And she hadn’t heard from him since.
Looking at the clock, she sighed. There was an awkward amount of time before work, and she had already worked out and practiced spells today.
Then she remembered Mr. Kim’s mention that his wife wanted to speak to her. She might as well go see them since she had nothing to do, and she wanted desperately not to be left alone with her thoughts right now.
Preparing to go to work after dropping by, she put her purse, tablet, and some snacks into her backpack, then put her leathers over her work clothes and headed to the grocery store.
Mr. Kim looked up at her and waved as she came in. “Kera! Hello. How are you?”
She smiled. “I’m, ah…” She really didn’t want to answer that. “You mentioned a few days back that your wife wanted to see me, and we didn’t have much chance to speak when I came for dinner.”
“Ah, of course.” He nodded. “I’m afraid she is very tired today, so she is resting.”
“Is she all right?” Kera asked worriedly.
“Oh, yes.” He took the time to meet her eyes, reassuring her. “She is well. But the doctor says she should rest more now, and I make sure she does.”
Kera smiled. “Okay. Well, I won’t disturb her, then.” Her smile slipped as she realized she still had to figure out what to do until work.
Mr. Kim saw her expression and looked at her shrewdly for a moment. “You did not answer me when I asked how you were.”
“Ah…” Kera bit her lip. “Could I ask you a few things?”
“Of course.” He nodded. “Let me pour us tea, and we’ll go out into the courtyard.”
Kera felt vaguely as though she were imposing on him, but he didn’t seem to mind. He flipped the sign to closed, locked the door, went upstairs for a minute, and returned with two steaming mugs. He handed her one and beckoned her to follow him through the back door beneath the stairs.
There was a tiny courtyard here, with a little outbuilding that Kera figured they must use for storage.
Mr. Kim waited for her to speak. His stillness was quiet and unimposing, and Kera reflected that she felt no expectations from him. If he had suspicions, he gave no indication of them. He did not press her to speak. She felt like she could drink the tea in complete silence and he wouldn’t mind.
He had picked up three pebbles and was rolling them between his fingers, a motion that was automatic. She wondered if he’d be able to do that if she hadn’t helped with his arthritis.
Enough dodging the conversation. She chewed her lip.
“Mr. Kim,” she said finally, “you said you had some experience with powers attracting attention. Does that have anything to do with why you don’t practice anymore?”
He nodded slowly and his eyes were distant, looking across decades into the past. “Yes. It did cause problems,” he admitted. “Back in my country, before America became my home. Long time ago now.”
She waited for him to go on.
“I was not very smart,” he explained. “Most young people aren’t. No offense, of course. But I got too big. My ego, I mean. My head was bigger than my brain.”
Kera smiled wryly. Strangely, she found it extremely easy to picture the old man as a cocky douchebag of a twentysomething.
“Too many people started to notice me and what I was doing,” he said with a little shrug. “It created...what is the word when things rub against each other badly?”
Kera blinked. “Friction, I think.”
“Yes! Friction, perfect. That. There was no way to keep things steady and peaceful, so I had to make a decision. Either to become someone even bigger, or instead, to leave, run, and hide.”
“You chose to walk away from it,” Kera murmured. Something in her chest felt hollow at the thought of giving up her magic. She had suspected Mr. Kim knew about magic from personal experience, not just hearsay, but having it confirmed almost hurt.
“Surprising, no?” He gave a small smile. “You would think a young man would choose power. When I started out, that’s who I thought I was, but when I looked at the choice… I didn’t want the power, really, because it would have made everything that much harder. You see,” he heaved a sigh, “I had something I wanted more than the magic.”
He turned to look up at the window that overlooked the courtyard. No one was there, but Kera guessed the window over the kitchen sink looked down on this space.
He had left for his wife. He had known he couldn’t have both, and he had chosen her.
Kera looked at the ground. Her heart was thudding in her ears.
“You would think to walk away would be embarrassing,” Mr. Kim said. He was not looking at her and so had not noticed her sudden panic. “But it gave me a chance for a normal life.”
“Because you couldn’t have both,” Kera murmured.
“It would have been very difficult,” he hedged. He looked at her then and saw something on her face. “But I had let things get to a point where a choice needed to be made. It was dangerous to walk away. I had to leave, get far away; that was why we came here. I want you to be careful, Kera, so you don’t have the same problems I had.”
Kera wrapped her fingers around the mug. “Did you…ever tell her?”
He rolled the pebbles to his other hand and nodded. “Yes. First, she did not believe me. When she did, she was angry. I had tricked her, you see. Well, that is a story for another time.”
“But you two worked it out. Eventually.”
“Eventually, yes,” he affirmed. “But it was not quick. She was mad. Angry and crazy, I mean.”
In Mrs. Kim’s position, Kera supposed she would have felt much the same way. “How so?”
He shrugged. “She got even more mad when she realized I had been hiding it from her because to her, that meant I did not trust her. Or so she said. I tried telling her I trusted her enough to tell her now...” His voice trailed off.
“Didn’t go over well.” Kera sighed. “Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.”
