Mad Magic

by Nicole Conway

  Zeph lunged at me suddenly, his jaw clenched and teeth bared. I caught a glint of those pointed canines again.

  I panicked and tried to run back down the stairs, but he grabbed the back of my coat and picked me up like a crash test dummy. He threw me over his powerful shoulder and carried me into his apartment.

  I yelped and struggled until he set me back on my feet. Then I got a good look at the rage skewing his handsome features. He slammed his front door and backed me up against it, looming over me with a smoldering glare.

  I dropped my purse as he planted his hands against the door on either side of my shoulders, leaning in to put his face uncomfortably close to mine. His heavy breaths puffed against my cheeks, and his earthy scent sent a warm shiver down my spine. My fingers slowly curled into fists.

  I couldn’t look away.

  His features shifted. His body shape changed, growing taller. His hair became a different style and color. In a matter of seconds, he was back to looking like the tattoo-covered, delinquent Zeph I’d known before.

  “H-how did you do that?” I whispered.

  “Magic.” He pushed away from the door and turned his back to me.

  “No, I’m serious. How?”

  “I am serious.” He stormed away into the kitchen and began rummaging through his cabinets for food. I got a little twinge of satisfaction when I saw him pull out one of the containers of cookies I’d made for him. “I’m not like you, in case you hadn’t noticed. I’m not human.”

  That was the understatement of the century. “Oh, I noticed. The glowing wings and fangs were a dead giveaway.”

  He returned my dirty look even as he crammed a whole cookie into his cheek like a hamster, and chewed loudly.

  “So what are you, then?” I walked around the kitchen island to stand in front of him, grabbing the container of cookies and plopping it on the counter so I had his full attention. “I need to understand. Please, Zeph.”

  He chewed, swallowed, and avoided my gaze like a rebellious child. His face turned a little pink over his nose. “You won’t believe me. Or you’ll laugh. Or both.”

  “I was almost mauled to death by a giant wolf in my living room last night and I just saw you transform into a completely different person right before my eyes. I’m pretty sure I’d believe anything you tell me at this point.”

  I grabbed one of his big, rough hands and squeezed it.

  His cheeks and nose turned a dark shade of red, and he scrunched his mouth up uncomfortably.

  He took in a slow, deep breath. “I’m a faerie.”

  I struggled to keep my lips sealed tight until I was sure I could talk without a giggle slipping out. “A faerie? You mean like Tinkerbell?”

  “Is that supposed to be a joke?”

  “I just, um, I’m trying to wrap my mind around it. What do you mean, exactly? What kind of faerie has wings, horns, and fangs, anyway?”

  “It’s complicated,” he snapped defensively. “Humans understand next to nothing about us, which is generally better for everyone.”

  A thick silence settled between us as I stood watching him cram an inhuman amount of cookies into his mouth.

  If this was some kind of psychological game of chicken, I wasn’t going to lose. I wanted to know more about him, and more importantly, I wanted to know why I was involved in all this. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem willing to tell me anything more.

  “So it’s some kind of secret?”

  He made a flustered, growling sound. “I don’t have time for this. Besides, we shouldn’t be talking about that kinda thing here.”

  I frowned. “What? Why not?”

  “You wanna know about the fair folk? You’re going to have to come with me then. I’ve got work to do. We can talk there,” he grumbled sheepishly through a mouthful of cookie. “Go change into something that makes me look less like a pervert.”

  Glancing down at my school uniform, I couldn’t help but agree. It was bound to look strange for someone like him to be seen walking with a high school girl in a short, pleated skirt and knee-high socks. Someone might call the cops.

  Zeph stood waiting for me in the hallway when I returned. I’d taken my time dressing in a much more sophisticated outfit with skinny jeans and a nice sweater. I’d even put on a little makeup and fixed my hair into a long French braid.

  I was hoping for some praise, or at least some acknowledgement as I walked up to him. I should have known better. Zeph never looked up from where he was typing away on his cell phone. He had one of those strange cigarettes between his lips and the collar of his black wool coat turned up, hiding his neck.

