On the Verge (A Charmed Life Book 1)

by Joseph Bonis

  She did know that she was furious, though. She should have been scared, that was evident by Craig's submission, was screamed by every single word of Jacob's body language, but she didn't care. She stared back into those cold eyes with a calm determination, her back straight, lifting to every bit of her short height, looking Lord Brin right in the eyes. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she should have been too short to be able to, and that she was floating above the ground, supported on a cushion of wind and mist. This was all secondary, however, to a fierce, cold fury. This was a civilized world. There was no place for rule by fear by some tin-pot dictator in America.

  A brief look of surprise crossed Lord Brin's eyes, a look that turned the short hesitation into a longer silence. The surprise was there for only a moment, replaced quickly by appraisal, the same look he had given her earlier when she had refused to kneel. She just stared back at him, the cold fury seizing her chest and lending her a will more iron than Lord Brin's skin.

  Finally, he sighed and waved his hand lightly, as if brushing away a fly. “Jacob, I'll trust this one to you. Just take care of it.” He stepped into the shadow of a post box, and his whole body turned to darkness and then melted down into the shadow to disappear. For the third time, Tracy felt that rushing feeling like a great wind in her mind, blowing towards the spot where Lord Brin had disappeared.

  Silence reigned for half a minute. Tracy didn't know why Jacob was quiet, but she was still trying to control herself. She didn't trust herself to say anything, not with that fierceness boiling just underneath. She had never felt this way before, never felt so angry, so violent, so primally ready for action. Never before had she ever felt such a feeling of pure rage, a desire to hurt or destroy something with such intensity, and all she could think of was trying to regain control of this intense emotion. How did she deal with these feelings?

  After the silence had stretched out long enough, Jacob let out a long sigh of relief. “You,” he said quietly, “Are insane. And brave. But mostly insane.”

  Just like that, the anger was gone, vanished in the flash of an instant and replaced with pure terror. She fell to the concrete, hugging her arms to herself and finding tears leaking down her face. Without that defensive wall of anger, the realization of how close she had been to the presence of death and power came flooding in and overwhelmed her, and she started shaking like a leaf in a wind as the tears trickled over her cheeks.

  The tears encompassed more than just the immediate battle, they released her frustration over everything that had happened to her in less than twenty-four hours. How much violence had she been privy to in the past day? Was this going to be what her new life was like, now?

  It was too heavy. She felt crushed under the weight of everything that had happened, everything that was going to happen. For a minute or so, she simply cried, Jacob's hand a light touch upon her shoulder. Then the tears eased, the stress and anger and fear and all those emotions draining out of her to leave a very tired void, an emptiness deep inside.

  “Come on,” said Jacob, guiding her to her feet. “We need to get off the streets before everyone comes back.”

  As if to emphasize his point, she heard the sound of a car a few streets down. It was just the simple noise of a nearby motor, but it took the surreal, empty street and made it familiar again. Tracy stood up, still feeling hollow and drained, but ready to move on. “My things,” she murmured, quietly, pointing down the street, “We need to pick them up.”

  Her gym bag lay in the recessed doorway where she'd left it, her winter coat folded neatly over it. Jacob picked them up to carry them for her. Normally she would have wanted to carry them herself, but she felt so empty and distant from everything that she didn't care. As they walked down the sidewalk, Tracy was dimly aware of the distant noises returning to the neighborhood, and it was no small relief when a car actually drove down the street next to them, though the noise made both of them jump. She was glad to know that she wasn't the only one unnerved by the silence of the daytime city - even someone who knew what was going on and had gone through it before - like Jacob - found it unsettling.

  To her surprise, she actually got the key to the outer door right on the first try. She let herself and Jacob into the mail room, then briefly checked her mailbox. Her memory for checking mail was sporadic at best, which she was sure annoyed the mail carriers. No matter how much she kept vowing to check it every day, though, it never stayed with her. This time, it'd been three days since she'd checked it. The mass of bills, coupons, credit card offers, and other junk mail was crushed in there and she had quite an armful by the time she had cleared out the little box.

