Black Spells & Twisted Souls

by Cece Rose

  “Such a hard choice, but let’s go for the one with the unpronounceable name. It sounds fancy,” I answer sarcastically, going to grab the glasses. I lean right up on my tiptoes to try and grab them. Why the hell do I always put the glasses up on that high shelf?

  “Let me,” Lizzy says. I step aside, but instead of reaching up, which she could easily do, she pulls the glasses down to us with a flick of her fingers instead. They land gently onto the countertop.

  “Show off,” I mutter, pulling the bottle opener out of the drawer.

  “Work magic, not hard,” she quips, taking the bottle opener from me.

  “That easy for you to say. For some of us, magic is hard.”

  “You can grab glasses down from the top shelf using it though, Kay. I don’t know why you make things harder for yourself doing it all the human way.” Her face shows just how confusing it is to her. She’s the kind of witch that uses magic for everything, whereas I use it only when I need to. Grandma always said magic was a gift, and a curse. That it should always be used responsibly, and never just to save myself a few seconds of effort. I’ve never judged Lizzy for how easily she resorts to her magic, but it’s just never been the way I was raised. It wasn’t just my limited magic that stopped me, it was just the way I’ve always been.

  “I guess, the human way is easier for me most of the time. I have less magic than you, remember? Plus, with my bad luck, it doesn’t matter even if I can get the glasses down. I’ll just get distracted somehow and drop them,” I respond humorously. Not that my bad luck is an entertaining matter at this point, but she doesn’t know that.

  “Bad luck? More like extreme clumsiness,” she says, rolling her eyes. She opens the white wine bottle, before pouring us both a very generous glass each. “Do you think you can finish this without spilling any?” She pushes a glass towards me.

  “I can try, but I can’t make any promises,” I answer deadpan. She smiles, but I notice the strain in it. The dark shadows under her eyes also seem more noticeable when she stops moving and is silent for a moment. “Are you okay, Lizzy?”

  She instantly seems to brighten up, her bigger smile coming out. “Of course. Why would you ask me that?”

  “Nothing, just for a second you looked a little tired,” I say, before taking a big swig of my wine. “But I probably look even worse,” I add.

  “I am a little tired,” she admits after a moment or two.

  “Is it Jay’s death?” I ask gently, and she cringes, all but confirming my fears. “You know I didn’t do it, right? You know I’m not capable of that kind of thing?” I question nervously. I don’t know what I’d do if even my best friend thought I was capable of doing such a terrible thing.

  “Of course I know that,” she answers quickly, as if she didn’t even need to think about it. I feel my body sag in relief at the fact she believes me.

  “Then what’s bothering you about it?”

  “I just…” she trails off, and I see her swallow. She takes a moment, and I try to wait patiently for her to explain, not wanting to push her. Whatever it is, it’s clearly hard for her to talk about. “Even though he was an asshole, and even though none of us liked him…” she trails off again, clearing her throat. I try to read her face, but it’s such a twisted mix of emotions that I can’t figure out what she thinking at all. “One day he was there. He was an asshole, but he was there. Now he’s dead. Killed by a witch most-likely with them looking so much at you. What if whoever killed him hurts someone else? What if they hurt you? Or Darren, or Paul, or Mindy. Hell, even that newbie! Gideon, is it?” She licks her lips nervously, before taking a long drink of her wine. Her hand is shaking when she puts the glass down. I reach out and hold it, trying to comfort my best friend anyway I can. I’m never usually a touchy feely person, but I know she is, and that she’ll appreciate it.

  “Lizzy, one person died. I’m not saying anyone deserves to die, but clearly he pissed off the wrong person. It’s not like we have a serial killer in our midst. You can’t let yourself worry about this, or it’ll eat you up inside. Nobody is going to hurt me, Darren, Paul, or anyone else. I’m sure we have nothing to worry about. Once I can convince them it wasn’t me, hopefully they’ll find the real killer, and we can all move on from this mess.” I squeeze her hand. “I promise, I have no intention of being murdered anytime soon.”

