He didn’t look back.
***
Abby pulled herself ashore like a draggled water-rat, flopped onto the wharf and stared up at the empty sky.
Well, she thought, that wasn’t how it normally goes in the movies.
And despite everything, she began to laugh, her tears mingling with the seawater on her cheeks.
She lay on the deck a while, past the point of tears or rage. Instead, she was filled with a sort of numb emptiness, through which questions slowly floated.
How, and when, did Casey get brainwashed by Vassago?
Why am I doomed to always lose Drake – even when things seem rosiest?
Abby pulled her shoes off, emptying the seawater. To add insult to injury, it looked like she was going to be squelching through town now too. She’d almost welcome a demon now so it could dry her off.
Where the fuck are the S.B.A. and the other supernaturals? she wondered. Why does it always feel as if I am on my own?
Dumbly, she pulled her soaked shoes back on, wrung as much water out of her shirt as she could and then got to her feet. Hopefully, she looked up at the empty sky.
Where did Drake go, and why does he care that I’m Vassago’s daughter? I’m not Vassago himself.
Abby found herself wandering the streets of Rotwood Harbor yet again. She sank into a state of wakeful dreaming, thinking about everything and nothing all at once.
Without knowing why, she found that her feet had led her to the front door of Flick the Bean coffee shop.
Flick the Bean’s smashed and buckled door had been boarded over, the windows were dark and dusty and nothing could be seen inside due to the heavy metal shutters. It was apparent that the café had been deserted since the night the red-eye demon had come calling and Chaz had been gruesomely murdered.
Abby stood staring vacantly at the blank shop front, remembering the night that everything had changed. She remembered how she had consigned herself to yet another boring ten hours spent behind the counter, serving people who had more money than she did and could afford some of life’s little luxuries.
It felt like a million years ago.
Abby wandered around the corner and turned down the alleyway behind the shop. She hadn’t had time to check out the building’s exit wound before, where the red-eye demon had been blasted through the wall – and killed, Abby reminded herself. The hole in the brick wall was still there, though it had been hastily boarded over. The brick exterior wall of the building opposite the hole was crushed inward, as if it had been hit with a wrecking ball. Abby guessed that was where the red-eye demon had hit, coming to a very abrupt, very terminal halt. A few fallen bricks still lay in the alleyway.
Abby turned and ran her eyes over the hole in Flick the Bean’s wall, at the sheet of plywood that had been used as a patch, and noticed that the crude barrier appeared to have been tampered with. She looked closer. Yes, it looked very much like someone had jimmied it open recently.
It might just be kids, Abby thought to herself, her ear turned to the slight gap in the barrier, trying to catch any sound from within. It could just be an enterprising bum who has realized that an abandoned shop is just the place to set up and stay out of the weather.
A prickling across Abby’s skin, however, told her that this probably was not the case.
Wedging her elbow into the small gap between the wooden sheet and the wall, Abby managed to lever the slight opening wider and, with only a couple of mild grazes, she slipped inside.
She emerged into the main part of the shop. The air was musty with the smell of neglect. It was clear that no one had been in here since the night the Ravencharm police closed it up tighter than a drum. Abby saw that there was still food in the cabinets, and she wept inside at the sight of the moldy foxberry scones. They’d been her favorites.
Abby wandered around, not really looking at anything in particular, just recalling what it had been like the last time she had stood inside these four walls. She couldn’t remember the sort of problems that version of herself had been battling, but she grinned, remembering how much it had irked her to have a boss like Chaz. Now she’d give a lot to return to those simpler days.
As she walked slowly around the counter and took up her old position behind the till, something caught Abby’s eye. In the wreck and dust and dirt of Flick the Bean, a single pristine coffee cup stood next to the coffee machine. Abby frowned and picked it up. Inside was a little stick, a thin piece of branch that looked as if it had been broken off of a tree.
“What the…?” Abby said.
She pulled the stick out and, on closer inspection, saw that the initials ‘W.B.’ had been carved into it.
“W.B.?” Abby said aloud. “W.B.? What kind of infuriating individual would leave a stick and a clue as arbitrary as ‘W.B.’?”