  They silently walked down the hall, up the stairs, Tracy flipping through the mail to see if she had actually gotten anything other than the normal mess of junk mail and bills. The small bit of normality helped, again, but that looming emptiness waited right behind it.

  “Hey, Tracy,” came a familiar voice. Tracy looked up in surprise to see Sing standing there in the hall before her. He was wearing tan khakis and a blue silk shirt, today, a black and silver striped tie laying almost casually on his chest.

  It felt like forever since she had seen him. Unceremoniously, she shoved the mail into Jacob's hands and rushed forward, hugging Sing tightly. His arms wrapped lightly around her shoulders, patting lightly over her back. “Hey,” he murmured, “Hey, hey. I'm sorry I missed last night, I couldn't help it, my uncle-”

  “It's all right,” she replied, just wanting him to shut up and hold her. “It's not that.” Was it only last night? Less than a day since everyone had failed to show up for dinner?

  To her relief, he followed her unspoken desires and just hugged her, sensing that something was wrong. She held him for a long minute, then started to see if she couldn't ease up and back away. She at least loosened her death grip.

  “You haven't been lost for months in another dimension, have you?” asked Sing. “Cause I swear I've seen this scene in a few books and movies of that nature.” He shifted his voice into a deeper tone. “My dear, it's like you haven't seen me in ages!” He lifted his head as his voice shifted to falsetto. “Well, that's silly, you saw me just two days ago!”

  Tracy giggled helplessly and promised, “I swear, if I ever end up transported to another dimension where time travels differently, I'll tell you.” She unlocked the door as she spoke and ushered the two men into her apartment, which was just as cold as the outside.

  “Tracy,” Sing admonished, “I know you like fresh air, but seriously…”

  “No, no,” said Tracy, having forgotten all about it until now. “I left the soup on the stove last night and woke up this morning to this horrible burnt stench. I needed to air the place out.”

  Tracy turned around to see Sing holding up a CD with a grin. She cut off her explanation and squealed, darting forward to grab it and look at it. It was an unmarked CD, held in an almost-transparent thin blue case. “Is this it?” she asked excitedly.

  He nodded. “As close as we're getting at the moment,” he replied. “Still need some players for some of the instruments, but we don't have any leads right now.”

  Jacob looked back and forth between them, a confused look on his face.

  “Oh, gosh,” Tracy realized. “I haven't introduced you two yet.”

  Tracy gestured one to the other. “Jacob,” she said, “This is my friend Sing. Sing, this is someone who helped me out of a … problem, last night: Jacob Nightfox.”

  Sing looked a bit curious at that, and asked after it. Tracy went about the motions of cleaning up the kitchen a little - and scrubbing some more at the mess in the pot - while she told what happened. As she told the story, focusing on the attack and Jacob's rescue, and avoiding the bits about magical elemental abilities, she felt separate from herself - as if she was floating back and watching someone else tell the story. Dispassionate. Her voice trembled a little, but mostly it was just cool and distant. On an intellectual level, she recognized how she was starti
ng to remove herself from the situation because she was just getting overloaded.

  She looked up at Sing as she neared the end and saw a horrified expression. “Oh, God,” he murmured, shocked, “This is our fault, isn't it?” Tracy's face screwed up in a confused manner, but before she could ask, Sing continued, “If just one of us had actually shown up last night like we said we would, you wouldn't have been-”

  “STOP,” demanded Tracy angrily, even harshly, snapping back to reality with a sudden flash of emotion. “Don't you dare finish that thought. You might as well say it was my fault for walking at night or for wearing the wrong clothes.” Sing started to object, but Tracy cut him off, her voice low and confident, quiet but drawing attention. “What happened last night was no one's fault but those punks who tried to attack me. You are not responsible for what happens in the rest of the world. You all had good reasons not to be there, it was just bad luck and jerk ass thugs.”

