by Tara Brown
I leave the car and walk toward Warwick until I can smell the ocean. I think I know where the house is. I don’t think they'll let me stay, but I am hoping to at least get some answers.
I know I'm close when I smell something I've smelled before. It makes my heart race and my stomach churn. I can't fight the feelings. My body turns away from the sidewalk and pulls me to the scent that’s floating on the wind. I'm like Toucan Sam. I follow it to a garage with the door open. I walk in. I am on autopilot. A man is bent over the hood of a car, whistling.
He sees me and at first he scowls. He's about to be rude to me. I can see it in his dark-brown eyes. Instead, he smiles, like he's lost. He's about fifty and covered in freckles and grease. His dark-brown hair is matted to his head on one side from the gear dope. He walks toward me like I am the almighty savior. My brain is panicking, but my body has taken over. It has a need.
My hands reach for him. My lips brush against his, and I can smell grease and spaghetti. He kisses me passionately. I pull back and hover over his face. I inhale him. The spaghetti is gone, replaced with lust and the sweetness of his soul in my mouth. Strange, almost forbidden tingles trickle down low in my belly as I drag the last of him away. His body crumples onto the cold concrete. I twitch and step away. I lean against the tool-covered wall of his shop. As I'm twitching and fighting my knees buckling, an older lady comes into the garage through another door on the other side of the car. She is holding a grocery bag. She sees me and frowns. She can't see his dead body. It's behind the car. “Who are you?”
I stutter, “H-h-h-he needed help.”
She looks confused. “Son, you better get out of here. He's not going to be happy if he sees you snooping around in this garage. He gets mean when he finds people doing things he doesn’t want them to do.”
I nod and turn away.
“Just a sec, kid. Come to the front door.” She leaves the bag on the floor and walks back into the house.
My legs gain their strength as the pleasure and sensations die down. I walk to the front of the house. She opens the door and passes me a sandwich.
“Try to find somewhere warm. You poor thing.”
The sandwich feels like a warm beating heart in my fingers. I fight back the tears. I am a sick monster.
I turn and walk and lose the battle. Tears flood my eyes and soak my cheeks. I stumble out into the night, gripping the sandwich she made me. I don’t know how to fix the karma I now have for what I took from her.
Chapter Fourteen
I evidently don't remember the way to the witches' house. I want to call Willow and get her to come and get me, but I know the other witches won't let me stay there. Maybe Willow will leave with me. I feel just lonely and selfish enough to ask her for it. I know it'll be the end of her, but I'm scared this is the end of me.
I stumble down onto the beach behind a quiet house. I sit on the rocks and sand, digging my fingers into the beach.
The cool night air is lost on me. Feeding from him has warmed me up, everywhere except my heart.
The water laps at the dock near me. The waves drag slowly up and down the pebbled shore. The noises get to be relaxing. I dig my fingers into the sand, deep. I feel something remarkable. The sand has a pulse. At first I think it's mine, but it's too slow. The earth pulses around my fingers. The earth is alive. I close my eyes and let the pulse start to beat through my body.
I look around the bay I'm sitting in and at the houses and properties. I'm sad for many other things I haven’t even touched on. Probably because I haven’t given up on them yet—my dream to get my PhD from Yale and to be a linguist and work for the UN. Then maybe get married one day and buy a big fancy house and have some kids. I can still imagine Willow as a grandma. Feeding them carob bark and seltzers made from fruit juice.
I have been building a life and desires for things I won't ever have. Or can I? Can I have the things I want? Can I go back to the school and only eat when I truly have to? Can I live the way Willow taught me and only eat when truly necessary? Can I just say no to the sins of the world?
I rub the sand and let the pulse work its way through me.
I can do it. I can have a normal life. I can at least try.
I stand and walk to Warwick. I find a pay phone and call Mona collect.
“Oh my God—what are you doing? Where have you been?” she answers in a panic.
“Mona, I need a favor. Can you text a message to Wyatt from my cell?”
