Second String Savior

by Rick Gualtieri

  “Sure seems like it.”

  Gary nodded. “Problem is, encouraging words or not, I’m not like him. I’m all juice and no spark—something my parents never failed to remind me of during those few moments when they deigned it worth their time to acknowledge me.”

  We sat there in silence for several minutes. Weren’t we a pair? All I had was my family whereas Gary seemed to have everyone but his—Phil aside, of course.

  “Maybe we can help each other,” I said at last.

  “How so?”

  “By simply having each other’s backs. We just need to be there for each other. Not to mention, if you hang out with me long enough, you’re bound to get plenty of practice for your magic.”

  “I’m not sure it works that way.”

  “Why not? It sounds to me like magic is a skill like any other. Maybe the more you use it, the better you’ll get, until one day . . . BAMF, instant spark plug.”

  “Maybe,” he said wistfully.

  I leaned toward him. “I had this one sensei who used to tell me that talent is a myth people perpetuate to convince themselves it’s okay to give up. Talent is an easy out. If you want to get good at something, you need to work hard and practice.”

  “It’s not the worst advice I’ve ever heard.”

  “If I ever see Sensei McAdams and her epic lucky cat tattoo again, I’ll be sure to tell her.” I said that with a laugh, but when I looked at Gary, he’d turned about ten shades paler. Oh no, what now?

  “You don’t mean Sienna McAdams, do you?”

  “That’s her name, but I thought you said you never took martial arts.”

  “I didn’t. She’s—”

  “No way!”

  “Yes way. She was a PE teacher back at Amherst. She was also a member of the Worcester coven . . . before the big meltdown.”

  “Really?” Holy crap. Gary was right. Once you were finally exposed to the weird, you started to notice it all around you. “Is my dad a warlock, too? Maybe the postman is a werewolf and our physics teacher is from the black lagoon.”

  “Nah, I’m pretty sure he’s just a run of the mill demon,” Gary deadpanned, causing me to snort laughter.

  I fell to the side and ended up leaning against him in my giggle-fit. So, of course, the front door picked that moment to open.

  “Hi, Dad,” I squeaked as I dove for my side of the couch. The look on his face said it all. I was screwed. Suddenly, facing off against vampires didn’t sound so scary in comparison.

  Chapter Fifteen: The Magic of Montages

  After staring Gary down for several long seconds, Dad joined us for the movie, situating himself between us as if he was afraid we were about to go at it right there on the couch in front of him. Once it was over and Gary left, he then gave me his patented eyebrow of doom.

  “Really, Dad?”

  “You’re not the one who walked in on your little girl—”

  “Watching a movie.”

  “Uh-huh.” He was trying to make me squirm. I needed an avenue of escape, but sadly couldn’t use homework as an excuse with school cancelled. Before I could even try, however, he stepped in closer and pointed at my head. “Care to explain?”

  “Care to. . .” A lock of hair picked that moment to flop in front of my face. It wasn’t back to full on neon red, thank goodness, but there were crimson streaks visible. Oh crap! “I was just trying some clip-on extensions for Spirit Week. What, am I not allowed a little Tomahawk pride?” Man, lying was already starting to get easier, wasn’t it?

  He raised an eyebrow again, but then just as I was sure he was going to call me out, he said, “Try something a little darker maybe. Suits your complexion better . . . and nothing permanent.”

  Holy crap. He actually bought it. I raised two fingers. “Scout’s honor.” Now, all I had to do was escape upstairs before. . .

  “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything tonight.”

  “Dad!”

  “Hey. I was once sixteen. I know the moves—”

  “Dad!”

  “I’m being that dad again, aren’t I?”

  I nodded.

  “I’m sorry. You’re right. I didn’t actually see anything.”

  “Because there was nothing to see. I don’t like Gary like that.”

  He held up his hands in surrender. “If you say so, kiddo.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  I’d been hoping for a short reprieve from the weird. Instead, the next day found me sitting in the back of an Audi, my hair tucked beneath my bat-beanie, and drinking an iced coffee while we cased a Polish deli in the canal district.

