by Wendy Wang
"Who the hell are you?" Megan got to her feet. Her dark green eyes looked him up and down.
Ben pulled his credentials from his pocket and opened the wallet so she could see his I.D. “I’m Ben Sutton. I work for the Defenders of Light. Are you familiar with them?"
"Vaguely." Megan’s feet shifted uncomfortably. She wouldn’t look at him. Instead her eyes darted around the room as if she were looking for an escape.
"Arista called you here because I wanted to speak to you,” Ben said. “Why don’t you have a seat?”
“I don’t want to,” Megan said meekly.
“Sit,” Ben instructed. Megan rolled her eyes, but she didn’t argue.
Arista took a seat on the end of the couch near Megan. She leaned forward with her arms propped up on her knees, studying her niece’s face.
“Where were you three nights ago?” Ben asked.
“I was …” Megan swallowed hard. “I was at home.”
“Anyone with you who can verify that?” Ben asked.
“No. I live alone,” Megan said. “You’re not the police, so why are you asking me these questions?”
“Actually, I am the police when it comes to witches and their use of magic,” Ben said. “Especially when that magic leads to murder.”
“Murder?” Megan muttered. “I did not murder anyone!”
“No? How about summoning a demon then? Which is also against the law, at least for witches.” Ben held a steady gaze on Megan and she didn’t seem to be able to look away from him. She didn’t answer, but she did squirm, hugging her arms across her chest. “Did you summon a demon, Megan?”
“No. How could I? I’m not a very good witch. Just ask my aunt,” Megan’s eyes cut toward Arista.
Arista opened her mouth as if to protest but stopped. Her jowls drooped a little as she frowned. “Oh Megan, that’s not true.”
Ben narrowed his eyes. Carefully, he slipped the flask from his front pocket. “You know, somehow I just don’t believe that. You know what I think? I think you did summon a demon. I think you did it to be taken more seriously as a witch. What’s his name, Megan? Who did you summon?”
Megan shifted again and swallowed hard. She settled her gaze on her aunt. "Are you just going to let him accuse me of stuff?"
"I think you need to answer his questions, Megan," Arista said. "It would be better for everyone if you did."
"You mean it would be better for you. I know my rights," Megan said. "The burden of proof falls on him."
"Yes it does," he said. He moved between her and the door.
Megan's mouth drew up into a determined grimace.
"Megan, honey," Arista said on the edge of panic. "Let me help you. Okay?"
"The way you helped me now? By calling the cops on me? I thought we were family, Arista."
"We are family, sweetie," Arista said.
Ben stepped closer, twisting the metal cap from the flask, ready to take aim. “Megan, have you experienced any lost time?”
“What?” Fright darkened Megan’s green eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Do you wake up, not knowing how you got some place? You can’t remember whole chunks of time. Hours. Maybe even days,” Ben said.
“I … I don’t know. Maybe. The last couple of weeks have been sort of hazy.” She hugged herself tighter and rocked a little from side to side.
“Like living in a dream,” Ben said.
“More like a nightmare,” Megan whispered.
“Tell me about the nightmares, Megan.” Ben knelt in front of her, holding the flask tightly in one hand.
Megan shook her head. Her eyes became glassy with unshed tears. “I … I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I … I don’t know.” Her voice dropped. “It’s like I open my mouth to say something but the words won’t come. Like they’re stuck.” The tears pushed their way onto her cheeks.
“Or like someone won’t let you speak?” Ben asked.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “I’ve tried to scream. I open my mouth, but there’s no sound.”
“And you can see yourself, doing these horrible things, unable to stop yourself,” Ben said. “Like kill that couple and take their baby.”
“It’s not me. It can’t be me.” Megan breathed the words. She closed her eyes and swiped at the trail of tears on her cheeks.
“Who is it, Megan? Tell me his name,” Ben said softly.
“I can’t,” Megan insisted.
“Do you hear his voice? Inside your head. Telling you to do things, things you don’t want to do?” he asked.
“I’m not crazy, “ Megan said, her voice full of defiance.