  Sing looked intimidated and guilty, trying to stammer an apology, Jacob looked surprised, and Tracy realized that even that reaction was a little much - she was stressed over the whole situation and had started taking it out on Sing a bit. She tried briefly to think if Sing had ever seen her like that, and didn't know if he had. She couldn't remember exactly when she had last felt this stressed. She couldn't think straight right now, but she knew she needed to change the topic.

  “Speaking of which,” she said, her tone suddenly light and sociable again, concerned, “How is your uncle, Sing? Will he be all right?”

  Sing looked confused for a moment, obviously having trouble shifting gears, but then his eyes cleared up. “Oh, right! Last night. Yeah, he's fine. It was just a simple procedure, but my aunt worked herself up into a panic, convinced he was going to die, and started compulsively dialing people and asking them to be there. Speaking of which-” He reached into his bag and pulled out an unmarked mason jar full of mottled red goo. “My sister made some raspberry preserves, and I know how much you like raspberries, so I thought …”

  Tracy's face lit up as she took the preserves. “Oh, I love your sister's jams!” she chirped happily, feeling some of that stress lift as she ignored the last day in favor of trivialities. “I'll make us some toast!”

  She opened the fridge to get out some cheese and drinks to go with the toast and preserves, and brightened as she saw the large plate of mini-sandwiches with plastic wrap over it. She pulled it out and set it on the counter. “And you guys can help me finish these off!”

  “You know, I could just leave,” Jacob murmured, looking a little uncertain of himself. Tracy supposed he had expected to deal with her solely on a 'teacher of the unknown' basis, and was unsettled to find himself in a more domestic setting.

  “No, we still have to go out and take care of that paperwork stuff, remember?” she reminded him. “Just sit down, we'll have some toast, then we'll go.”

  “Paperwork?” asked Sing, settling down at her table and propping his bag up next to his chair. “What sort of paperwork?”

  Tracy shrugged and pulled out some of the fresh new seven-grain bread she had bought the other day while her mind raced to try to figure out a realistic answer to why she'd be doing anything with paperwork with someone she'd just met. “Oh, he found out about my martial arts after I twisted his arm - didn't get around to that part of it before we got distracted - and he's sort of interested in learning some. I figured I'd take him around as a thank you.”

  Tracy slipped the bread into her toaster oven and closed the door, then went to the cupboard and searched through her mass of mismatched flatware to pull out some of the plates marked with raspberries, finding them appropriate. Sing took a second knife and started cutting up cheese while she cut up some apples. She directed Jacob to take the plates and some knives. While she and Sing continued prepping food, she led Jacob to get out butter, glasses, and lemonade.

  After a couple apples and a little cheese, she smelled the moment Jacob cracked open the raspberry preserves – so much fresher and more tangy than the normal labels. The scent was so strong, so delicious, that she just wanted to dip her fingers into the jelly and scoop it up to her mouth, indulging herself immediately.

  Instead she waited, watching the toaster oven carefully as the already dark bread toasted even darker, fighting her impatience to wait for the toast to finally be done. When it was, she brought it into the living room, and the three of them sat round the table speaking of milder things. At first it was just Tracy and Sing, but eventually Jacob loosened up enough that he could add his own anecdotes, his own smile, to the group.

  “You know,” Jacob teased, popping a slice of cheese into into his mouth and talking around it, “this is the most complicated slice of toast I've ever had.”

  Sing grinned. “That's our Tracy,” he said proudly, putting his arm around her shoulders for a quick hug.

  As much as she enjoyed this small talk, and wished it could go on all afternoon, Jacob broke her out of the moment of peace as he reminded her, “Tracy, I hate to be a buzz kill, but if we're going to make it on time, we have to leave now. I really don't want to be late.”

  Sing looked curious again, but Tracy just gave him a regretful smile and a shrug. “Sorry, Sing… hey, could you come back at dinnertime? We could go get some food, just you and me.”

  Sing considered for a bit, then nodded. “Sure, I can do dinner.”

  “Great!” chirped Tracy, and somewhere in the back of her mind she made a sudden decision. “It's a date!” she said, lightly. Sing glanced up at her, a curious expression in his eyes, no doubt thinking of earlier in the week when their friends had been playing matchmaker. She nodded just a little bit, and his eyes widened and then grew thoughtful, surprise evident on his face. She smiled and leaned over near him, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. “See you, then,” she murmured.