  I liked kielbasa as much as the next red-blooded American girl, but I had a feeling we weren’t here because Phil had a hankering for some sausage.

  Ugh, phrasing! Even in my head that sounded wrong. “What are we doing here?”

  “Training,” Julius said from his spot next to me, thankfully himself this morning.

  “This is training?”

  “Not exactly,” Phil said, turning around in the passenger seat. “We’re here to recruit someone to train you. Even better, I hear you’re already acquainted.”

  I met Gary’s eyes in the rearview mirror, and he grinned guiltily back.

  “I should warn you,” Phil continued following a generous slurp of her own coffee. “Sienna and I didn’t part on the best of terms, so don’t be surprised it things are a little . . . testy at first.”

  “She’s been briefed, has she not?” Julius asked.

  “Relax, it’ll be fine.”

  Julius sniffed, his mustache puffing out from the exhalation. “You don’t think she’ll be slightly concerned to learn she’ll be training an actual you-know-what?”

  “I’m right here, you know.” Grr. I hated not knowing what was going on.

  “Don’t get your panties in a bunch, dearie,” Phil replied. “It’s just that there hasn’t been a confirmed Icon for centuries. People can get a little over excited about these things and I don’t want word getting out yet. For now, just play along with what I tell her, all right?”

  “It would be a lot easier to play along if I had the slightest idea what was going on.”

  “I’m going to tell her you had an accident with some enchantment magic, which is technically true from a certain point of view. Sienna’s nice enough, but she’s always favored brawn over brains, and subtlety is not her specialty, which is what we need right now. Ah, there she is.” Phil pointed to a woman with short spikes of pink and blonde hair exiting the deli. One glance at the cat tattoo smiling from just over her right breast confirmed it was Sensei McAdams. Jesus, wasn’t she cold in just sweatpants and a tank?

  Phil checked herself in the vanity mirror. I guess there was no sense going into a potential catfight looking sloppy.

  As Sensei approached, I suddenly felt a Pavlovian desire to bow and do twenty pushups. However, she seemed more interested in the platinum blonde witch stepping from the car. “Philomena Bates, what brings you out of your crypt?”

  I smirked from the back seat. This had all the makings of delicious drama.

  “I’m here to talk, that’s all. Okay, technically I’m here to ask for your help but—” Sensei seemed to have no interest in letting Phil finish her sentence, however. She stepped past her, headed toward a big SUV, when Phil said, “I’ll make it worth your while, Sienna. The ManRay incident of ’95 can be erased from history.”

  The what?

  My former instructor stopped cold. “Erased?”

  “Like it never happened. All bridges mended, and all debts repaid.” Something in Phil’s smile gave me a wicked case of the willies.

  I leaned forward to where Gary sat. “What does Phil have on her?”

  “Beats me, but it’s gotta be something big.”

  Phil and Sensei walked to the far side of the SUV. Whatever Phil was plotting, she obviously didn’t want any of the rest of us to overhear it.

  “Jessie?!” Sensei’s voice registered loud and clear. I got out of
the car to see my old teacher with cheeks as bright as her tips and a strange look in her eyes.

  “Hey, Sensei.” I threw her a wimpy wave to go with my quivering voice.

  She looked me up and down then stepped forward, more cautiously than I remembered her ever moving. “My ex-coven sister here says you had a little accident with an enchantment.” She shot a bit of side eye toward Phil. “She also said you needed more training because you pissed off one of the local vampire covens. That true?”

  “One of—”

  “You know how kids are,” Phil said, throwing me a look.

  “I mean, yeah,” I replied, nodding. “Wrong place, wrong time. There were even a couple at my school last night looking for me.” Partly true, anyway. “I’m scared, Sensei, and Phil here said you could maybe help. You don’t know how much it would mean to me to have a familiar face around right now.”

  My teacher’s face softened. “Hey, I can’t leave one of my favorite students hanging in her time of need. Let me get my shit and I’ll meet you at the coven house. We can train there, unless Philomena turned the dojo into a meditation nook or something stupid like that.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  It didn’t take too much time to turn the meditation nook back into a sparring ring. True to her words, Sensei McAdams reminded me handily of all the years it had been since I’d properly trained.