She turned the stick over in her hand and saw that there was something carved on the other side too.
Just add milk, human.
And with that, the answer clicked into place.
“W.B.… Witch Bitch!” Abby said excitedly.
Clutching the stick, she turned and ripped open the milk fridge, gagging at the released stench of gallons of milk gone bad. Holding her breath, she peered inside and saw one bottle that was less dirty and gross than the others. She extracted this bottle, closed the fridge door and turned back to the pristine mug. She dropped the stick back inside and then splashed a good glug of milk over it.
Nothing happened.
Abby’s eyebrows knitted together.
“Come on,” she said, but to no effect. Then she grabbed the stick and, not knowing what the hell else to do, stirred the milk with it.
The effect was immediate. The twig expanded in the blink of an eye, causing the mug to explode in a shower of pottery fragments. Abby fell back with a cry, her hand over her eyes. When she looked back there was a stereotypical witch’s broomstick lying on the counter. There was a label tied around the handle. It read, ‘Get on, hold tight and let the broomstick do the rest.’
It was a good thing that Abby had become pretty well versed in all things wacky, otherwise, she might have stopped to question this order. Instead, she grabbed the broomstick, squeezed her way back out of the shop and, standing in the empty alleyway, she swung her leg over the broom.
The next thing she knew she was rocketing into the air, leaving sorrow behind her as she blasted over Rotwood Harbor like a bullet from a gun.
***
After a stomach-clenching ride over the town, through a valley and across a wind-swept moor, Abby was finally deposited by the broom in the middle of a clearing that had been made in a small wood of black cherry trees.
As she came pelting into land, Abby was not able to spare much thought for what was taking place in the clearing, but as soon as the broomstick came to a sudden stop about a foot off the ground, flinging her to the soft turf as effectively as a bucking horse, she was able to take a look around.
The clearing was full of pointy black hats, and under those hats were witches. There must have been about forty of them, all standing around three large cauldrons which, judging by the beguiling scent wafting from them, were full of bubbling coffee.
Before Abby could think of anything pertinent to say, Radella emerged from the coven.
“Jeez, human,” she said, “you must finally be getting a little old-fashioned supernaturalness rubbing off on you. I was thinking I was going to be waiting around here for weeks before you figured that the horrible coffee shop you used to work in might be worth a visit.”
Abby smiled at the spiky young woman. “Nice to see you too, you witch bitch.”
Radella lifted a quizzical eyebrow. She was, Abby realized, annoyingly attractive, and the confidence she exuded only added to her sense of charismatic command. “Where’s the big oaf?” she asked. “I thought he’d be with you.”
“We, um, sort of fell out.”
Then Abby regaled Radella with a summary of everything that had happened to her since s
he’d set off across the lake in the underground cave.
Radella snorted. “So he dropped you in the sea because he found out that you’re the daughter of Vassago?”
“Basically, yeah.”
Radella snorted again. “Gods, why are men such bloody idiots most of the time?”
“That question is above my pay grade,” Abby said.
Radella put an arm around her and led her toward the coven.
“Radella?” Abby asked.
“Yeah.”
“What the hell happened to the S.B.A? I was there not too long ago, and everyone was gone. It was cleared out.”
“Well, darling,” Radella said in that supercilious tone that had so annoyed Abby until very recently, “you know that explosion that we heard the night you ran away across the lake?”
“I did not ru–”
“I’m just pulling your leg, darling,” Radella said in a placating voice. “But you do recall the big bang?”
“Of course.”
“Well, that was the sound of the caffeine reserves being wiped out. Afterward, a team of supernatural investigators took a look at the carnage and found Frederick’s DNA littered about the place. Naturally, the consensus from this evidence was that it was you that orchestrated the bombing, or got Frederick to do it for you.”
“Would you explain to me how that makes sense at all?”
“I can’t. It doesn’t. But that’s what mass panic and hysteria will do to normally sensible minds. If we could produce Frederick and make him confess…”
Abby rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’d be nice and clean and handy, wouldn’t it? There’s only the inconvenient problem of Frederick having been eaten by about twenty different demons.”