“Where are you?” she demands.
“Home. I forgot my phone.”
She is silent and then speaks in a low tone, “Rayne, Willow has been texting and calling nonstop.”
I cringe. “She isn’t at home. She's at a friend’s on the sea.”
She speaks as if she ignores me, “She said if I was to hear from you, I should give you a message.”
Butterflies fill my stomach. “What message?”
“Stay away from the campus. She said you're not safe, and no matter what you think, you need to find the light. What does that mean?”
I lean against the pay phone booth. “Not sure.” I sigh. Where the hell am I supposed to go? “I need help, and I don’t know where else to go or what to do.”
“Where are you for real?” Of course, she would know I'm lying.
“Warwick,” I admit, defeated and exhausted.
“I'll be there in a few hours. Where should I meet you?” She sounds determined.
I want to protest and be a good friend and keep her out of my problems, but I don’t. I'm a selfish asshole. “Aqua Vista Marina. I will be sitting at the end of the shortest pier.”
“It'll take me probably four or five hours. Are you okay?”
I nod as silent tears slither down my cheeks. “Yup.”
Her breath in the phone and her existence are the only things keeping me from losing my mind completely.
“See you soon.”
“Bye. Thank you so much.”
“You'd do the same for me.”
I would. I know that, but it doesn’t make the trespass I am committing on her kindness any less harsh. I am asking her to enter into something dangerous.
When the phone disconnects, I feel the sharp cold of the morning air. Dawn is coming. I walk along the beach and wait.
I waste my time at a diner. I have coffee and breakfast, and when I get bored I go to a second-hand store and buy new clothes. I get new underwear and a bandeau still in the package. The rest of the clothes stink like second-hand clothes always do, but it's better than wearing the stolen old-man clothes. I pull my long hair into a ponytail and walk down to the pier.
I'm huddled with a hot cup of cocoa when I hear the squeals.
I glance up and smile before I realize what I'm looking at.
Michelle and Mona are climbing out of a gorgeous white-silver SUV. I will bet money it's a Lexus.
Damn.
Wyatt gets out of the driver’s seat and looks furious. I drop my cocoa into the ocean. I stand and walk backward.
“Why did you call him?”
Mona sees the panic on my face and meets my eyes with her own. She shakes her head with a twitch.
Michelle struts up to me. I can't help but notice the glittery high-tops and skinny jeans.
“He wanted to come and help, Rayne.”
He smiles. It's cocky and it makes my blood boil.
“Get in the car, Rayne.” His dead eyes are colder than I've ever seen them. They don’t match the smile crossing his lips.
Mona runs to me. Michelle and Mona hug me.
Michelle pulls me back. “What the eff are you wearing? You smell homeless!”
My lip trembles and I shudder. “I am homeless.” Tears stream down my cheeks.
Their eyes fill with tears and they hug me.
“Honey, don’t cry. You're making me cry.”
“Rayne, don’t cry. We'll go get Willow, and you'll feel better.”
I pull back and sniffle. “She isn’t my mom. Not my real mom. S
he is my guardian. She doesn’t want me to live with her anymore, and jerkface over there burned my house to the ground anyway. I have nowhere to go.”
Mona looks at Wyatt and then me. “He said you needed us. He said you would say stuff like that. You're just tired, Rayne.”
Michelle looks at me. “A lot of freshmen crack the first year, sweetie. It's a lot of pressure. You've always had such a sheltered life. The stress is probably more than you can take right now.”
I stop sniffling and watch them both patronize me.
“You just need a few days of rest. You've been so down since we started school. We won't let you hurt yourself.”
“No, we love you, Rayne. Willow loves you. Everyone gets a little down now and then. It's so obvious with all the sleeping and stuff; I'm sorry we missed the cries for help.”
I push away and look at him. “You told them I was bloody well crazy? You're a jerk.”