Mr. Kim chuckled, and a sardonic gleam came into his eye. “My father once told me, with women, men are damned to begin with, and we only wait to be told what for.”
“Women would say the same thing about men,” Kera said tartly, but her mind was far away from the words. She could not stop her thoughts from applying Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s situation to what was happening with her and Chris.
Should I tell him? She didn’t know. She couldn’t see how she could trust him with that.
But like Mrs. Kim, that would leave him knowing she hadn’t trusted him.
The two stood in silence for a moment, sipping their tea, reflecting, and comfortable in one another’s presence, though Kera supposed the old man could tell she had more she wanted to ask.
There was no use in delaying or denying it. Kera inhaled through her nose, brushed a strand of black hair away from her face, and exhaled through her mouth.
“I like Chris, and if we keep dating, I wonder, well, should I tell him?”
To her dismay, the elderly man shrugged. “That is up to you. There is no right or wrong answer. As you know, your situation and mine are different.”
Kera swallowed. “Maybe not as different as you think.”
“Ahhh.” He gave her a look.
She opened her mouth, then decided she didn’t want to explain just yet. She shook her head.
“Kera,” Mr. Kim said gently.
She looked at him.
“You are a kind person. The way you use your powers is an extension of that.”
Her mouth twisted wryly. Some of the things she’d done to those gangbangers hadn’t been very kind, but she saw his overarching point.
“If I have this power,” she said finally, “it doesn’t feel right to walk away and not use it. Right?” Then she remembered he had done that and flushed. “Sorry.”
“I did not have your skill with healing,” he pointed out. “My powers…I think they have atrophied over the years like a muscle. Whatever it is, I tried to hea
l Ye-Jin and could not. Your powers are different than mine. The choices you have are also different.
“Ugh,” Kera lamented, trying to keep her tone light. “Can’t a girl just once get an easy answer to a complicated problem?”
Mr. Kim smiled at her. “If you find one,” he joked back, “let me know.”
They sipped their tea for a moment.
“I have one more thing to say,” Mr. Kim said finally.
Uh-oh. That wasn’t a happy tone.
Kera swallowed and looked at him, nodding to indicate that he should speak.
“You are right not to tell Christian yet, I think. It is early for you two. But you are wise to know that it might someday be a problem. You like him enough to wonder if you should say something, and…” He hesitated. “At some point, to not tell him means you have made the decision that he will not be part of your future.”
There it was. The thought she had tried so hard to avoid was out in the open now. Kera let out a long breath and tried not to let her mind dwell on it.
“I know,” she said finally. “I know.”
“If there was another answer, I would be happy to give it to you.” His voice was gentle.
“I know that, too.” She smiled. “I should, ah, get to work. Thank you, though.”
“Of course.” He took the mug from her. “I do not know how much advice I can provide, but I am always here. Ye-Jin as well.”
Kera nodded. Speaking to Mrs. Kim might provide a valuable perspective. She headed out, resolutely directing her mind to think about nothing important as she rode. There were certain times a rider could tune out, but heavy traffic was not one of those times.
She’d get through the shift tonight, she thought, and then she’d figure out where she stood on all this.
She just wished it didn’t feel quite so much like time was running out.
Chapter Eighteen
Johnny made his way down the hall, his footsteps quick and quiet. He was wearing a suit again, as he always did when he came to this office. It didn’t bother him particularly. In any business, you could expect to need very specific clothes to show people who you were.
If anything, it was nice to be able to slip into and out of different personas at will.
He entered the small suite of offices they rented, locked the door behind him, and went to knock on Pauline’s door. When she answered, he stepped in and shut that door behind him, talking only once they were certain not to be overheard.
“It’ll be tonight,” he said. “He’s been sitting on all this for a while. Only needed a little nudge.”
Pauline nodded. She looked faintly impressed. “Did you tell him the risks?”
“He knows them,” Johnny said. “He’s been waiting for a while to do this.”
He left it unspoken that his acquaintance was not going to make it out of this alive.
What he was going to do was what violence always did: expose the dark, rotten underbelly of society. It was going to show just how much went unseen and untended to. It was going to repay decades of pain in a single night.
It would make a good demonstration for the people who pretended to keep society in line, and it might just take out the witch at the same time.
Deke worked calmly and carefully. His movements were clearly the result of long habit and training. Unless one looked hard, one would not see anything amiss.
But up close, it would be difficult to miss the feverish eyes.
He gathered all of his gear and laid it out in a row on the table in front of him. A shaft of light fell on two handguns; the first a Taurus 605, chambered in .357 Magnum, the second a Smith & Wesson M&P Shield in 9mm. Other implements sat in the shadows, each carefully maintained.
He walked over to the bookcase against the wall and pushed it aside, exposing the crudely cut doorway he’d devised to link the two apartments. Only one officially belonged to him; the other had been abandoned, so he had appropriated it.
He did not think it belonged to him, any more than he believed it belonged to the landlords, but he did not fear what would happen if his actions were discovered.