“No one is saying you are,” Ben said. He leveled his gaze on hers. “What’s the name of the demon, Megan?”
Megan’s jaw flexed. Ben could see the internal struggle on her face. Finally she spat out the words, “I … can’t.”
Ben narrowed his eyes. “You wanted to say something else, didn’t you?”
“Yuh-yuh,” Megan stuttered and grunted, her face reddening. She grabbed hold of her neck as if she were choking.
Alarm filled Ben’s chest and he touched her arm. “Megan? What’s going on?”
“Cuh-can’t bruh-bruh-bruh-eeeathe—”
Arista moved in closer. “Megan? Honey? Help her!” Her eyes pleaded with Ben.
“It’s okay Megan, you don’t have to answer me,” Ben said. Suddenly, Megan’s breath rushed from her body. She heaved forward into her aunt’s arms, coughing and clutching at her throat.
“Dammit,” Ben muttered. “I’m really sorry about this, Megan.”
“What?” Megan glanced up at him. He hoisted himself to his feet and with the flick of his wrist, a spray of the holy water splashed Megan in the face.
Megan flung herself backward into the chair, swiping madly at her face. “It burns! What did you do?”
“Revelare nomen tuum!”
Ben chanted three times while he doused her with the holy water.
Megan scrambled up onto the chair and crouched. Her slim face morphed into a savage mask. A loud hiss escaped her mouth as she batted the place on her face where the holy water had struck her. She blinked and her corneas turned deep red as if they’d suddenly filled with blood. Her pretty green irises disappeared, obscured by a round black pupil.
“There you are,” Ben said. He’d seen a few demons in his time and was prepared for the black eyes. The red, on the other hand, was something he’d never seen before.
A sound emanated from deep inside of Megan’s chest, a mish-mash of growls that sounded like no wild animal he’d ever heard. The primal noise made the hair on the back of his neck and his arms stand up. He shook off the fear and tightened his grip on the flask.
“Very scary," he mocked. His other hand found the hilt of his knife. His fingers deftly unsnapped the leather strap holding the knife in place.
The demon inhabiting Megan's body glanced at his moving hand. Her lips spread into a wide sneer. "Do you think you can hurt me, Defender of Light?"
“Hurt you? Why would I want to hurt you? Hurting you hurts Megan,” Ben said.
“So you care for this sack of meat I’m wearing? How peculiar,” the demon taunted.
“Yeah, I care about other humans. I’m weird like that,” Ben said. “It’s time for you to go.”
“No, Defender of Light,” the demon hissed. “It’s time for you to go.”
Megan launched herself toward Ben with the full weight of her body. Even though she couldn’t have stood taller than 5’2” and weighed a hundred-and-ten pounds soaking wet, she managed to knock Ben backward, making him lose his balance. The two of them spilled onto the floor. Ben’s flask slid across the carpet. The holy water glugged from the opening, drenching the fine, cream and tan Persian rug. The demon hopped to its feet before Ben. It reared one leg back and kicked Ben in the head before he could get out of its way. Red and white stars bloomed before his eyes and his ears began to ring. Ben shook his head and tr
ied to get up. Megan lunged at him with unexpected strength, knocking him onto his side. She stalked over to the marble fireplace and grabbed the shiny brass poker. Ben slipped his hand behind his back and unsheathed the knife.
"Megan, please," Arista begged. "Don't do this."
Megan stopped in her tracks and stared at her aunt. Disgust twisted her lips. She swiped at the air with the poker and Arista flung backward. Her aunt hit near the ceiling and fell to the floor in a crumpled heap.
"This wasn't how I wanted things to end," Ben said. He got to his feet and held the knife out in front of him.
"You think you can kill me?" The demon asked. “You’re not fast enough. I will snap your neck before you can even get close to me.” The demon raised its arm in the air, hand half-open, with fingers bent as if they were wrapped around Ben’s neck.