Michelle looks back at him. “He told us about how he was trying to help you, and you kept pushing him away. His heart is broken, Rayne.”
Mona smiles softly. “He only ever wanted to help you. That’s why he tried to stop you from hooking up and tried to be there for you.”
The world feels like it is closing in on me. I walk past them both to the SUV. I walk slowly and watch his eyes. “So, you've loved me all along?”
He gives a nod and watches Michelle and Mona.
“Why did you slap the crap out of me on the grass?”
He shakes his head. “She is hallucinating. I never hit her. I wouldn’t ever hurt her.”
I look back at them. “You saw him manhandle me at the bar, and Mona, you threw a beer at him for Christ's sake.”
“I was trying to save you from another meaningless one-night stand.” His voice has a hint of humor.
I laugh. It's bitter and full of spite.
I look at Mona and Michelle and raise an eyebrow. “You want proof? Fine.” I break into a run. Wyatt is chasing me. I can hear his feet on the boardwalk. I run hard to the end of the pier and jump in. He follows me into the water this time. One of the water-angel things is there immediately. She glows and her pretty face turns to anger and pain. She screams at him and grabs him.
His eyes fill with fear as she drags him down. Her screams make my ears feel like they're bleeding. I dive under. I see her. I swim, but she is faster. He is struggling and fighting her. He does something with his hands and sends her back. She is angry and frothing up the sea. She swirls around him, choking him with the white strands of her dress. He never stops fighting her. He pulls something from his back pocket, and in the struggle he gets his arms free. His hands come up the way Willow's did with the knitting needle. He stabs into her eyes where the light shines.
She screams as she dies. I can see the lights coming. I swim to him and grab his arm. I pull but he fights. He's trying to take something. I pull him and look back. Panic fills me. He grabs my face and sucks the air from my lungs. He grins at me. He's using me as his own oxygen mask. I point. He turns and sees the line of white lights.
He mouths, “Oh hell.”
I nod. He swims fast and hard for the shore. When I look back, I can see them. They're everywhere. His feet hit the rocks before mine. He drags me from the sea.
He runs to the car. “GET IN THE CAR!”
Mona and Michelle are standing on the pier, watching in disbelief as a horde of white-garbed women climb from the sea. When the air hits them, they move in the same odd way that the one in my room moved.
Michelle screams and Mona drags her to the car the same way Wyatt is dragging me.
“You killed her,” I sputter. He pushes me into the SUV and starts it. Mona and Michelle barely make it into the car when he pulls away. He speeds through town.
He clenches his jaw. “You're an idiot.”
I look at my stunned and sobbing friends. “Yeah, well—you're an asshole. You lied to them to get them to talk me into coming with you? What the hell?”
He pounds the steering wheel. “You ran. You ran, and I didn’t know how to get you back. Goddamn. I was trying to keep you safe.”
“Prisoner. You were keeping me prisoner!”
He seethes, spitting in my face when he yells, “YOU WERE SAFE!”
“You're crazy. She isn’t crazy, you are! You're a son of a—you had us convinced we were the worst friends, that we let her get depressed and become a danger to herself!” Michelle leans forward and slaps him on the top of the head. “You asshole!”
He swats at her. “Stop. Just stop.”
Mona looks at me. “I'm sorry.”
I shiver from anger and the cold water. “No, I'm sorry. I've dragged you into something, and I'm sorry for it.”
Michelle wipes her eyes and shakes her head. “What were those?”
“Nixie,” Wyatt whispers.
The three of us mouth the word and look confused.
“Water sprites. Water witches. They have incredible power in the water. Very hard to kill. Unless you happen to have a silver dagger. Their essence is a healer for people.”
He speaks as if the woman in my room is nothing but a good source of faerie dust.
“You killed her.”
He frowns. “She was trying to kill me.”
I raise an eyebrow. “She was trying to save me.”
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, same thing I guess.”
“So water sprites are real?” Mona looks like she is about to laugh.