  “You’re rusty, Jess,” Sensei Obvious proclaimed, looking down at the crumpled heap on the floor that was me. Guess I knew how Gary felt after our last training match. On the upside, the only pain I felt was from the morning’s humiliation. My injuries from the vamp attack seemed to be a thing of the past.

  Likewise, my brown locks went bye-bye, as it seemed like every time I pulled myself up from the mat my hair got brighter. As I grabbed my water bottle, I could clearly see my left forearm hairs shifting from golden brown to red.

  “So, the Bates’s were experimenting with enhancement magic and you took a hit by mistake?” Sensei asked as she took a water break as well. Her tone implied she wasn’t entirely buying the lie. “Wait, are you and Baby Bates. . .?”

  “We’re just friends.” Why did everyone immediately go there? Couldn’t a girl have a friend with a Y chromosome in the twenty-first century? “Unfortunately, the magic mishap gave me this.” I pointed to one of the red-streaked Leia buns that I was sporting for the gym session.

  She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Look, I know what you’re hiding.”

  “You . . . you do?”

  She nodded. “I don’t know if you know this, but I was one of Gary’s teachers back at Amherst.”

  “He did mention it. The fear in his eyes made me realize we were talking about the same McAdams.” Yeah, I deserved a jab in the arm for that one. “Ouch!”

  She sized me up. “Look, Gary’s a good kid, but I know he’s kind of a piss-poor mage, and I also know it bothers him a lot. You can see it in his eyes. Philomena is a total bitch to most people, but she has a soft spot for the kid. The enchantment that hit you, do you know what it was originally supposed to do?”

  I had no idea where she was going with this, so I simply kept my mouth shut.

  “There are spells, dangerous spells, that can amplify a witch or wizard’s abilities. The only catch is, magic like that is unpredictable at best. On a Magi it could work, or it could burn out their powers for good. On a normal person . . . well, your hair color obviously isn’t natural, and Phil mentioned you’ve been acting as a sort of magic sponge or dampener. I’m just saying, keep your eyes open. Accident or not, I bet she was playing around with something risky, and I don’t want you to get hurt if she tries shit like that again.”

  “I’ll be careful, Sensei. I promise.”

  She nodded. “Enchantments like these can really go off the rails, especially if you’re full of yourself and think your shit doesn’t stink. Just promise you’ll tell me if you have any other weird reactions. I’m not the sorceress Philomena is, but I’ve got your back.”

  “Whose back?” Sensei stiffened at the sound of Phil’s husky voice. We both turned to see her leaning against the door jamb, an eighties-style boombox in hand. “I made a present for you.”

  “What have you done, Bates?”

  Phil smiled around the cigarette sticking from between her lips. “Behold the Ovation of Orpheus . . . kicked up a notch for the modern era.”

  “Modern? It has a cassette deck,” Sensei scoffed. “What’s next, an eight-track?”

  “The classics never go out of style, no matter the medium.” Phil pressed play and a vaguely familiar but rather stirring drum beat started thumping.

  As the guitar joined in, my teacher raised a brow. “Is that Pat Benatar?”

  “The one and only. Get used to hearing her.” She turned to me. “As for you, get your butt back into the ring and give it another go. I think you’ll like the results.”

  And thus I prepared to get the crap kicked out of me to the chorus of “Invincible.” Sensei and I started in again, and the pace quickly grew furious. The punches and kicks blurred as seemingly every lesson I’d ever taken—karate, judo, Wing Chun, and even the bit of Muay Thai—popped out of my memory and to the forefront of my mind. The more the music played, the more each lesson clarified in my mind until the final refrain sounded, and I snapped my leg around in a Chuck Norris worthy roundhouse kick, connecting with flesh and sending my teacher flying backward onto the mat.

  I could do nothing more than stand there dumbstruck. “I know Kung Fu,” I quipped. “Whoa.”

  Holy crap, I’d just experienced a real-life montage, and it was both brutal and wonderful.