Ben’s hand flew to his throat. He tried to take a deep breath but something blocked air in or out. Ben dropped the knife onto the carpet. Heat flooded his cheeks and his eyes watered while he scratched at the skin on his neck. Every bone in his neck and spine stretched as he lifted into the air. He pointed the toes of his heavy boots, trying to hold onto the floor without any success. How could this tiny young woman, who, by all accounts, barely had any magic of her own, choke him and lift him up as if he weighed nothing?
She can do anything I want her to, a deep unearthly voice growled through Ben’s mind. Including kill you.
The world grayed at the edges and Ben felt himself shaking back and forth like a lifeless doll. Then he was sailing toward the wall next to the fireplace. The last thought to go through his head before everything went dark echoed through his mind: He never told Jen the truth and now he would never get the chance.
Chapter 20
Charlie slipped her hand into Tom's and descended the three steps of her front stoop. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.
"Are you sure you want to go tonight?" Tom asked. “He’ll be there.”
“I know.” Charlie gave him a smile and let her gaze drift across the expanse of bright green grass separating her uncle's house from the small cottage she rented from him. The sun had not quite set in the sky and the white clapboard house glowed like a beacon in the dying golden rays. She took a deep breath. "Are you ready? I mean it’s not like they don't know already. Well Jen knows anyway. It’s a big step."
"If Jen knows, they all know, right?" Tom smirked.
"None of my cousins are brilliant secret keepers," Charlie said.
"I don't know about that," Tom chuckled. "Lisa knows how to keep a secret or two, being a lawyer and all."
Charlie gazed up at him, a smile playing on her lips. “Well, that’s true."
"It's good that we’re telling them officially." Tom squeezed her hand and gave her a soft smile. "I like things to be out in the open."
"Except the fact that you're a, you know," Charlie teased. "Everyone knows except uncle Jack of course, and the kids. And I'd like to keep it that way."
"Of course,” Tom said. He smiled and her heart fluttered. She knew the face he wore was a glamour, a façade to cover his real face, but she didn't care. He was beautiful. There was no other word to describe him. He had even changed his hair a little for her. She had mentioned that she liked men with longer hair and the next day his hair had grown an inch and was thicker and curlier than the day before. She had to scold him and tell him that hair didn't grow that fast on human beings and that he would need to gradually grow it out.
She’d blinked and his hair was suddenly an inch shorter. She had wrapped her arms around him and run her fingers through his dark mane and he had kissed her deeply for the first time. She shuddered at the memory and reached up and quickly kissed him on the cheek.
"Thank you for understanding,” she said.
"You know it's always been a puzzle to me?" he began. "How is it possible that Jack Holloway is surrounded by witches, and even supernatural creatures such as myself, and he has no clue about them? You all act as if you’re normal."
"I can't say for sure what my uncle knows or doesn't know. I've never asked him. Never quite had the guts. But he's not a fool. And I know Jen and Lisa would object vehemently to doing anything that might mess with his memory." Charlie shifted her gaze back to the house. "My guess is he probably does know on some level that the women in his life are all … different. I doubt very seriously, though, he's put the word witch to it. And if he has, I don't think he would ever say. It's much easier to delude yourself if you don't actually speak the words out loud, you know?"
"Yes," Tom said, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I can see that."
Charlie stopped at the bottom step of the wide back porch to her uncle’s house. The windows and backdoor were closed up tight to keep the late June heat out, but music still managed to escape. Evangeline must have picked it because it was old classic rock. The harmonies of Kansas singing about southern skies drifted from the kitchen. It wrapped itself around Charlie and warmed her heart.
"Come on, let's go get this over with,” she said and stepped onto the bottom stair.
Tom slipped his hand out of hers and wrapped it around her waist, hugging her to him. "It's going to be fine. They like me.”
"Yes they do. They like you very much actually.” Standing on the bottom step, she stood a few inches taller than him. She grinned and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him properly this time. When she pulled away, she brushed her hand over his cheek. “Of course, that doesn't mean they won’t be concerned. Especially Lisa. You still kinda scare her."
"Scare her?" Tom sounded a little offended. "Why on earth would I scare her?"
“She still thinks you're too close to Death. With a capital D."
"For the thousandth time, I am not death. I do not choose who lives or dies. I merely collect the soul and deliver it to its destination,” he said, an indignant grimace twisted his lips.