I nod. “You would beg for death if I told you about the things that are real. That’s how I felt anyway.”
Wyatt cranks the heat when he sees how much I'm shivering.
“So, those things looked pretty angry back there. That was some scary crap. Watching them crawl out of the water like an army made of chiffon. They seemed like they hated you.”
Wyatt nods. “Nothing new there. Everything hates me.” His eyes flicker at me. I envy them their true hate. On some level, I still really like him. It's a dirty level where my inner whore lives. I don’t like to let her have opinions or sway over what the common-sense bitch and me are doing.
He continues coldly, “They can sense the death of their sisters for miles. They can smell the death of other sisters on me.”
Through my chattering teeth, I grimace. “You’ve killed them before?”
He gives me a blank stare. “When I've needed to.”
“Were they attacking you?”
“No, I needed the essence.”
I know the answer but I just want to hear him say it. It fuels the fire I need to hate him properly. Even when I don’t think I can.
“They helped me escape you. Why would they do that? They seem to have my best interest at heart.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know. The fact they're helping you is weird. Fire witches, earth witches, and now the nixie. It's unprecedented.”
“So they're the water witches?” I ask, still shaking.
He nods.
I want to ask him a million questions, but I don’t want to traumatize Mona and Michelle.
He glances at me again. “You saved me.”
I realize I did and shrug it off.
“Thanks.”
I sneer. “It was an accident. I panicked. They looked scary swimming like that at us in a wall of lights.”
He chuckles. “That they did.”
I shudder. “It's probably going to haunt my dreams forever.”
Mona passes me my phone. I take it and see the texts and flashing lights.
She makes a face. “Willow has been sending messages nonstop. She phones and texts every half an hour.”
I look at the messages and frown. “She never wrote these.”
I glance back at Mona. She frowns. “What do you mean?”
“Someone must have her phone. She never calls me Rayne, unless she is really upset or really angry. And she never calls herself Mom.”
I look up at Wyatt. He bites his lip.
“Did you do this?”
“Who are they?”
He looks at me and laughs. “Who isn't right now? Everyone seems either willing to help you or hurt you, for whatever reason.”
I think for a second. “How do I know that they don’t have her?”
He laughs a rich full-belly laugh. “The only reason we weren’t struck dead upon entering their yard is because they were expecting us. I came unarmed and you were with me. You think for a second that they couldn’t have killed us instantly?”
I frown. “You said they couldn’t kill you.”
He looks over at me and frowns. “Her—one singular witch? She cannot kill me, but they—is another story. I can't fight them all off, and you don’t seem to have any ability at all.”
“I can eat evil with my mouth. Very special talent, in fact.”
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well thus far it's proven pathetic. You ate a guy on the grass.”
I gulp. He raises an eyebrow. “Who else?”
I look down. “A man in a garage. I'm ashamed.”
Had a cricket been in the backseat you could have picked out the notes he played.
I look back to see their ghostly white faces covered in horrified expressions. My eyes widen instantly. “I didn’t eat them like chewed and swallowed.”
They look at each other and try to smile. Michelle tucks her hair behind her ear and laughs. “Of course not.” She giggles nervously and looks at Mona.
I'm not certain of the course of action I should be taking. I close my eyes and try to remember how Willow put it in the green house.
“I'm something called a sin eater. I eat evil. Right now, there is too much evil on the earth. When I've eaten enough evil and put the earth back in balance, I am to be sacrificed, and I take the evil to Hell with my soul. I have been born three times, the same soul every time. When the balance tips and the world is smothered in darkness, it's time for me to be born again. It happened once in the beginning, when the earth was young. Once in the Dark Ages. Once now. When I'm born I live roughly twenty-one years. In that time, I live like a normal person until the last two years. In those last two years, I fill with the sickness of the earth. Black angels, angels of death, bring me the evil of the world. They put it in me. It makes me sick. Then I have to be crucified and burned on the cross and beheaded, I think.” I glance at Wyatt.