by Rita Webb
hair, and a smattering of freckles are scattered over
her nose.
I paint a smile on my face. “Oh, lovely.”
Unzipping my folder, I flip to the section marked
Introduction to Organic Chemistry and Biochemistry
and tuck the paper inside the pocket. Everything
has its own neat place, carefully marked and
highlighted and tabbed. My pens and markers sit in
the pouch in the front. My calendar, with its nice,
neat handwriting and detailed notes, lies right
behind the pouch.
Everything is perfect.
Perfection keeps my world under control.
It quiets the voices, and I can think.
“So what did you get on the quiz?” Katie holds
up her B paper.
Snapping my folder shut before she can see, I
zip it closed. “An A,” I lie.
I should have had an A. I studied and knew all
the answers, but during the quiz, this strange
humming noise buzzed in my ear, distracting me.
The voices whispered underneath the humming,
and I knew they were talking about me. But the
more I strained to listen, the less I could make out
what they said. I almost yelled how rude they were,
but that would have interrupted everyone else
taking the test.
I’m pretty sure the voices did it on purpose.
They wanted me to fail. Thankfully, it was just a
quiz. I’ll work extra hard to make up for this.
Tucking the notebook into my backpack and
bundling up in my coat and gloves, I follow Katie
out to where a group of girls—Sarah, Cyndi,
Brianna, and a few others—huddle by the doors.
“Are we ready?” Sarah asks, and the group of
girls breaks into laughter.
I giggle too, even though I don’t know what is so
funny. Making sure I don’t have toilet paper stuck
to my shoe or ink spots on my clothes, I look down
at my outfit. I’m wearing a pink sweater overtop of
red leggings with white, fur-lined snow boots.
Fingernails painted to match my sweater. My high
pony tail swings with a perfect little bounce, and
my silver-heart earrings jangle and shimmer.
I dress to fit in. As long as I look nice on the
outside, no one will know I’m falling apart.
“Are you going to drive or ride with one of us?”
Katie frowns as if she’s been asking me this for a
while.
They don’t like you.
I ignore the voices and hide my trembling hands
behind my back.
Look at Cyndi. See the smirk on her face? She’s
laughing at you.
The girls stare at me like I’m an alien. If I wasn’t
on the cheerleading squad, I wouldn’t be accepted
in this group. Even then, I have to work hard to
keep my spot in the pecking order.
“I’ll ride.” I plaster a fake smile across my pink-
frosted lips. I hate driving downtown where I have
no control of the traffic. Lack of control scares me.
We park in an underground garage, and I shiver,
thinking of the tons of cement over my head. It
could come crashing down around me, and I would
be trapped.
Jogging, I rush toward the stairs and the exit, to
the fresh, open sky. Shoving the door open, I
stumble out and gulp down the clean air. Bitter
wind whips around me, teasing my pony tail and
chilling my exposed skin. In my hurry to get out, I
forgot to bundle up.
Someday, I’m going to live somewhere warm,
where the wind and static electricity can’t ruin my
appearance in the winter, where I won’t have to
wear a hat when I go out and risk having hat head
the rest of the day.
“What got into you?” Sarah says behind me.
Cyndi sneers at me. “Little miss perfect got a
bug up her ass?”
The other girls giggle.
My fake smile feels brittle as I tuck my shaking
hands into my pockets. “I’m just a little hungry.”
Ten o’clock, and the sun is just peeking up over
the eastern horizon, painting the sky golden, a
delicious treat for my sun-deprived skin. Turning
my face into it, I soak up every ray.
Out here, the voices are quieter, muffled. They
hide from the brightness. If I could live somewhere
tropical, where I could spend every day in the
sunlight, maybe they would finally go away.
Laughing and gossiping, I follow the girls. I am
one of them. I’m normal.
“So Angelina—” Cyndi sidles up to me. “I heard
Tyler asked Brianna to the Valentine’s Ball this year.
I guess he finally gave up on the Ice Queen.” She
says the last two words in a sing-song voice.
The voices snicker, and I shudder at the sound
of their raspy cackles.
I shrug. They’ve been calling me Ice Queen all
year because I refuse to sleep with the basketball
team. Girls like Cyndi and Tonya say it’s our duty to
give our team inspiration. I say what happened to
women’s lib? Or self-respect?
I can’t tell them I’m saving myself for someone
special. He’s got dark hair and hazel green eyes
flecked with gold, and he’s been my prince
charming since I was in third grade. He bandaged
my skinned knee and gave me a piece of chocolate.
They don’t believe in true romance, just one night
stands with guys with perfect bodies.