  I cleared my throat to get his attention, wrapping my favorite wool scarf loosely around my neck. “Where are we going?”

  He crammed his cell phone into his back pocket with a sigh. “Angry Hank’s Bar and Grill down on 31st. I bartend there some nights.”

  I nodded, suppressing a proud smile. I was right about his job, after all. No wonder he kept such strange hours.

  He stopped right outside the door to fish through his coat pockets. He pulled out a silver metal zippo lighter, lit his bizarre parchment cigarette, and took a few deep puffs of it. The smoke was much more delicate, fragrant, and earthy—not like something that might be illegal, rather something that had been made without a hundred dangerous toxins added to it. Now that I’d been around him for a little while, I actually found myself liking that smell. Where did he get those things, anyway?

  I caught him glancing down at me. “What?”

  “They say smoking kills, you know,” I baited.

  Zeph snorted like that was funny. “Maybe smoking that shit you humans make does.”

  I shrugged. “Some people think it’s gross.”

  “So is picking your nose, or biting your nails. I’ve seen you do both, by the way.”

  My face flushed and I tripped over my own feet. “T-that’s—I would never—”

  It made him chuckle. “I’m just teasing. Lighten up. You get ruffled way too easily.”

  He might have been right about that. But I wasn’t used to this—having someone to talk to, joke with, or even walk next to. Already his presence beside me felt comfortable, as though he belonged there.

  “There’s that creepy smile again. What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing, according to you,” I deflected. “So why are we going there? Is it safer to talk at a bar?”

  “That’s what Hank claims. Anyway, I already told you, I have work to do. I need to restock the bar before the start of tonight’s shift.” Zeph shrugged as he began walking down the sidewalk again.

  It was still early in the afternoon, well before rush hour, so the streets weren’t crowded. I kept close to him anyway, stealing glances up at his face whenever he wasn’t looking. We walked in silence for several blocks. I tried to think of something to say, something not weird or related to him being a faerie, but my mind just kept going back to all the strange things I’d experienced in the past twenty-four hours. There was so much I wanted to ask him, and I wasn’t sure where to start.

  “So this cousin of yours, does he have a last name?”

  A bolt of panic coursed through my body.

  I couldn’t meet his eyes as I scrambled together the best excuse I could think of. “O-of course. Same as mine. We’re cousins, after all.”

  “Anyone ever mention that you’re a terrible liar?”

  “Oh, shut up. I don’t know his real name, okay? He’s always just called himself my benefactor. I call him “Ben” for short. He’s never told me what his real name is. That was part of the deal he struck with my dad, apparently. He’d take care of me, but I wasn’t allowed to know who he was.”

  “And you never asked?” Zeph sounded even more suspicious now.

  “No,” I admitted. It was embarrassing to even think about it, let alone say it out loud. “It’s not like he’d tell me, anyway. It was made pretty clear to me at the beginning t
hat I would never have a relationship with him. He doesn’t share his personal information with me.”

  He made a thoughtful noise as he puffed more smoke into the cold evening air. “So why is he taking care of you? Where are your parents?”

  I winced, and then steeled myself against the pain. I knew Zeph wasn’t trying to be hurtful; maybe he just didn’t know any better. Anyone would wonder that after seeing how I lived.

  “Dead.” I turned my face away so he wouldn’t see my chin trembling. I bit down hard to try to make it stop. He was right; I wasn’t a good liar. And I wasn’t good at hiding my feelings, either.

  I could see him leaning around to peer at me out of the corner of my eye. I expected to see pity or sympathy, since that’s usually how people respond to that kind of news. Instead, he just looked confused.

  “Both of them?” He flicked his ashes onto the sidewalk.

  I nodded. “It’s sort of a family curse, I guess. My mom died when I was little. I don’t remember anything about her. My big brother, William, was killed in a car accident when I was in middle school. And then my dad …”

  My voice died in my throat as the more recent memories of my dad’s death clouded my mind. Time had numbed me to the pain of losing my other family members, but the loss of my dad was still fresh in my heart. Just the thought made my insides burn like they were on fire. It was a deep, aching pain that rose up and made my eyes well with tears. God, I missed him.

