Awakening

by Catrina Burgess

  “Are you all right?” Darla asked, coming to my side.

  The words came out in a harsh whisper. “I’m fine. I skipped a couple meals.”

  It had been at least three days since food had passed my mouth. I had forced myself to drink, but every time I had tried to eat the images had come and the nausea had set in.

  “I just felt dizzy for a second. There’s no need to make a fuss.” My voice sounded unbelievably weak even to my own ears.

  Darla bent down, and her fingers grazed across my forehead. “She’s not okay. Luke, bring her upstairs.”

  I began to slump and Luke reached out and put an arm around my waist, supporting me.

  I tried to pull myself out of his grip, but he was extremely strong. “You can let me go, I’m okay.”

  “Darla, lock up the shop. With the Triads out there, best thing to do is lock up and sit tight until they get bored and move on.” He ignored my protest and began to lead me behind the counter and through a doorway into a small hallway.

  I felt like a helpless rag doll in his arms as he moved us along the hall to the foot of a wooden staircase.

  “Since you can’t leave, you might as well come upstairs. We haven’t had a chance to eat. We can get some food into you. Can you make it up the stairs?” The harshness had left his voice. He sounded almost kind.

  “I’m fine, I just need to…” I couldn’t finish the sentence, the world around me started to fade away.

  “Hey, don’t pass out.” He leaned down and lifted me into his arms.

  He carried me up the stairs and delivered me across a large room onto a brown couch sitting against a bright red painted wall.

  I needed a moment to catch my breath and gather my strength. Showing so much weakness in front of strangers embarrassed me. I had been an idiot to go so long without food. Sleep was something I was not doing a lot of lately. Every time I closed my eyes the nightmares rushed in. It wasn’t surprising my body suddenly rebelled and gave way. I’d lie here for a minute or two, catch my breath, and then head out.

  Suddenly he was standing over me. He had a bottle of soda in one hand and two plastic glasses in the other.

  He handed over the bottle and the glasses. “We’ve got some cheese and salami in the fridge. Darla picked up some fresh bread at the local bakery this morning.”

  What choice did I have? If I kept going this way, I’d end up passed out on the streets.

  I looked up at him and forced a smile. “Thanks for the dinner invite. I accept.”

  * * * *

  The food was good. I ate until I couldn’t take another bite. My coat was now draped next to me on the couch. I leaned back against the leather cushions and relaxed for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime.

  My gaze kept going to Luke. There was little resemblance to the imposing figure I had dealt with down in the store-front. Luke relaxed upstairs. He hadn’t said much while we ate, and now he sat back in his chair finishing a bite of bread.

  Every time I glanced his way he was looking at me, his stare openly inquisitive.

  He was not what I had expected. He didn’t hide like the rest of the members of his guild. People knew about the shop, and they came to it looking for things they needed to work spells. He was wearing a phoenix on his t-shirt for God sakes. This was not a guy trying to keep to the shadows--this was a guy living openly in a society that deeply despised his kind. Did he feel alienated? Did he have friends outside his guild?

  And what about his sister, Darla? I wondered if she practiced the arts. She sat quietly finishing off her meal. It was hard to tell if someone possessed magic just by looking at them. Was she also a death dealer? Would the Phoenix Guild initiate someone so young?

  I wondered how different her life was from mine. I had become a healer like my mother and her mother before her. The path to becoming a healer did start at fifteen, but at that age I had only learned the basics about plants and medicine. Mama hadn’t allowed me to delve into the magics that went along with healing until I hit my seventeenth birthday. I had started my training three months ago and, in that time, I’d learned as much as I could as fast as I could.

  No other career choice had ever entered my mind. It had been taken for granted that I would follow in my family’s footsteps, and honestly I didn’t have any regrets. I especially loved working with plants--being out in the sunshine, my hands pushed into the dirt of mother earth, growing fragile things with care and love, creating medicines to heal the sick. Mixing potions, learning the craft that had been passed down through the generations--there was no part of being a healer that hadn’t made my heart swell with joy and had me leaping out of bed every morning full of excitement. The world had seemed a place of endless possibilities.

  But all of that was now behind me, and the path before me was full of shadows and darkness. I was going to become a death dealer, and I didn’t have the faintest idea what kind of lives they led.

  I took a good look at my surroundings. I was in a studio apartment, but the space was enormous. A well outfitted kitchen with granite counters and cherry cabinets stood at one side of the room. The middle area had been arranged as a living room and office. A couch lay against the wall on a large patterned rug surrounded by two oversized chairs. To the right of the couch, in front of a row of tall windows, stood a desk with a laptop computer and printer. Next to the desk was a small row of black metal cabinets. On the other side of the room were three large partitions--walls that didn’t quite make it all the way up to the ceiling. Bedrooms, I imagined.

  “This is a nice place.” It was an expensive place. Every piece of furniture, every knickknack, screamed money.

  “It’s my uncle’s.” Luke leaned forward and put his plate down on an old blue steamer trunk which served as a table for our meal. “Are you going to tell us what brought you here?”