  She looks at me, and I can see the unshed tears building up in her eyes. “You’re like a sister to me, Kay. What if you get hurt? What if they lock you up for something you didn’t do? What if the real killer notices the suspicion on you, and uses that against you,” she asks me. She sounds so scared, and I hate it.

  The feeling of unsettled waves crashing through my entire body takes over. It’s like I’m drowning underneath them, every breath getting harder. Lizzy was always calm, collected, and in control. Seeing her so vulnerable makes it hit home how serious this situation really is. I was to shake from fear with her, but my friend doesn’t need that from me right now. I take a deep breath and try to centre myself.

  I look back up at her, trying to project a confidence and determination in my voice and expression that I don’t truly have. “We’re going to be fine, I promise. We’ve just got to ride this out until the witch who did this is caught.”

  She nods a little unsurely, looking a little better, but not completely convinced. “Okay, Kayla.”

  “Now, let’s pour some more wine, and talk about something else. What is your latest Netflix binge? Did you watch that new prison drama you were talking about the other day yet?” I ask. Somehow, despite having a much busier social life than I do, she manages to have seen more TV shows than there should be free hours in the day.

  The change in topic seems to work, she brightens up as she begins blabbing on about the show. I tune out, nodding and making impressed noises in all the right places. Inside my head a much more important conversation is happening.

  What the hell am I going to do about this huge mess? And how am I going to protect my friend from enduring anymore stress from it?

  Twelve

  A is for Arrogant

  A dishevelled looking Darren opens the door, heaving with exertion. My eyes dart all over him, from his messy hair, to his torn shirt, to the sweat beading on his brow.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask immediately, overwhelmed with concern from seeing the distressed state of him.

  He gives me the most incredulous look. “What the hell do you think is wrong? I tried calling you ten times! That thing moves way faster than any cat should!”

  “My phone didn’t go off,” I protest innocently, reaching into my back pocket to pull it out. I try to turn on the screen to show that there are no missed calls, but nothing happens. It’s completely dead. “I don’t know how the battery died already. I charged it all night. I’m so sorry.” A loud crash comes from inside and he turns to rush back towards the source of the noise without a word. I follow him in, kicking the door shut behind me.

  I gape at the sight that greets me in the living area. Solas has leapt up onto some man, and is clawing at his head and face. Hissing like a banshee as he attacks. Darren rushes straight in, trying to pry the demon cat off from the dark-haired man. From the scratches littered on his arms, I can’t help but think this isn’t his first attempt at getting Solas away from him.

  “Get off him! Stop this, right now!” I yell at Solas, snapping out of my staring. Darren stumbles back with the demon cat in his hands, and Solas easily wriggles free and jumps to the ground, stalking towards me.

  “Do you know who that is, little witch? How much I want to claw his face off, how I want to tear him limb from bloody limb.” He stops dead in front of me, looking up with glaring feline eyes. “You will allow me to kill him, and I will give you anything you desire,” he offers. I roll my eyes. He already owes me one favour he hasn’t been able to deliver on. I lean down and pick him up, petting his head as if he’s an actual cat. He looks at me like I’m a lunatic.

  “It’s
okay, kitty. I’m sorry for leaving you with strangers,” I coo, before turning around away from Darren and his friend, still petting the demon cat. I lean down and whisper, “Shut up and behave. Goddess, damn it. He cannot know what you are.”

  He huffs at me and begins to wriggle. I turn, putting the demon cat on the sofa gently. I force an apologetic smile onto my face as I look up. “I’m so sorry, Damon hates strangers if I don’t introduce them properly. I don’t know what’s up with him to be this upset though.” I freeze as my eyes lay on the man. He looks at me in mirrored horror for just a second, before his face flickers to an empty smile.

  “Kayla, this is one of my oldest friends. He dropped by unexpectedly, and your cat went a little psychotic,” Darren says tensely, glaring down at Solas as he introduces us. I’m glad he was looking away, as there’s no way he’d have missed the shock that I’m sure is painted on my face.