  Phil smiled wickedly. “That was just the first song. Ready for “Love is a Battlefield?”“

  Chapter Sixteen: The New Normal

  Somehow, over the course of a single day, I’d manage to relive months of painful training. My whole body ached and my head pounded with power ballads as I stumbled reluctantly out of the shower at Phil’s place.

  Much to my chagrin, the red had fully returned, but at least no bruises remained on my back. I guess I could add a temperamental healing factor to my growing list of preternatural abilities. Maybe my carrot top would dim just a bit to soothe my throbbing hamstrings and deltoids if I asked it nicely.

  Sensei had promised me daily private lessons at five AM for the foreseeable future. Who needed sleep anyway? She’d even offered to volunteer as a sub over at the gym to help maintain our cover. Uncle Jimmy had been fine with me cutting my hours at the shop so long as I helped out on release day, which meant this was apparently my new normal for the time being.

  Except nothing was really normal, was it? I still had to figure out why vampires had been in my school, not to mention decide if I was going to be in Boston or Marlborough on Friday night since, somehow, I’d landed both a date and a father-daughter hangout on the same night. Things were getting weirder, but at least here in the bathroom I could pretend my life still clung to a semblance of normalcy.

  Or maybe not.

  I wiped the steam off the mirror and promptly screamed as I saw a pair of glowing eyes behind me, attached to what appeared to be a ginormous ape monster. I blinked and it was gone, assuming it had ever been there, but a terrible stench remained, as if the sewer lines had backed up.

  The hell?

  The bathroom door burst open and Phil stepped in, thank goodness alone, as I cowered on the toilet wrapped in only a towel. I could only point and make squeaky noises. “I-I think I saw Bigfoot in your shower.”

  Phil merely nodded and muttered, “Yush,” before wrapping my trembling shoulders with another towel. “Don’t worry about it. The forest guardians sometimes get curious, that’s all.”

  Somehow, her response freaked me out far more than, say, telling me that it had all been in my head.

  “Why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll explain later.”

  That was her advice?! “Bigfoot . . . bathtub . . . bigtub?” I babbled, almost ye
lping in fear when she stepped out the door. Calm down, Jessie. For all you know, every supernatural bathroom comes complete with its own Bigfoot. But if so, how could I ever hope to poop in peace again?

  I couldn’t resist peering around the half-closed shower curtain as I got dressed. There was a twig lying in the bathtub. That definitely hadn’t been there before. Weirder still, the twig held a few leaves—dry despite the wet porcelain. As I stared at them wide-eyed, I could’ve sworn for a moment they . . . sparkled?

  I was right. My new normal was anything but.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “Anyway, I'm sorry, but that just happens to be how I feel about it. What do you think, Jess?” Gary asked. “Hello. Earth to Jess.”

  “Huh?” I blinked and looked around, noticing a chocolate croissant in my hand and the fact that we were now sitting in a coffee shop. “When did we. . .?”

  He nodded knowingly. “Aunt Phil warned me that you might be a little out of it. It’s a side effect of the Ovation. Basically, the enchantment opens the mind so you can either absorb a lot of information in a short time or remember it. The longer the song plays—”

  “The more I remember how to fight. Got it . . . sort of. Between that and shower Bigfoot, I think my brain is a bit scrambled.” I gazed groggily around the café. “Hey, where are the others?”

  “My aunt is working out some details with Sienna. For all the bad blood, once they got talking shop, it was like the band was back together again. It’s lucky for us we were able to get her help. Sienna’s a first class somatic thaumaturge, one of the few left on the East coast.”

  “Gary, I want you to pretend I know next to nothing about witchcraft. In fact, I give you permission to totally mansplain this to me while I nurse a pounding headache, okay?” At least my latte was on point and still covered with frothy whipped cream.

  “She uses magic to punch things really hard.”

  “You could have just said that,” I grumbled, lowering my voice as a lovey-dovey couple sat at the table next to us. Both guys had matching pastries and pumpkin spice lattes, too. Yeah, we were definitely still in New England.