  “Good food, terrific soda, what’s not to like?” My answer brought a scowl to his face, but I wasn’t going to be intimidated. I was the one paying for his services, and I wasn’t about to fill him in on the details of my life. “My understanding is that your type of work comes with a certain assurance of anonymity. Like when you pay a shrink or a lawyer.”

  “Client confidentiality.” He leaned back in his chair and took on a thoughtful expression.

  “Exactly.” I poured myself another glass of soda.

  He watched me in silence for a few moments. “I would like to know who pointed you to our doorstep.”

  Again with the questions.

  “Someone who wishes to remain anonymous.”

  He could keep asking questions, and I would keep being evasive. This was going to be a long couple of hours.

  “A lot of people know the type of work we do, but most of them, I’d imagine, wouldn’t run in the same social circles as someone like you.”

  The way he said ‘social circles’ made it clear it wasn’t a compliment.

  “And what would you know about the social circles I run in?”

  He took his time answering, his eyes scanning slowly over my appearance. “I haven’t seen you in this part of town before. If I had to guess, I would figure you for a Middleton gal.”

  Middleton--a quiet, sleepy suburb about thirty minutes from the city. He wasn’t wrong. I’d lived on the outskirts of Middleton most of my life.

  “Let me guess, your father is a plumber and your mother a school teacher.”

  Actually, he couldn’t have been further off the mark. I forced a smile onto my face. “Do you do fortunes? Are you going to tell me my horoscope next?”

  “Not something I normally dabble in, but I could if you wanted me to.” His eyes focused on me in a way I found disconcerting, especially when they began to change color, from dark gray to a warm caramel. Eye color didn’t naturally change in seconds, but one thing could make the transformation happen I knew from experience--magic.

  “Stay out of my head,” I said with as much force as I could muster.

  Darla spoke up, “Luke, st
op being so rude.”

  “Why? What’s she trying to hide?” He looked over at Darla, an amused expression on his face. “Does she have top government secrets hidden away in the recesses of her mind?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he got up from his chair and started clearing away the dishes.

  “I’m the private ‘no trespassing allowed’ type. Let’s leave it at that,” I answered quietly to his retreating back.

  He spun around so fast my breath hitched in the back of my throat. He put the dishes down none too gently, and they rattled loudly as they hit the surface of the trunk. “What’re you really doing here?”

  I closed my hands around my now empty plastic cup, crushing it. I took a deep breath and relaxed my grip. I wouldn’t be scared off by this guy. I had food in my stomach, and I was feeling less shaky. I needed him to help me, and it would be even better if I could get him to see me as strong and capable.

  I took a deliberately long pause before answering, “Paying you a lot of money.”

  He took a step toward me. “To learn the dark arts?”

  I could almost feel the wave of violence and intimidation wash over him. He clenched his fists and towered over me menacingly. Here, I was in this stranger’s apartment. No one knew where I was. At any moment, he could decide I was not worth the hassle and--what? Kill me? He already had my money. I‘d paid him the money upfront like an idiot. I had heard stories about his kind. Most of them seemed outlandish, but I knew there was truth buried within the tall tales. Anger I could handle, but not violence, not now, not after what had happened. At the very thought of it, my stomach clenched and my mouth trembled.

  I looked over at Darla. She was watching us, her expression sullen. So far she’d shown me only kindness. She wouldn’t let him hurt me, I was almost certain of it.

  He glared down at me, and I tried to look confident and fearless, but I didn’t trust my voice betraying me, so I nodded.

  “Why did you come here? Why are you so desperate to learn the dark magics?”

  I forced myself to sit up. I used to have a backbone, and if there was ever a time to show it, it was now. I wouldn’t tremble like a scared rabbit in front of this guy anymore. I could feel the anger growing within me. I tried to hold on to the feeling, will it along, forcing the flames of it to warm my blood and fuel my words.

  “Why does it matter? I need to learn, and a friend told me that I could find someone here who would teach me!”

  My reaction didn’t seem to surprise him. He’d been pushing, and I’d finally pushed back.

  The anger abandoned me as suddenly as it had come. “Look, you guys seem pretty open about what you do. The shop even has a phoenix on its sign. It’s not like you’re hiding who you are.”

  “I’m not ashamed of what I am.”

  “A lot of people don’t share that view.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Are you one of them?”

  I slumped back against the pillows. “I’m the live and let live type.”

  His face softened, and he took a step back. “A healer.”

  “I told you I was.” I was so tired, so sick of all the questions. All I wanted to do was go somewhere safe, somewhere where I could try and get some rest.

  “But not now?”

  Why did he keep pushing? When I put down the cup, my hands were openly shaking again. “Not anymore.”

  “I’ve never heard of one of your kind walking away from the calling.” His voice was softer now, less demanding.

  I was anxious to change the subject. I knew the Triads were one of the largest street gangs in the city. They were mostly mage born--many of them vicious human beings. Part mage and a whole lot of natural born killer types--a deadly combination any way you looked at it.

  “You said the Triads are out in the streets causing havoc. Do they do that a lot?”

  “Recently more than usual.”

  “So it’s not safe for me out there?”

  “No.”

  Those dark eyes were watching me. Once again, I felt like a puzzle he was trying to work out.