  “Oh, so you’re Kayla? It’s nice to finally meet you. Why don’t you explain what the hell is wrong with your familiar?” the man asks casually.

  I gape at him. How could he be here? How could he be friends with Darren of all people? His face is a little less pretty with a few scratches on his face, but the attractive man with the jet black hair was unmistakable. He was the fae I had met two days ago, and he didn’t want Darren to know we knew each other.

  “Not one for talking then is she?” he asks Darren, as I’m still standing left completely speechless. “My name is Rhydian, I’m a close friend of Darren’s. Thank you for calling your rabid familiar off of me. I won’t demand the creature’s execution this time, as I know how attached witches are to their familiars.”

  Solas hisses, and I turn to glare at him too. I wish I could communicate with him without the two of them hearing my words. I really want to know how the demon knows him, and what he’s done that caused so much wrath from the demon. Should a person like that really be one of Darren’s friends? I try and shake off the thought. It’s not my place to worry about that. Plus, who was I to judge. Solas wants me dead too.

  “Kayla?” Darren prods, looking warily between me and Solas. He’s clearly worried my silence would draw more suspicion on the demon.

  “Sorry,” I say quickly, looking back up at Rhydian. “I’m just a little concerned about the little guy. Damon isn’t usually this bad, even if he does hate strangers. I think maybe I need to get him checked out, so we should probably be going.”

  “So soon?” Rhydian says, his eyes dancing with amusement. I feel like he can sense how uncomfortable I am with keeping the secret of our actual meeting, and it seems to freaking amuse him. He turns to Darren, opening his mouth to say something when Darren turns his head towards the door.

  “Someone’s there,” he says quietly, before walking off to see who it is. I hear the knock just as he reaches it. Curiously, I lean around, trying to see who it is. A boy, no older than fourteen or fifteen is standing by the door.

  “I need your help,” he says quickly in voice wrought with panic.

  Darren takes just one look at the trembling teenager, and turns in our direction. “I’ve got to take care of this, I’ll be back as soon as I can. You can see Kayla out for me, right?” he asks his friend.

  “Of course,” Rhydian answers quickly with a broad smile. Darren casts a nervous glance between the two of us, before hardening his expression and heading off after the teen who’d already starting moving the second Darren had spoken.

  “Any idea who that was?” I ask curiously. I’d never met any of Darren’s other friends or family before today.

  Rhydian shrugs. “I don’t know. Some mutt from the pack, I guess.”

  I cross my arms over my chest and look up at his face. The scratches are already fading. I watch them curiously. I knew that like some other creatures fae had increased healing ability, but this is pretty damn fast acting. Witches heal quicker than a human, but slower than any other supernatural race. Considering that genetically witches are closer to humans than any other species are, it isn’t all that surprising, but super annoying.

  “How do you know Darren?” I ask.

  “Like I said, we’ve been friends for a very long time,” he answers evasively.

  “That’s not really much of an answer.”

  “I know. Are all witches as nosy as you are?”

  “Are all fae as downright inappropriate as you are?” I question him back, narrowing my eyes. He laughs.

  “You do recognise me then, I thought you would. I didn’t know who you were. I would have been less inappropriate had I known, considering your history with Darren,” he says.

  “Really?” I ask, and he seems to think about it for just a second or two.

  “No, I probably would have acted exactly the same. You were looking way too sexy and flustered to ignore,” he answers, sending a weird shiver down my back. Solas hisses, snagging back my attention. Rhydian looks down at him curiously. “That really is a strange pet you have there.”

  I reach down and scratch behind the demon’s ear, hoping like hell that Solas doesn’t add this to the list of things he wants to kill me for doing. “He’s just a little stressed from staying with Darren I think. Again, I’m really sorry he attacked you.”

  “Your apology is accepted. I’ve never been a cat person though, they just look a little evil to me. This situation has only reinforced my belief,” he says humorously.