He had long ago accepted how the world worked and devised his plans accordingly.
The rest of his things were in a locked container in the second apartment. He did not need the extra space, but he did need a place no one would think to look. Inside the locked chest were a full-sized military surplus backpack and several containers. He opened the backpack to verify its contents: two short-barreled rifles and a solid two hundred rounds of 5.56 NATO ammunition.
It should be enough.
Then, carefully keeping the volatile elements separate and protected as necessary, the man slid the components of a homemade firebomb into the backpack. It was heavy, but when it exploded, it would be lighter than air. The thought made him smile.
He went back into the other apartment, opened the door, and stuck his head out to look both ways down the hall. No one was around. It was well past midnight, after all, and most of the System’s drones were sleeping soundly in their beds. He slipped back into the apartment, closed the door, and ensured that the other device he’d rigged was ready to go.
He had made these plans long ago but had not been certain he wanted to put them in motion. He did not want to be the sort of person who wavered when making a choice, so he had waited for matters to become clearer.
Now they were. He brushed his fingers over the device, and his skin tingled with excitement.
Next, he replaced the bookcase blocking the secret entrance from one apartment to the other, turned out all the lights, and hitched the heavy pack onto his back. He stood there for a moment, allowing his eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness.
He opened the window and climbed out onto the grass. People tended to avoid ground-level apartments, but he liked them for precisely this reason.
He walked quickly and with purpose, accustomed to the feel of a heavy pack. He made his way across the street and into the nearest alley, where he picked up speed. Though he had seen no sign of pursuit, he chose a circuitous path. He slid through the darkest parts of the recesses between buildings in a wide, slow loop.
Eventually, he came to the end of another alley, one from which he could see his apartment building.
He waited, counting under his breath.
Three, two, one…The air cracked apart and a fireball bloomed from the ground floor, centered on his apartment. A second later the shockwave hit, shattering every pane of glass as it blasted outward. Blocks and rubble rained down on the empty lots and scrubby patches of grass and car alarms began to blare.
He could hear women and children screaming and dogs barking. Panic. The smell of smoke in the air.
It smelled like liberation. He smiled and walked into the night.
There was more to do.
Kera slid on her leathers, gathered her things in her pack, and waited for Cevin to finish closing up the bar. They’d completed all the cleaning and such, so the only thing that remained was for him to shut down the computer.
When he was done, they walked out the back door together and checked to ensure the place was secure. The door was shut tight, and the lot seemed safe. He’d been extra-careful since their shakedown attempt, and Kera had to admit that even with the extra time involved, it made sense.
“Okay,” he said finally, “have a good night.” He climbed into his truck.
“You too,” she called. She waved and swung astride Zee, then revved the motor and headed out as Cevin remained behind to smoke his cigarette and listen to the radio.
On a hunch, she took a different route home, a slight detour down East 4th Street, followed by Mateo. The city was fairly quiet by LA standards. She set up her helmet relay for emergency calls but kept the volume low.
Tonight was for thinking. For beginning to make the choice she knew she needed to make.
Deke hobbled down the sidewalk under his big, heavy, bulky backpack, his red jacket rustling slightly in the light breeze. He
heard sirens rising and falling, mostly distant, as squad cars began to surround the wreckage of the apartment building. Few people were around this late at night, and those who were generally had the sense to give everyone a wide berth.
Only one didn’t, a cocky young man who stayed in the center of the sidewalk so Deke would have to push him out of the way.
“Hey,” he called, grabbing Deke’s arm. “Watch it.”
Deke had his revolver in his hand when he turned around. The younger man gawked for a second, then turned and ran without a word.
Good. Someone with sense. Deke watched him go, then resumed walking.
It wasn’t quiet for long before the sound of barking split the air. Looking up, Deke saw a half-tumbled fence and an Irish wolfhound. The dog was snarling between barks, the noise sharp and repetitious and irritating.
Normally, he liked dogs. He even liked that this one was doing its job instead of backing down, but tonight was a night for mayhem. He pulled out his revolver again.
“Hey! Hey! What the fuck?” A woman appeared behind the fence. “You can’t shoot my dog! What are you—”
For some reason, she jumped in front of the creature as the man fired. The gunshot split the air, drowning out the barking, but as soon as it faded, he could hear the woman groaning and gurgling as she tumbled to the ground.
With another snarl, the dog bared its teeth and pounced, forcing Deke to use the revolver as a club. He brought it down sharply on the creature’s head, stunning it with the first blow and putting it down with the second.
“Sorry,” he said to the wolfhound.
He didn’t bother apologizing to the woman.
The report of a .357 being fired would probably attract attention, but there was little worry that the police would connect that event with the bombing.
Even if they did, they almost certainly wouldn’t do it quickly enough. He wasn’t trying to be subtle, after all.
He headed off without a backward glance. It had been a long time since his last ruck march, and the backpack was heavy. He hitched it up on his shoulders again, inhaled deeply, and looked around. The sirens were getting louder, approaching from multiple points throughout the city.
How To Be A Badass Witch: Book Two Page 14