by Jaye Wells
“I just need to get a couple of things the nurses suggested for the wound care,” I said. “Just be a minute.”
She simply nodded and turned up the Tom Jones cassette tape. Before I exited, I made sure no one I knew was suddenly going to spring out of nowhere and see me exiting the hoopty car. Or at least that’s what I told myself. Actually, I was more worried about anyone seeing what I’d really come to buy.
The bell over the door dinged cheerfully. Unlike the apothecary under LM and Mary’s place, this was a more upscale suburban outfit. It catered mostly to Mundane clientele who had extra scratch to spend on expensive wrinkle potions and youth serums.
As I walked through the aisles, looking for my prize, I threw some arnica cream in my basket to help with the bruises all over my body. According to Baba, I looked like I’d been beaten like a redheaded stepchild, which wasn’t too far from the truth.
Passing a display of ice packs, I threw in a couple of those, too. As well as some Epsom salts scented with lavender. On impulse, I also grabbed a myrrh-and-sweet-almond-oil mix to rub into my scrapes and cuts to promote healing and prevent scars.
Satisfied I had enough purchases to use for cover, I went to the back corner of the store, where a small toy section was set up to entice kids. It took me a couple of minutes to find what I wanted, but when I did, I stared at the box for a full minute, debating with myself.
I hadn’t seen Morales in the hospital. According to the call I’d received from Gardner that morning, he was to be released the next day. Mez was scheduled to pick him up and get him home. It would have been an easy thing to sweep by his room on my way out, but I didn’t. In the hours that passed after our rescue, and with the distance between us in the hospital, I worried about how things would play out moving forward. Would he use my secrets against me? I didn’t want to believe he would, but promises made under stress in the dark don’t always come to fruition in the harsh light of day.
Shaking off the sense of dread, I decided not to worry about what would come. I couldn’t control what Morales did with all the dirt he had on me. I looked at the box again. But I could make things right with Danny. I grabbed the box and marched toward the counter.
Since Baba’s arthritis had been acting up, she didn’t offer to walk me to the door. “Sorry, doll. Until I can afford more Maslin’s, I’m not feeling too spry.”
“I thought you already bought more?” I frowned.
She looked away. “I shared it with Pen.”
I sucked in a breath that didn’t do much to alleviate the sudden heaviness in my chest. Looking down at my hands, I asked, “How is she?”
Baba made a wishy-washy movement with her head. “She’s going back to work tomorrow. Her wounds are healing, but she’s… subdued.”
Instead of commenting, I made myself busy finding my wallet. “How much for the Maslin’s?”
She made an argumentative sound. “I can’t ask you for that.”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering. You do so much for us, let me help you for a change.”
The old woman sucked her teeth for a moment. “A small bottle is eighty.”
My eyes popped wide. “For a small bottle?”
She shrugged apologetically. “It’s clean magic.”
I pressed my lips together and pulled out my checkbook instead. I scribbled a quick check out to her for an even hundred. I figured the MEA owed me some hazard pay, so why not?
Baba took the check and quickly shoved it into her housecoat. “Thanks, Kate.” She wouldn’t quite meet my gaze.
“You’ll tell me if you need anything else, right?”
“Oh sure,” she said, nodding unconvincingly. “Wouldn’t need this, but my Social Security check isn’t due for another week.”
I patted her hand. “It’s no problem. Thanks for the ride.”
Before I shut the car door, she called out. I leaned back inside. Baba’s face was grave. “She won’t make the first move.”
I tipped my chin abruptly and slammed the car door shut before she could elaborate. I’d call Pen eventually and set things right, but for now I needed to put one foot in front of the other.
By the time I limped inside with my apothecary bags, I was exhausted. Danny was sitting at the kitchen table. A book was open in front of him, and he had a pencil jutting from his mouth like a cigarette. He looked up when I stepped in the door with a bag in my left hand, but his eyes immediately returned to his work.