  “That’s … uh, strange.”

  “Not any stranger than being a glowing demon-faerie-thing.”

  He didn’t retort.

  We walked in silence again, passing block after block with a weird tension in the air between us. We passed apartment buildings, shops, restaurants, and bus stops. Other couples walked by on their way to the downtown business district, but they looked a lot happier than we did. They were holding hands or leaning on one another. It wasn’t hard to imagine that they were going out for a nice evening together, maybe for dinner and a movie.

  My hand was empty, and even though Zeph was walking close beside me, I could imagine how he might react if I reached out to him. Still, my fingers ached, wishing I could cross that tiny bit of distance between us. It was a purely selfish desire, though.

  Zeph grabbed the hood of my coat, snagging me before I stumbled into the busy street like a dog on a leash. “Watch it,” he murmured before letting my hood go. “Where’s your head?”

  I wasn’t sure. I looked up at him through bangs frizzed by the chilly wind. I was remembering how he had kissed me on the cheek earlier that day. Sure, I knew it probably hadn’t meant a thing to him. The whole Joe Noble ruse was probably just to jerk me around and snoop around in my personal life. And when he’d kissed me, it was most likely just to make his story more convincing.

  But that was the first time in my life a boy had ever kissed me.

  “Zeph.”

  He glanced down at me, taking the last few puffs from his cigarette before flicking the butt onto the sidewalk. “What?”

  “Why are you doing this?” I dared to ask. “Helping me, I mean. Going to school with me. Rescuing me from monsters in my apartment. You do realize there’s nothing I can do to repay you. I … I don’t have any money.”

  Zeph looked shocked for a moment. Standing there, just a few steps away, we stared into each other’s eyes. There was something strange in his expression, almost like he was trying not to panic.

  “I just feel sorry for you, I guess.” His tone was stiff and uncomfortable as he turned away to cross the street.

  That jerk—he was an even worse liar than I was!

  There was a large neon sign over the door of Angry Hank’s, depicting a stomping bull with a ring through its nose. Even from a distance, I could sense that there was something strange about the place. Just looking at it made my insides get all jittery.

  Zeph starting picking up the pace as we crossed the street. He was practically jogging by the time we got to the door. He hurriedly unlocked the door then shoved me inside ahead of him before locking it behind us. Overhead, an old brass bell jangled to announce our arrival.

  Once we were inside, he let out a relieved sigh and switched on the lights. He shrugged out of his heavy winter coat and draped it over the back of one of the tall, leather-backed stools.

  “Fantastic. He’s not here yet. Let’s get this over with.” He talked to himself as he made his way behind the bar.

  I followed slowly, letting my eyes roam over the dimly-lit room. The old wooden floors creaked as I walked after Zeph, and the glass panes on the big windows facing the street looked wavy and ancient. A dozen matching barstools lined the bar where Zeph stood, flipping through a notepad for an empty page.

  “Take a seat, small fry.” He pointed at one of the stools with the end of a ballpoint pen. “I have to take inventory and restock. It won’t take long.”

  “Okay.” I struggled to get comfortable on one of the barstools. Unfortunately, my legs were so short and the barstool was so tall that my feet didn’t even come close to touching the floor.

  I caught Zeph grinning as he quickly filled a glass with ice and soda.

  “No alcohol for the short girl,” he teased with a roguish grin, winking as he topped the drink with a straw before sliding it toward me.

  I was beginning to suspect that his habit of calling me annoying pet names was some bizarre way of showing affection. Two could play at that game.

  “No tip for the butthead.”

  He laughed, which caught me off guard and completely stole my thunder. He had a wonderfully deep, rich laugh. I loved it instantly. “Good one. All right, sit tight. I’ll be right back.”

  I sipped at the soda as he disappeared into the back room through a pair of saloon doors. When he came back, he had brought out boxes of imported, bottled beers and liquors, packages of straws, boxes of limes and oranges, and other materials.

