“This is where the wolf went in the water,” I said, finding fresh claw scratches on the railing.
Winter examined the marks, nodding. “And you just went after him?”
If I didn’t know better, I would say he was impressed.
“Had to scare away the masked dude first,” I said.
“Right,” he said, bending over the railing to sniff noisily.
“Could it have been one of those morph shifters?”
“No, it would have turned human when you mortally injured it. This is an unclassified creature. Species unknown.” He bent his face. “The scent it left behind is quite pungent, but unfamiliar.”
“More than pungent, it’s straight up nasty,” I corrected him. “Maybe it was one of those scent phantom things.”
“Scent phantoms do not have a scent, they follow scents.”
“Okay, but how about the mutant wolf look… with the burned patches on the fur… any relatable creatures in your Immortal field guide?”
“You’re being funny, but there actually is such a guide. There is nothing in there at all like this strange hunter.”
I followed him to the beach where he examined vague disruptions in the sand which might have once been footprints. He kneeled and scooped up a handful of sand.
He watched as it slipped through his fingers, then quickly picked up more sand and did the whole trick over again.
I crouched down next to him and did the same—the simple ritual looked so calming I had to try. “I did things last night I didn’t know I could do.”
“Here, at the seaside, with the metamorphic Moon coming, you are formidable.”
“But I felt like I was channeling unspeakable sources.”
“Dark magic, you mean,” he said as if he expected my questions.
“Yeah, and that’s not a pool I want to be swimming in.”
“Better to swim,” he said, abstractly, “than to drown.” He tired of our conversation and moved to another spot to test more sand.
“Don’t I have any choice in all this?”
“Your powers are growing, Luna Mae. The energy is already shifting due to the cycle to come,” he said. “Your magic will swell in ripples at first and then waves. And when your powers crest, we must be ready.”
Out of nowhere, Lucia entered my thoughts. I knew I should not keep secrets from Winter, but I didn’t want her or Lily on anyone’s radar. They had no part in this war and I meant to keep it that way.
“I want out,” I said. “I know that I can’t get out, but I just want out.”
“You and me both, Luna Mae,” he said, “but the way out is perilous.”
“Don’t you love this stuff?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“No, I do not,” he said. “And I am going to assume you knew that.”
CHAPTER 16
____________________________________
As soon as Big Rob took over the evening shift, I sat down with Faion at one of the four tables in the empty patio outside the coffee shop. A thick line of carefully trimmed bushes hid us from the busy street, but that manicured divide worked both ways. Anything could be hiding on the other side.
Every muscle in Faion’s face was taut—his attention seemed focused somewhere inside him.
My paranoia reared its nasty little head again.
“What’s up, Faion?”
“Let’s leave tomorrow,” he said. “Let’s go back to Oregon.”
I would love nothing more. “We’ve been through this. I can’t leave.”
“I’m talking a day or two. We’ll talk to our grandmothers. They have insight and perspective that we don’t.”
“I’m a marked witch, Faion. I’m under constant Immortal surveillance. If I leave town now, they’ll think I’m running.”
Faion balled his fingers into fists. “I had another premonition, Sophie.”
Big Rob strutted through the door. “On the house,” he said, setting two large vanilla lattes on the table.
“Thanks, Rob,” I said, wanting to hasten his departure.
Rob crouched down next to Faion. He was a big guy, obviously, but his face possessed the innocent wonderment of a ten-year-old. There wasn’t a single mean bone in his body.
“Sophie’s a good egg,” Rob said, tilting his head toward me.
“Rob?” I said, fearing where this was going.
“She’s not all chatty, driving you crazy all day with details about microblading, celebrity couples and keto dieting.”
Faion raised an eyebrow. “She’s a good egg, huh? Sophie, I think this dude likes you. Good egg is Gucci level Hetero male affection.”
Big Rob cracked a smile. “I’m just saying, don’t get her in any trouble, she’s like my little sister.”
Enough testosterone already.
“Rob, what’s this about?” I said. “We’re just having coffee.”
He shrugged. “Okay, this dude, he’s been acting like a stalker. Hangs outside, checks you out through the windows. And I’m not talking just once.”
Oh boy.
“Thanks for looking out, but it’s not like that,” I assured Rob.
“Yeah, she too skinny,” Faion said.
I rolled my eyes at Faion. “Rob, I can handle my own friends. We’re good. You better check on the counter.”
Big Rob shrugged, unconvinced, and went back inside.
“He calls me a stalker?” Faion said. “That boy is all about your business, Sophie, for real. He’s all about your biznass.”
“He’s not, it’s just boring working here. And you, buddy, have obviously got to stop hovering.”
“Somebody’s got to,” he said.
“Apparently, I already have Rob.”
“Yeah, you do.”
“Shut,” I said. “We’re co-workers. I know his girlfriend.”
“He must be tired of that old stuff,” Faion said.
“Don’t be vulgar.”
“I’m done,” he said. “Let his basic ass worry about you. He’ll just pour hot coffee all over them devil dogs and Immortal assholes. No worries.”