  She felt the nudge against her cheek as he mirrored her movement, and his arms slipped about her waist as he drew her closer for a brief and gentle hug. “I'm looking forward to it,” he whispered back, soft eagerness in his voice.

  Tracy saw Sing to the door and closed it softly behind him, then closed her eyes and hugged herself as she luxuriated in a silent moment of warm, fuzzy happiness. A flash of impressions ran through her mind - memories of the two of them sharing fun moments, future possibilities for dates, possible ways of phrasing the news for Jill, and the look on Jill's face when she found out, all fluttered in her mind like a freshly disturbed rabble of butterflies. It was at once exciting and a little scary, what had just passed between them.

  “So did you say friend, or boyfriend?” asked Jacob, behind her.

  Tracy sighed and pulled herself back from that flutter of daydream to put herself back into reality once more - as real as the world could feel after the past day, at any rate.

  “No,” she said, automatically, “Just a friend.” She paused, rethinking that response. “At least … not a boyfriend yet.”

  Jacob's eyes flickered with amusement. “Ah,” he said, guessing more than she said. “But your friends all think you are already?”

  Tracy felt her cheeks flush warmly, and Jacob was tactful enough to turn away, almost hiding the wry grin that was spreading across his face.

  “So,” Tracy asked quickly, “where is this place we have to go?”

  “There's a few different places,” replied Jacob, “But I was going to take you to the Northwest one. It's a little further, but I think it's much better. It should - ” He stopped, then spat out, “Shit … that won't work.”

  Tracy made a curious noise. “Oh?” she asked, “What's the matter?”

  Jacob shook his head. “I can get there,” he replied, “But you can't. There's no bus service out there. I'd have to go get my bike … can you stay on a bike if I'm driving?”

  Tracy laughed softly. “I have a truck, I just prefer the bus. Easier to find parking, and it isn't as expensive.”

  He looked at her in surprise. “A truck? Really? What kind of truck?”
>
  Twenty minutes later, he was grinning at her from the passenger seat as she accelerated onto the freeway. “I never would have expected you to have a truck like this,” he said, his voice excited. “Listen to that engine! You've got a lot of power behind it, don't you?”

  “It's mostly standard,” she said, “Modded with a reduction drive, though. You know engines?”

  He shrugged. “A little. I know bike engines, which isn't really the same. You do the work on it yourself?”

  Tracy shook her head, pausing in her reply as she maneuvered out from behind a slower car into the next lane just before a faster car could speed up and cut her off. As she rode the gas pedal hard, the engine responded quickly, though not as quickly as she would have liked - it was going to need some TLC soon. “Nope. My friend Diego's the mastermind behind my baby here.” She stroked over the dashboard lovingly. “But I help a little.” Such help was no more than handing over tools or changing the oil, but it made her feel better to have some small hand in it.

  They talked engines a little longer, though Jacob obviously knew more about them than Tracy did, and Jacob promised to show her his bike sometime as she maneuvered around cars, going a little faster than the speed limit allowed. “How far away is this place?” she finally asked as they started to run out of suburbs, the freeway growing more empty at every exit.

  “Just a few more minutes,” he assured her, growing a bit more serious. “Look, I need to explain a couple things quick.”

  Tracy nodded, giving a slight sigh. “Go ahead,” she said, setting herself to listen.

  “I've only been part of this whole scene for a little over a year,” Jacob said, his voice growing a little distant, “so I don't have the long view of things. We learn the history, though. A few years ago, there was no sign-up, no formal rules of engagement. Basically, we hunted each other, or tried to stay low. There was a sort of feudal or gang war going on. You picked a side, and if you didn't want to fight, you gave tribute, and they protected you. Sometimes they made you fight, anyway. Or demanded services. Or anything, really. The lords of the city were powerful, and could do what they want. Most other places are still like that, in fact.”