“Hey, kid,” I said. Baba and I had agreed he shouldn’t come to the hospital, but she promised she’d filled him in on the bare basics so he wouldn’t worry.
He made a noncommittal noise. His eyes narrowed on my bandages and bruises. “You okay?”
Judging from his tone, he was worried but didn’t like it. We still hadn’t had a real conversation since our argument.
“Yep. Just little sore.” I placed the bags on the table. “I’ll be good as new in a couple of days.”
He nodded and looked down at his homework again. His movements were tense, as if he was bracing himself for another argument.
“What ya working on?”
“Math.” He didn’t look up.
I placed my hands on the back of the chair in front of me and leaned into it. “Let me ask you something.”
He sighed and looked up. “What?”
“Now that you’re in DUDE are you totally antimagic?”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, Kate,” he snapped. “DUDE is about spreading awareness of dirty magic. Clean magic is fine.”
“Relax, I’m not trying to start an argument here. I’m just curious.” I pulled the seat out and joined him at the table. I took my time getting settled, allowing my thoughts to solidify.
“You know, I never learned how to cook clean magic.” I fidgeted with a pencil. “Uncle Abe always said clean magic was too expensive and time consuming to learn.” I looked up. “He didn’t explain that it’s also generally safer and more stable. That sometimes it can help people.”
Danny’s posture opened a little, and I knew I had him. “That’s sad, Katie.”
“I agree,” I said. “But when you asked me to teach you magic, I thought you wanted to learn the kind of magic I knew. The dirty kind.”
His voice rose. “I tried to tell you that’s not—”
I held up a hand. “I know, Danny. I get that now. But the thing is, I couldn’t have taught you clean magic.”
He nodded impatiently. “I know, I know. You hate magic in all its forms.” He mimicked my voice in a not-so-flattering tone.
“That’s not what I meant.” I tilted my head and looked him in the eye. “Because I don’t know how to cook clean.”
His eyes lit up like he finally got it. “Oh. I never thought—”
I patted his arm. “Don’t worry about.” I reached down to the bag on my lap and placed it on the table in front of him.
“What’s this?” He looked at it with a wary smile.
“Open it.” Suddenly nervous, I chewed on my bottom lip.
The brown paper crinkled open. He gazed down into the bag with a frown. He reached in slowly, almost as if he expected it to be a trick. But then he lifted the box and stared down at it for a long time.
The picture on the cover depicted a kid in a wizard outfit, complete with pointy hat and magic wand. The Little Wizard Cooking Kit was most Adepts’ introduction to basic magic.
“I’m sorry it’s for kids, but it’s all they—”
He looked up, blinking rapidly. “Are you serious?”
I licked my lips and nodded. “I know I promised I’d teach you, but I figured maybe we’d learn together instead.”
He simply stared at me like he’d never met me before.
“When I was a kid,” I said to fill the silence, “I watched the commercials for that kit with envy roiling in my gut like a green snake. Every year I asked Mom for it for Christmas, and every year I got a stupid doll in a pink dress.”
A sad sm
ile spread across my brother’s not-quite-a-man face. “Why didn’t you buy it when you were older?”
I shook my head, my eyes glued to the image of the happy Adept children dancing across the box. “By the time I was old enough to buy one for myself, I was so jaded about magic. I thought dirty potions were superior because they required a craftier mind.” I laughed bitterly. “Anyway… what do you think?”
“I think it’s pretty cool.” He smiled at me with a smile I’d used on him more times than I could count. It wasn’t patronizing exactly, but maybe… sympathetic and encouraging. Either way, I’d take it.
“Obviously we’ll zoom through the stuff in here pretty quick. That’s why I was thinking about talking to Mez about giving us some lessons.”
“Seriously?” His mouth dropped open. “Mez?”
“Do you think you’d like that?”
“Are you kidding? He’s a total magical badass.”
I smiled. “Yeah, he is.”
He quieted for a moment and then looked me in the eyes. “You’re pretty badass, too, Kate.”
I smiled. “Ditto, kid.”