  “Can I ask questions now?” I leaned over the bar to watch him work.

  “Sure,” Zeph grunted as he squatted down to open a huge freezer door hidden under the bar.

  My heart beat faster, and I chewed furiously on the straw in my drink. “What are you, exactly? I mean, I know you said a faerie before. But, what does that even mean?”

  “Faerie is a broad term. It’s like calling you a mammal.” His tone was relaxed and casual as he distracted himself with refreshing the materials behind the bar. “There are lots of different kinds of fae, and history has slapped its own labels and explanations on us. Most of them are completely false. Every culture calls us something different: gods, angels, demons, ghosts, yōsei, mermaids, werewolves, spirits, vampires … blah, blah, blah. You get the idea.”

  “What kind are you?” I interrupted.

  He was quiet for a moment, like he was trying to decide whether or not to answer. “A changeling,” he spoke at last in a quiet, reluctant voice.

  “Changeling …” I repeated that name. “And what does that mean, exactly? Is that why you can change your appearance? I thought changelings were swapped with children or stolen babies or something.”

  His lips thinned and his brow crinkled slightly as he leaned over the liquor bottles. “No. There are lots of stories about my kind. Most of them aren’t true. Not that it matters. Humans tend to believe what they want to believe regardless of what the facts are.”

  “You said it was magic. So magic is real?”

  Zeph turned and pointed a finger at me with a mischievous smile. “Nuh uh. You get one question, and then I get one. That way it’s fair. I’m not gonna have you pilfering through my personal life unless I get some payback. Got it?”

  I frowned and sank down in my seat a little. I could guess what he was going to ask about, and I didn’t want to talk about that anymore.

  “Come on, don’t sulk like that. I’ll be nice about it. Scout’s honor.”

  I sighed. “Fine.”

  “Why’d your dad leave yo
u in the care of someone you don’t know? Do you even realize how bizarre that is? It sounds like you don’t know anything about him at all. He could be a drug lord for all you know.”

  So much for being nice.

  I slammed a hand down on the bar top angrily. “My dad would never leave me with someone like that!”

  “Probably not, but you don’t know that.” He arched a brow at me, giving me that candid, skeptical expression that was so unique to him. “Why haven’t you ever asked Ben about any of this?”

  “I don’t want to invade his privacy. Like I said, after Dad died, the lawyers made it very clear to me that I wasn’t being adopted. I wasn’t Ben’s child.” It sounded like a pitiful excuse, even to me. “And besides, Dad promised he was a good person. He said Ben would take care of me. That’s all I need to know.”

  Zeph shook his head and looked away.

  “Hey! You didn’t know my dad, okay? So don’t act all cocky. My dad was a wonderful man! I may not understand why he chose Ben to be my legal guardian, but I have faith in his decision.” My hands curled into fists. “And it’s my turn again. Tell me about magic. What is it? How does it work?”

  “You might as well ask me to explain the meaning of life to you.” I got another scathing, exasperated Zeph-glare from over one of his broad shoulders. “Magic isn’t what you humans think it is. It isn’t sparkly dust that makes you fly or happy thoughts, rainbows, or wishing on shooting stars.”

  As he began putting new liquor bottles up on the shelves behind the bar, the muscles of his back pressed against the fabric of his shirt. There were no traces of wings there anymore, and no horns hiding in his messy dark hair. I’d seen three different versions of him so far, and I had to wonder … which one was the real Zeph?

  “Magic is like water. It’s required for all things on this earth to live and it cycles through the world to be reused over and over again. Some things, even some people, soak up more of it than others or require more of it to live. Children are usually more attuned to it than most. They soak it up like little sponges.” Each word from his lips carried a weight I could feel hanging in the air. “Any being on earth is capable of using it, although humans lost interest and forgot how to do that a very long time ago. Most of them can’t even see it or feel it anymore. Their minds have turned to things of metal. It can be that way for faeries, too. In fact, a lot of us have fallen from our former glory to be fed by the machines of the modern world.”