Tyler is the entire cheerleading squad’s dream
guy, and more than half of the girls have already
been in his bed, willingly or not.
But I want someone with personality. Character.
Someone who wants a relationship, not just a
player looking for a quick screw before moving
onto his next score.
I scowl at her. “Shut up, Cyndi. Quit being such a
bitch.”
She puts a hand on her hip. “Oh, where did you
get a backbone?”
What would my sister Emma do? Unlike me,
she’s the kind of girl who wouldn’t back down from
a fight. Pretending for just a moment I’m that kind
of girl, I channel her spirit and lift my chin and glare
at Cyndi until she looks away.
“You’re such a joke, Angelina,” Cyndi says.
Sarah sighs. “Shut up, Cyndi. You’re just jealous
because Steve said she could really shake her
booty. Get over it all ready.”
“All I’m saying is that I know how to keep a
man’s interest. I wouldn’t keep a man waiting so
long he’d go hunting elsewhere. Her loss, huh. Isn’t
that right, Brianna? I’ve seen how late your tutoring
sessions last.”
Bent shoulders, Brianna pales and walks faster.
No one else seems to notice. The dark cloud that
had enveloped her weeks ago in the hotel room
wraps itself around her again.
Turning on Cyndi, Sarah snorts. “Oh wait, you
already had him. I believe he called you ‘clingy,
lazy, and a lush,’ and didn’t he kick you to the curb
after just one
little month?”
“You did not just say that, girlfriend. Steve told
me all about what a frigid little bitch you were.”
“You’re welcome to him, girl. If he’s willing to
cheat on me with the first slut spreading for him,
I’m better off with out him.”
“What did you call me?”
The anger bites at my skin like an icy wind.
Shuddering, I walk faster, catching up with Brianna.
“Are you all right?” I whisper and put a hand on her
shoulder.
Brianna cries out and cowers away, cradling her
arm against her body. A sick feeling squirms in my
stomach as she rubs her arm and hangs her head
submissively.
What did that bastard do to her?
Last September, she was feisty, the life of the
party. She would throw her head back and laugh
like her heart was brimming with joy. Now she
can’t even smile.
Leave it alone. It’s not your business. You should
hear the things she says about you.
I don’t care what she said.
Nobody deserves to be hurt.
“Hey, we’ll talk later,” I say. “When we’re alone.
Okay?”
She nods.
“Promise?”
She nods again but still doesn’t look me in the
eye.
My phone rings, and I pull it from my pocket, as
I peer at the image of the caller while gripping
tightly against the vibration so it doesn’t slip out of
my gloved hands.
Jason.
Jason calling me.
My heart stops.
“Hello, Jason.” My voice sultry and soft.
Tonya elbows Cyndi in the side. “Angelina has a
boyfriend.”
“What would the team say? Their favorite girlie
talking to another man.” Cyndi gives me a vicious
grin.
The girls continue traipsing down the sidewalk,
but I stop to stare in the window of a shop and
watch two people in their mid-twenties, holding
hands and oohing and aahing over a rocking chair.
She tucks her hand under her swollen belly.
And I wish, wish, wish, that were me and Jason. I
would be so good to him.
“Hey, Angelina.” He clears his throat, and a thrill
runs through me at the sound of his voice. Calling
me. “I’m driving up in a couple weeks for Emma’s
birthday. Hoping you’d coordinate with me so I can
get there at the right time to catch her before her
classes start.”
My heart freezes in the Alaskan wind and
shatters into a thousand pieces. Emma. My sister.
Imperfect. Messy. Disorganized.
She doesn’t even brush her hair or wear
matching clothes.
What Jason sees in her, I don’t understand.
“You’re so sweet, a great best friend to my
sister. Of course, I’ll help you.” I smile through
clenched teeth.
“Thanks. I knew I could count on you.”
“I’m out for lunch with friends. I’ll call you
tonight, all right?” I say sweetly.
“Sure. Later then.” He hangs up.
I don’t hang up, but slowly drop my arm to my
side. Inside the store, the man leans down and
kisses the woman. She smiles up at him.
I would make Jason so happy. He only needs a
chance to see me, to know I’m what he really
wants.
Tears blur my vision, and I dash them away with
the back of my hand. How come I can be strong for
Brianna and stand up to the likes of Cyndi, but I
can’t be strong for myself?
You’re a doormat. People use you and wipe their
feet on you. But they don’t care about you.
In a way, that’s always been true. Dad always
admired Emma’s spunk and courage, and I was
always his disappointment.
All your life, you stood in Emma’s shadow. Jason
will never see you as the woman you are.