I toyed with the box on the table for a moment. I was screwing up my courage, but Danny didn’t seem to notice because he was too busy looking at his present. Clearing my throat, I said, “There’s something else.”
He looked up. The smile on his face froze. “Uh-oh.”
I sighed and leaned forward. “You know how I was at the old brewery the night Volos came up with the antipotion and Bane tried to kill both of us?”
A shadow passed behind his eyes. I didn’t want to reopen these old wounds, but sometimes you had to rebreak an injury for it to heal correctly. “The truth is, Danny, I helped John cook the antipotion.”
He fell back in his seat. “What?”
I chewed on my bottom lip. “John did most of the work. When I went to meet him it was almost there, but he was missing an important ingredient. I helped him by reading Gray Wolf to understand the hidden ingredients in the potion. What I saw revealed the missing ingredient.”
Danny’s mouth fell open, but I wasn’t done.
“The thing is, before John could finish it, Bane busted in and shot Volos full of Gray Wolf. He was… incapacitated,” I said in the understatement of the year. The real truth was that the potion had turned John into a slavering beast that tried to kill me. “So I had to complete the antipotion on my own to save him—and you.”
“Wait,” Danny said, his eyes wide, “you cooked?”
I nodded.
“But, I don’t understand. Why did you lie about it?” His voice rose. “Why did you let me believe it was John who saved me?”
“It’s complicated,” I began. He made a disgusted sound, as if he expected me to brush him off. “Let me finish.”
He relaxed a fraction, nodding.
“I’d spent weeks telling you I didn’t want you to cook. And I’ve spent years preaching the dangers of magic. I was worried that if I admitted I’d worked with magic, you’d think I was a hypocrite.”
“You’re an idiot.”
I pulled back. “What?”
“Jeez, Katie. You’re a freakin’ hero!”
I bit my lip, ready to deny it. But he wasn’t done.
“I was angry because I thought you’d done nothing to try to save me thanks to your high and mighty principles. I thought—I thought you cared more about proving you could resist your desire to do magic than you cared about saving me.”
“Now you’re the idiot,” I said. “You’re the most important person in my life, kid. Can’t you see that? I love you and stuff.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Ah, man. Don’t get all mushy on me.”
I laughed. “Smart-ass.”
My little brother looked at me with bright eyes. “I love you, too, Katie.”
We both sat there for a long moment with goofy grins on our face. Finally, I said, “All right. What do ya say we bust out some ice cream and learn about clean magic?”
“Shit yeah!”
I was so happy I didn’t even make him pay back the curse jar.
Chapter Thirty-One
November 4
Waning Gibbous
For some reason I expected the basement to look different. I’d been going to Arcane Anonymous meetings there for a decade, but in the nine weeks since my last visit I’d changed so much I guess I just assumed everything else had too.
But the air still smelled like old linoleum and stale coffee. The blue plastic chairs still sat in the same irregular circle. The windows set high in the walls were still barred shut. And at the front of the room, Jesus still wore his crown of thorns and watched us from his cross.
I was late on purpose, arriving at the tail end of the meeting. Rufus was already well into his closing statements. As I walked in, heads turned, whispers were shared, and eyes took in my bandages and bruises and downcast eyes.
“Well, well, well,” Rufus said in an amused tone. “The prodigal daughter returns.”
I glanced up and was surprised to see him smiling. “Hey, everyone.” I waved my left hand. The bandage made it look like a white flag.
My gaze slipped toward the woman huddled on the far side of the circle. I hadn’t seen Pen in a couple of weeks. Not since that night she’d used the pain potion and we’d had that wicked fight. I knew from Baba that she was back at work, but beyond that my best friend had become a stranger.
High off my reconciliation with Danny, I’d tried calling her every day since I got out of the hospital. After having four voice mails ignored, I’d decided the best way to end the ice age was to go to her. And I knew that Pen would never miss an AA meeting, especially after she’d had a recent relapse.