“I know that.” Charlie laughed and pressed her lips against his. "I'm just saying that's how Lisa sees you. That's all."
The screen door creaked open and Charlie looked up to find her cousin Lisa standing at the top of the steps with her hands on her slim hips. Her strawberry blonde hair was plaited into a long fishtail braid that flopped over one shoulder. She wore denim cut offs and a vintage navy Clash T-shirt.
"Are y'all gonna stand out here all night?" Lisa asked.
Charlie met her cousin's teasing gaze. "We're thinking about it. Depends on what kind of reception we’re going to get."
"You’re never gonna know unless you come inside." Lisa motioned for them to climb the steps. "Hi, Tom."
"Hello, Lisa." Tom offered her a warm smile. Charlie could sense her cousin’s apprehension but she appreciated Lisa's little olive branch. Most of the time she just ignored Tom.
Charlie tucked her arm in the crook of Tom's elbow and pulled him up the steps. "I guess it's now or never."
The pair walked into the kitchen and found a familiar scene. Evangeline was at the stove and from the smell of it she was frying shrimp while Jen tended a small fryer on the counter. Charlie moved in close and watched her cousin drop a handful of perfectly breaded summer squash into the fryer. The golden oil bubbled up once the vegetables submerged.
"Yum!" Charlie said. “You need any help?”
Jen glanced sideways toward Tom and a wide grin crossed her lips. "Nope. Hi, Tom."
Tom stood awkwardly at the end of the table in the middle of the large kitchen. "Hi, Jen."
"Tom you look parched. Would you like a beer? Or some iced tea?" Jen said.
Tom's eyes darted between Charlie and Jen, his expression wary. "Tea sounds wonderful."
"Why don't you go join my dad? Jason and his friend are also in the living room. Do you remember the way?" Jen asked.
Charlie bristled against the mention of Jason. Tom locked his gaze on Charlie as if he were looking for guidance. She smiled and nodded, then gestured toward the door leading to the dining room. “It’s fine. I’
ll bring you your tea. You want lemon?"
"No, thank you." Tom winked, and disappeared through the doorway.
"So you’re making it official?" Lisa leaned against the counter opposite her sister. "You're really dating death."
"Hush your mouth," Charlie and Evangeline hissed simultaneously.
"Tom is not death," Charlie lowered her voice. "How many times do I have to tell you that?"
"Doesn’t matter how many times you say it. I'm not particularly convinced," Lisa quipped.
" I don’t particularly care whether you’re convinced or not,” Charlie said, giving back as good as she got.
"All right you two, that's enough," Evangeline said. "I have these lovely shrimp and flounder fillets and nobody needs a sour stomach because of your bickering. I think it’s wonderful if Charlie’s happy. Ultimately, that’s all that matters."
“Thank you, Evangeline. I appreciate that,” Charlie said. She took a glass from the cabinet, and filled it with ice. A pitcher of freshly made tea sat on the table in the middle of the large kitchen and Charlie filled the glass.
"Lisa, can you mix up that potato salad on the counter next you?" Evangeline asked.
"Me?" Lisa said sounding appalled and terrified at the same time. "I can't cook. Why do you think I come here?"
"Oh good goddess above," Jen muttered. "Get out of the kitchen if you're not gonna be any help. Why don't you go entertain Jason and Tom?"
Lisa folded her arms across her chest and pushed off from the counter. "Fine."
“Here, why don’t you take this to Tom, and I’ll set the table,” Charlie said.
Lisa took the glass and gave Charlie a knowing glare. “I know what you’re doing. You can’t avoid him forever.”
“I do not know what you’re talking about, Lisa Marie,” Charlie said nonchalantly and followed Lisa into the dining room.
Daphne was nowhere to be seen but the extra leaves had already been put in place, making the table long enough to seat twelve. Nine plates had been set out but there was no silverware or napkins. Charlie went to the sideboard and took a stack of white linen napkins and placed one by each plate. A moment later Daphne came in through the door that led to the foyer. She struggled with an extra chair.