry about you. Just be careful, sweetie.”
“Will do,” I said before closing the office door behind me.
Celeste and I walked with Declan through the Arcadian forest, following the sounds of laughter that led to the old campground. At the center of a blazing fire, we found most of our classmates sitting on beat up microfiber couches. Marco manned the keg of beer and handed out red plastic cups. A circle of girls who pretended to laugh at his jokes hovered around him. Declan made a beeline toward Marco with Celeste and me in tow.
A much as I wanted to drink, I kept my promise to Kate and remained sober. I mingled with the track team, sipping on a bottle of water.
Sometimes, after school, I would run the perimeter of Arcadia with them for fun. Coach Bryant had tried to recruit me a few times, but I had no interest in organized sports. Plus, adrenaline was too much of a trigger for me. Kate had said the risk was not worth the reward, and I’d agreed.