It’s true. I wipe a tear from my eye before it
freezes on my cheek.
“Aaw, what’s the matter, princess? Trouble in
paradise?”
Laughter follows Cyndi’s words.
“Shut up! Just shut up!” I turn and run blindly,
deeper into the city. Jogging around corners,
passing shops, racing to get away from the hollow
laughter …
I dart across the road. A car honks and breaks
squeal. But I don’t look around; I just keep running.
Turn here. The voices hiss, the words slipping
inside my ear. I can feel the words burning their
way into my head, sliding around my skull, sliming
everything they touch.
I mindlessly obey, turning down the narrow
alley. The dumpster reeks and a black alley cat
skitters across my path. But the voices are behind
me; their foul breath brushes against my neck,
smelling of brimstone and death. Claws scrape
against my shoulders, and I hurry to get away from
them.
At the end of the alley, a set of stairs lead down
to a basement door. Above the door, the sign
reads, “Mama Maria’s Bookstore.”
Fear nipping at my heels, I rush down the stairs,
fling open the door, and, slamming it behind me,
sink to the floor.
A sob wells up and escapes my lips.
“With tears like those, I suppose you are here to
buy a curse,” a black cat says to me.
Closing my eyes, I will the illusion to go away,
but when I open them again, she’s still there,
licking her paws, wiping her whiskers.
So the cat may be real, but maybe I imagined
her speaking.
“Well, you’ve come to the right place. Curses
are my specialty.” She peers down at me with the
typical cat disdain.
Chapter 6
~ HUNTER ~
The limo winds through the narrow streets.
Pedestrians mill through the market, barely moving
out of the way as we pass. Darting in and out of the
crowd, bicycles zip past us as we creep forward.
I hate this waiting.
A low rumbling growl fills the space around me,
and I realize that the sound is coming from me. The
orc chuckles.
I force myself to stop and unclench my fists.
As we approach the location, I can feel a
glamour settling over the vehicle. Minutes later, we
arrive at the theater. The orc pulls up to a gate and
hands the attendant a paper, and then he drives
into a courtyard and around a fountain, glittering in
the golden sunlight, and stops at the front door.
A porter opens my door and I climb out. I watch
the small man as he studies my ticket. Human.
Mundane. How does a human without any magic
get himself caught up in this … mess?
I scan the courtyard. All around me, excited
people practically bounce out of their limos—a man
in a cape smelling of blood and magic with a half-
naked, human woman on his arm, her excitement
causing her to jiggle in all the right places. An elven
lady with silver hair sparkling
like starlight and her
entourage. A short, pudgy hedge witch carrying a
poodle under one arm and one of those stupid
cigarettes on a stick, like Cruella Deville.
Everyone talks at once, a cacophony of buzzing,
and even with my heightened sense of hearing, I
can’t pick out a single conversation in the crowd.
Free fae, wizards, dwarves, a few gnomes, and
even rich humans who shouldn’t know anything
about our world. The smells of all these races mix in
the sweltering heat, and magic reeks through all of
it.
Oddly, there aren’t any children here. Isn’t a
circus designed to entertain children?
Then again, I never would have brought my
children here. Sammi would’ve murdered me. The
thought makes me smile. She was so feisty when
she got angry.
“All is in order. No glamour beyond the front
door,” he reminds me, handing me back my ticket.
His pale eyes look into mine and through me as if
I’m not really here.
“Thank you,” I say, but he doesn’t respond,
already turning to the next limo pulling up.
What does this sorcerer do to his minions to
bleed their souls dry? I shudder, remembering my
employer Jezebarra. Meet one sorcerer, you’ve met
them all.
According to Spyder, he is a very powerful
sorcerer; if I leave my glamour up, he will notice.
Removing the Stetson, I follow the crowd into
the old theater. Nobody pays attention to one
more non-human in the crowd.
The interior of the theater is replaced by tents.
The stench of animal feces and hay hits my nostrils,
and I reel back, covering my nose. Under the odor, I
can pick out the smell of fear and despair. Although
I won’t like giving this bracelet back to Jezebarra,
I’ll enjoy stealing it from Alistrad.
A large sign dominates the front of the largest
tent:
Michael
Magnificent
and
the
Magician
Magellan’s Magical Menagerie of Malicious and
Monstrous Misfits.
What a ridiculous name for a circus.
Spyder’s information indicates Michael is simply
a face man. Alistrad—calling himself Magellan—
runs the show. He’s the one who holds the collars. I
don’t like the implications of the ‘monstrous
misfits’ part either. Just how many chimera does he
have in here? Worse, what he does do with them?