“I thought you said you were done?” I said, glaring. “Can we get back to your premonition? Please!”
Something changed in Faion’s eyes. “It was the worst. It shook me, to be honest. Deep purple sky, dead bodies everywhere. People gasping their last breaths, guts spilling, and heads rolling down the street in slow motion.”
I felt a cold shiver. “People we know?”
He lowered his gaze. “People we know, people we don’t know. The old, the young and even… us.”
My blood froze. Diviners had very precise visions, but their significance, at times, was up for interpretation. “You saw us dead?”
Faion held his breath. “We were beheaded,” he said as he released it, “so, technically, I just saw our heads, just rolling and rolling.”
Oh shit. There’s no good interpretation of that.
“Your premonitions are not always literal, right?”
“That’s the thing, usually, yeah, but it’s not like I have experience with shit this heavy, apocalyptic savagery and what not. I need my Gran’s guidance. This end of days business is most definitely not my jam.”
“We’re in this, okay? All options are bad. Pulling our grandmothers into this would only complicate an already fucked-up situation.”
Faion was spiraling downward. I knew the feeling. I had two choices. I could try to distance myself to protect him a little while longer or I could share all I had learned and hope he could somehow pull it together.
In the end, I needed his help and if I were him, I’d want to know the world could be coming to an end while I still had time to do something.
I told him everything Winter had told me. I told him about Chaos and the morphs, as well as what had occurred at Ocean Beach Pier. I told him I had killed the beast and that confession shamed me to my core.
He had no reaction to any of it. I had never seen anyone so completely stunned. He could ha
ve been one of those wax figures at Madame Tussauds.
“Faion, did you hear what I said?”
“There is a hell,” he said. “We’re living in it.”
He stirred his latte with a plastic spoon. He seemed almost bipolar in that everything about his personality had reversed completely. I became mesmerized by his methodic stirring motion until I glimpsed a fresh bruise around his wrist.
“Your wrist,” I said. “Did you get into a fight?”
“I wouldn’t call it that…” Faion looked off into the distance. “Your boy Rob is not alone in thinking I’m odd.”
“Did someone hurt you?” I said.
“Fuck those dudes,’” Faion said. “I foretold their futures before things got ugly. I almost feel sorry for them. Their next twenty years will not be kind.”
“Don’t feel sorry for those assholes,” I said. “I hope they all—”
“Luna, don’t say it. We should have the empathy they lack.”
I sighed. “Now you sound like my Gram.”
“Exactly,” he said. “I learned that from mine.”
“Our Grans are awesome,” I agreed, “but we can’t go to them this time.”
“I know,” he said, but his attention had moved elsewhere. His eyes became stone cold as his gaze fixed on something over my shoulder.
My head spun. I heard his voice before he stepped into view.
Winter glided to our table. “Luna Mae, the girl who will not learn.”
He wore a black t-shirt and blue jeans. His hair was spiked up and darker, a result of the wet look provided by a hefty dose of styling gel.
“How long were you spying?” I said.
“Long enough.”
His hands were in his pockets, his head leaning toward me. Then he rolled his neck so that his focus shifted to Faion.
“Mr. Trice, I just can’t get you out of my head,” Winter said.
“Have we met?” Faion said, weakly.
“Let me give you this warning,” Winter said. “My mind is not a safe place for you to be. And what is seen through these eyes would destroy you.”
Holy shit, he knew?
Faion cleared his throat and swallowed hard.
Winter slid the latte out of Faion’s hand and poured it into a flowerpot. “Enter me again and the price will be absolute,” he said, lowering his brow.
“Never,” Faion managed to say, barely.
I sprang to my feet. “Listen, you bully, leave him alone. He was trying to help. If you got a problem, take it up with me.” I grabbed Winter by the chin. “Leave my friends alone!”
He wiped my hand away as he reached out to Faion, but right before gripping him by his skinny neck, he dropped his hand. “Keep your diviner on a shorter leash or I’ll have his head.”
Faion’s face betrayed that we were having the same thought—his premonition of our heads rolling in the streets.
“Were you not held as a baby?” I hissed at Winter. “Control yourself.”
“No, it’s cool,” Faion said, standing up. “Big dude’s right to be salty. This was all on me. Hundo P. I’m the bad guy.” Faion grabbed his backpack, nodded compulsively and vanished into the dark street behind the bushes.
A tiny spark of blue energy sizzled on my left palm. I took a deep breath to extinguish the flame before it turned into something I couldn’t contain.
Winter took Faion’s seat, somehow satisfied.
I stood by the table, seething inside. “Do you always have to be a dick?” I said. “I mean, is that absolutely necessary? God.”
He tapped his fingers on the tabletop. “Manners are a deception.”
“Oh… my god,” I said and reluctantly took my seat.
I needed a moment to compose myself. I didn’t want to detail the whole stupid plan Faion and I had put in motion, especially the embarrassing exploding a water cooler over his head to get him out of his shirt scenario.
I was in no mood to be humiliated.
“When did you figure it out?” I finally said.
“Try the moment you decided to strip me of my shirt.”