  “I could pay you to be my bodyguard and escort me home.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not safe for even the likes of me out there these days.”

  Now that was something. I had never heard of a death dealer being afraid of anything. They were what I considered the top of the magic food chain--the hardest of the mage-born to kill.

  “And you’re proposing what? I should bunk down here tonight?”

  “It’s getting late. The streets are dangerous, and you don’t look like you’re up to fighting off trouble at the moment.” He did a sweeping gesture with his arm that took in his sister. “We are offering a place of refuge.”

  Darla got up and walked over to me. She sat down next to me and patted my hand as if trying to offer some kind of comfort. “We’re about the same size. I have some sweat pants and a t-shirt I could lend you. Luke’s right, it’s not safe out there. You should stay with us.”

  It had been a long time since anyone had offered to help me. I wanted to say no, but it would be foolish to go out and risk my life.

  I moved my hand away but gave her a smile so she wouldn’t be offended. “I’ll take you up on the clothes, but what I could go for right now is a hot shower.”

  She pointed across the room. “The bathroom’s over there. You can find clean towels in the cupboard.”

  * * * *

  The tub was an old-fashioned one. It had a metal circle at the top that held a white and black polka dot shower curtain. A hand-held shower head hung from a long retractable metal coil.

  I slumped down on the side of the bathtub and wondered if I had the energy to take a shower. A pile of clean clothes sat on the toilet seat. The hot water would feel good against my skin. It might clean away the dirt, but what about the guilt? Could it wash that away?

  I forced my body up and got undressed. If I had any sense I would get the heck out of here, but I knew I couldn’t. Not yet, not until I got what I needed. I looked in the mirror and shook down my hair. Now free, it came to rest at my shoulders in waves. I turned away from the mirror and stepped into the bathtub. I reached for the shower head and held it over my head with one hand as I turned the knobs with the other. I took a long shower, spraying the hot water back and forth across my body. When I finally got out, I rummaged through cabinet drawers until I came across a towel and boar hair brush. I dried myself, and then took my time brushing my hair. When I was done, I changed into my borrowed clothes.

  Darla was wrong, we weren’t the same size. She might be younger than I was, but she had a lot more curves. Everything was a bit too large. I tied the bottom of the white t-shirt into a knot and pulled the drawstring on the gray sweat pants tight. For some reason, I felt more vulnerable when I came out, even though I was fully clothed. I realized it was because I was wearing someone else’s clothes.

  I was in a strange place, with people I had just met, and I was about to bunk down like a guest. An unwelcome guest. Even though he said I should stay, Luke’s expression was not one of welcome as I came out of the bathroom.

  “You were in there a while.” He was standing against the row of windows. He looked even bigger than I remembered. Was it possible that he’d grown five inches since I stepped into the bathroom? Impossible. It was just the play of shadows against his body.

  “Sorry, did you want to take one? I didn’t mean to hog all the hot water.”

  “I usually take my showers in the morning.”

  I was having a hard time keeping my eyes off him. He’d changed and currently sported no top and a pair of black sweatpants. Those broad shoulders tapered down to a very cut stomach. Suddenly the image of him dripping wet stepping out of the bathtub flashed across my mind. I couldn’t help it--I blushed, and like an idiot, the only thing I could think of to say was, “Oh, okay.”

  “Darla put an extra blanket on the back of the couch in case you get cold.”

  “Thanks. Where is she?”

&nb
sp; He gestured toward one of the partitioned sections. “She went to bed.”

  I stood there feeling like a moron, not sure what to say next.

  He pointed to the couch. “The sheets are fresh, but the pillow is a bit lumpy. We aren’t set up for house guests. I’ll leave the light on in the bathroom and the door ajar, that way you’ll have a bit of light in the room if you get up in the night.”

  “I doubt I will. I’m a pretty sound sleeper.” It wasn’t a lie--not really, I used to be a sound sleeper until the nightmares had set in. Chances were I would wake up in a cold sweat, trembling from head to toe. I desperately hoped I didn’t wake up screaming at the top of my lungs.

  I gave him a smile and moved past him to the couch.

  He walked across the room and flipped off the overhead lights.

  I settled under the covers and watched the shadows from the window play against the ceiling. “Thanks again for the food, the shower, and a place to crash.”

  He stopped but didn’t turn around. “No problem.”

  “I like your place. It’s…comfortable.”

  “I’m glad you approve.” His voice sounded amused.

  “Goodnight.” And as I said the words, I swear I heard my brother’s voice whisper in my ears, “And don’t let the bed bugs bite.” But it had to be my imagination. Lack of sleep was starting to affect my ability to function. A good night’s sleep and I’d be stronger tomorrow and maybe ready to take on whatever challenges came my way.

  Chapter Two

  The Dude is a Black Wizard

  It was the scream that woke me. I sat straight up and realized it wasn’t coming from me. Another high pitched scream rang out, not one this time, but two, coming from the direction of the windows. Almost immediately following the screams, a loud crack of thunder sounded.

  “Son of a…!” A voice rang out in the dark, and I could hear feet hit hard against the floor. A shadow flashed across the room. It was Luke. He was out of bed moving toward the windows.