“I know it’s out of order, but can I talk for a minute?” I knew if I sat down and waited for the talking period, I’d lose my nerve.
Rufus crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. “You come here to preach or confess, sister?” His comment told me he’d been talking to Pen.
I swallowed hard. “Confess,” I whispered.
He nodded. “Proceed.”
I sucked in a deep breath and released it before speaking. “I haven’t been to group in a couple months. I told you the reason was because I was too busy, but I was lying.” I licked my lips. “I’ve been lying about a lot of things lately.”
Pen’s gaze jerked up.
“When Danny was in his coma, I willfully used magic and then covered it up. I lied to my family, my co-workers, and my friends.” The backs of my eyes started stinging, but I was beyond fighting it. If there was one lesson I’d learned from Dionysus, it was that sometimes surrender is good for the soul. “I lied to all of you, and I’m sorry.”
The room remained silent. I crossed my arms and continued. “I never should have accepted the anniversary amulet. I don’t really have an excuse for taking it except I was ashamed.” I cleared my throat. “I’d return it tonight, but it’s at the bottom of Lake Erie at the moment.”
Rufus’s expression gave as much away as a sphinx. “Kate—”
“That all you got to confess?” Pen’s voice cut through the room like a blade.
I turned to look at her. Her expression was diamond-hard. My stomach dropped. “I also used protective amulets in the line of duty, got hexed by a sex magic potion—against my will, but still—and used dirty magic to summon a monster.” I took a step toward her. “But you know what? I’d do it all again.”
Pen crossed her arms and stayed silent.
“I know you don’t like hearing this,” I said to Pen. “But I also need you to understand that being a cop helps me keep my demons at bay. If using magic can make me more successful as a cop, then all the better. I’m sick and tired of feeling afraid and ashamed of being an Adept.” I blew out a shaky breath on the tail of that admission. “So, while I’m sorry for lying to you, I cannot and will not regret using magic to save lives.”
I still wasn’t quite sure how to balance all that with the demands
of the job, especially since every case I’d had on the task force thus far had almost gotten me killed. But I also knew I wasn’t willing to walk away from the work. I just had to figure out how to have both the job and the people I loved in my life.
“You know I don’t go in much for religion,” Jacob said in a soft tone that contrasted with his imposing appearance. He raised a tattooed arm to point at Jesus on his cross. “But when I was in prison, all I had was a Bible to keep me company.” He served five years in Crowley for stalking a woman after he’d taken a dirty love potion. “But there’s some good stuff in there. Like in John, when J. C. says, ‘Let he who is without sin cast the first stone’?” He shook his head. “That’s some deep shit, man.”
“What’s your point?” Pen snapped.
I frowned at her uncharacteristic outburst. That’s when I realized Pen hadn’t admitted her own sins to the group. They loomed like shadows in her eyes.
“Point is,” Jacob said, “way I see it we’re all sinners here. We’ve all lied and cheated and stole and worse. But we keep coming back here every week.”
Rufus leaned forward. “Why do you think that is, Jacob?”
The large man shrugged. “Because every day is a new chance at redemption.”
Those words washed over me like a balm. Back when I was seventeen, I’d started over. Got myself on a new road. It’s just, I’d taken a detour for a little while. Allowed myself to be lured into believing magic was to blame for my problems when it was my poor choices that caused the pain in my life. Choices like trusting John Volos and giving Uncle Abe power over my self-worth. Choices like lying to the people I loved. Like lying to myself.
But this main road—the one I’d set out on ten years earlier—was populated by a lot of other imperfect-but-trying souls. Like Rufus and Jacob, Baba and Morales—and Pen.
“I’m so sorry, Pen. I was so wrapped up in fighting my demons, I couldn’t help you with yours.”
“God, stop it,” she snapped. “Just stop.” She heaved in a breath, as if preparing to yell, but when she let it out her shoulders lowered. “Like you’re some martyr. Jesus, Katie, you know damned well you did all that lying to protect your job on the task force.”