  I look around the room awkwardly, wanting to ask something, but feeling weird about it. As I glance at the fireplace, I notice that one of the three photos from yesterday has been taken down. All that remains are the photos of his parents which have always been there. Shrugging it off as me imagining things, I turn back to Rhydian. “Why did you pretend like we hadn’t met before?”

  He smiles. It’s an oddly satisfied smile, like a cat that just got the cream. “Darren’s spoken a lot about you, Kayla. I know you dated briefly, and that you became friends again once he started working with you. How do you think he’d like knowing that I came onto his ex in a sex shop of all places to meet you? That had I had a just little more free time that day, I’d have brought you home with me, made your earth and stars move, and sent you away without ever knowing your name? How do you think that would have gone down?”

  Rendered speechless, I look anywhere but him. Seeing that Solas is giving Rhydian a dirty look, and is poised to pounce at him, I clear my throat. He looks up at me for a second, before relaxing his pose. I swallow, trying to calm myself before responding. “You really think if you had just a little more time, that I’d have gone home with you?” I ask sceptically, unamused by his self-obsessed attitude. Earth and stars move? Who the hell does this asshole think he is?

  “Judging from how flustered you are at my saying so, I think you’d very much come home with me given the chance,” he answers confidently.

  “Are you always this arrogant?”

  “Always. The a in fae is for arrogance after all.”

  “And what? The f is for funny? Because you’re really not,” I snap back.

  He smirks, stepping closer as he slowly runs his eyes over me. “No, the f is for something else. Something we’re very fucking good at.”

  “And the e?” I choke out, unable to believe he was still flirting with me. Some friend he is to Darren.

  “I’ll tell you that one another time,” he promises, looking more amused than ever. The verbal back and forth seemed to be something he easily thrived on, never skipping a beat to answer anything. Whereas I’m constantly finding myself choking on my words about him. He’s ridiculous. Stupid fae, with his stupid damn flirtation assault.

  “I’ve got to go now,” I say, suddenly feeling oddly guilty for partaking in this weird exchange. I head for the doorway, hearing Solas jump down off the sofa and follow after me. Unfortunately, his aren’t the only steps I hear.

  “I’m sure this means that I should stay away from you, but if anything, it makes me even more determined to seduce you,” he calls after me, making me fre
eze. He cannot be being serious…but then again, maybe he is. He’s not exactly shy in his pursuit.

  “Typical fae attitude,” I mutter, but he catches it.

  “Don’t worry about being quiet, sweetheart. Darren’s probably all the way on the other side of his pack lands by now, so he can’t hear a damn thing. Unless, you’d like him to hear? Maybe you’d even like him to watch, too.” I whirl around, gaping at him like a moronic fish. He looks sinfully satisfied at the shock his words bring to me. The flame in my cheeks is burning against my pale skin. I breathe in and out, trying to regain some composure. I wouldn’t let him control me, now that I know what he is, I would resist his fae charm.

  “You’re disgusting. Beautiful on the outside, I won’t deny that, but you’re twisted inside.” I look straight into his startled eyes. “He is your friend. Doing something you know is wrong, that you know would cause him pain, now that is a very crappy thing to do.”

  He laughs, but it’s hollow. “Don’t forget, Sweetheart, you have a choice in this too. You could reject my advances, choose not to flirt back, but I know that you won’t. You won’t be able to resist me, and it’ll be you choosing to knock on my door one day. Me, I’m only a slave to my nature here. As witches are slaves to the call of magic, as shifters are slaves to their animalistic tendencies, I am a slave to desire. And I’ve decided that I desire you very much, Kayla.”

  I shake my head at him, a sickening realisation hitting me. “You don’t desire me at all. You desire the challenge of getting me, the thrill of winning some sick game with yourself. Well, too bad. This is one challenge you won’t be able to win, I am not game, and neither is Darren. If you were really a friend of his, you realise that too.” I turn on my heel, not giving him a chance to say anything back as I stride out the front door, a demon cat trailing right at my heels. Damn it feels good to get the last word.