Humiliation commence. At least it explained why he decided to open up about the rebellion the next morning.
“The thing I don’t understand,” I said, “is that if you knew, why did you let it happen?”
He chuckled. “It’s astonishing how little you understand. I’ve been waiting for you to call me by my name. Call it a test of your self-control. Twice you almost failed yourself.”
“And yet you say my name willy-nilly,” I reminded him.
“I like your name,” he said. “What I don’t like is you not owning your story or your truth. Secrets among allies become harbingers of doom.”
I felt blood rushing to my ears. “You’re the harbinger of doom,” I said. “Don’t you have anything better to do than stalk me?”
“I’m here to escort you home.”
I laughed. “No, you’re not.”
He looked at me as if I was unwell. And I really wasn’t.
“You are no longer safe here,” he said.
“I can take care of myself.”
“All incidents indicate that the demons come out after dark. I will be your escort on nights you work late. You will find me here at the opportune hour.”
“Hard pass.”
“I thought you might say that,” he said, strangely pleased. “Which is why there’s a plan B.”
His face told me that plan B was going to be worse.
“You suck, let’s hear it.”
He shrugged. “Either I chaperone your nocturnal commute or I must report to the Council that hostiles are pursuing you. Your life has great value to the Magistrates of Eternal Beings… for the moment. I’m sure they can arrange for you a cozy, but heavily guarded little den at the Court until the metamorphic night in question.”
I didn’t even roll my eyes. Why bother?
He stood up, offering me his elbow. I stuck my tongue out and rose with a deep sigh. I gently folded my arm around his and a tender jolt shot up my arm.
His manners were so dusty, they were from hundreds of years ago.
Being in direct contact with an Immortal apparently created energy flow. The buzz in my arm raced around my shoulder and tickled my breastbone.
When we reached his dingy Civic, he held the passenger door open. With a grunt, I broke free from his warmth and sat down in the car.
I slammed the door shut, the only way I could express myself.
CHAPTER 17
____________________________________
There was a tall shadow dancing on my door. I hadn’t noticed until I took out my keys and Winter drove away. I stopped on my first step, noticing the shadow moving. I readied to strike swiftly if necessary.
The shadow turned out to be Emmet-shaped. I took the final step up and saw him to the right, swaying to a beat only he could hear.
Emmet was grooving with his back to me. I reached out to tap his shoulder. He spun around, startled.
“Sophie,” he said, taking his earbuds off for me to see. “Jamming to the Lumineers. Forgot where I was.”
“Does one jam to the Lumineers?”
“What?” he said.
“Nothing, what are you doing here, Emmet?”
“I texted you. I have the evening off.” He showed me a white paper bag from Buca di Peppo. “Thought you might want to eat.”
“Oh, you texted,” I said. “So that’s all it takes.”
“Did I overstep?” he said, suddenly mortified. “I can go.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “I know your free nights are rare.”
“It was all of the sudden,” he said. “I texted you a few times. I just felt inspired, so I showed up.”
“Inspired? For more Italian food?” I said, rummaging through the contents of my purse to find my phone.
“Not just any Italian food,” he corrected me. “Baked rigatoni, penne San Remo, tiramisu… Food for gods.”
“Fat gods
,” I said.
My fingers fumbled through old receipts, empty gum packs, lip balm tubes and scattered coins, but not my phone.
“I must have left my phone at work,” I muttered.
“You didn’t see my texts,” he said. “And I show up like a creeper.” He dangled the food under my nose. “Take the manicotti. Forgive the man.”
I gave him a half-assed smile. “Aww, that was almost a pun.”
Emmet’s smile turned upside down. He was cute when disappointment made him look like a boy. I didn’t have the heart to send him away.
“You can come in, but only if you leave the puns outside.”
It was one of those nights and times in a girl’s life where it would have been easy to jump into bed with a good man like Emmet and forget the world.
I had to be careful. Simply knowing me had become dangerous. If I had any sense, or at least concern for others, I’d stay far away from Emmet.
My vanity was not dead. I studied Emmet’s face to see what he thought of my apartment. Nothing. He took no notice. Was I comparing him to Winter? That’s crazy. For what point? I wasn’t going to psychoanalyze myself during such dire times. Clearly, Emmett was familiar with the disorder that persisted in cramped college apartments after graduation. Winter was not.
I fell back over the arm of the sofa, kicking off my shoes. “So, Groshek, why are you trying to fatten me up?”
Emmet shrugged.
“Is it like a primal caveman thing?” I continued. “You hunt the food for the woman in hopes she’ll be grateful enough to lie back on your furs?”
He sat down next to me. “Wouldn’t a caveman just beat you over the head with a club and then drag you by the hair?”
That would not have gone well for you, Emmet.
The impulse to touch him was very strong. Here was this hot guy, a normal guy, who’d come all this way to see me, patiently waited outside, and was happy for whatever crumbs I threw his way, no questions asked.
Any girl would fall head over heels for this dude.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said. “About you and Sweden. I could come visit. Heck, maybe they have an exchange program where I could spend a month or two there, training at superior sports medicine facilities.”
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