Radella shuddered. “Ugh. What a way to go.” She shook her head. “Spiridon, Miss Hightide and I are the only ones that I know for sure who think that you’re innocent. The rest, I’m not too sure.”
They had reached the edge of the circle of gathered witches.
“Well,” Abby said, “with the bombing and destruction of the Academy, combined with the S.B.A’s coffee fields having been annihilated, I’d say – if you’ll excuse me for getting all scientific on it – we’re fucked.”
“That’s the spirit,” said Radella sarcastically.
“I’m serious, Radella,” Abby said. “What chance do we have? The S.B.A. and the humans of Ravencharm will be enslaved, or slaughtered like cattle.”
“Maybe, darling. But only if we don’t do anything,” the green-skinned woman said.
“I told you, it’s hopeless to fight them.”
Radella scowled at her. “So what you’re saying is that you would rather just give up and lose or die definitely, than fight and lose or die maybe?”
Abby didn’t say anything.
“Come on, darling,” Radella said. “Screw your father, screw your sister and screw that drama-queen Drake, for that matter. You and I both know in our hearts that it’s far better to go out snarling and fighting on your feet than it is to bow your head and perish on your knees. That’s fucking basic bitch stuff, isn’t it?”
Abby laughed and gave Radella a one-armed hug. “I think you’ve hit the nail on the head there,” she said.
“It won’t be the only thing I’ve hit on the head by the time all this is over, darling, you mark my words,” Radella replied grimly.
At that moment another witch, riding like lightning on a broomstick, came whooshing into the glade. She dismounted with the agility of a leopard and hailed the entire coven.
“Sisters!” she cried. “Vassago and his demonic horde have attacked Ravencharm and are causing havoc in the streets. When I left they were heading toward the pet shelter and veterinary clinic – or the deli, as I heard a couple of them refer to it.”
“Word must’ve reached my dad that his goon squad got wiped out at the S.B.A,” Abby said to Radella. “He must be having kittens – for dinner, probably.”
Radella grimaced.
Abby punched her fist into the palm of her hand. “Goddamn it!” she said. “I’ve only known the asshole for about a day, and I already hate him. Where’s that broomstick?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, we need to get to Ravencharm. We need to stop them.”
“Uuum,” Radella said, “I’m glad that I managed to motivate you and everything, but I didn’t mean go charging in now. That’d be suicide, darling. I know you’re a human and everything, but that’s a ridiculous plan – even for you.”
“What do you suggest then?” Abby snapped.
“I suggest we wait. Miss Hightide has sent out agents and undercover Guardians to find dealers around Ravencharm where we might score some caffeinated beans. We have to wait.”
“I won’t wait,” she told the witch. “I won’t let another person – or small animal – die because of me.”
Abby’s gaze switched to one of the cauldrons that had been lifted from the fire and now stood cooling nearby.
Radella followed her gaze.
“That,” her one-time enemy said, “is not a good idea, darling. You’re not used to our witches’ brew and –”
Abby dunked her entire head into the cauldron, drowning out the end of Radella’s warning. She chugged great mouthfuls of the brew – which had definite chocolaty notes as well as an undeniable chili kick – with her eyes closed. After what amounted to about forty seconds of dedicated guzzling, she pulled her head out, flipped her sopping hair out of her eyes and said, “Whooo-eeee, that’s got some kick to it!” She clapped her hands and jumped up and down on the spot a couple of times. “Let’s go and kick some raven-fucking demon ass! Who’s with me?”
She was met with a collection of carefully blank stares – the sort of stares that the drunkest girl at a dinner party gets when she suggests what everyone needs to do is lighten up and get a game of strip poker going, even before the dessert has been served.
“Gods damn it!” Abby said, the caffeine refusing to let her be deterred by this less than enthusiastic response. “I thought I was surrounded by bad-ass witches, but it seems that what we have here is a coven of pussy bitches!”
Behind Abby, Radella slapped herself in the forehead at these words.
“Are you just going to sit around your cauldrons while the demons go into Ravencharm, round up the humans like a bunch of cattle and slaughter them? What have they ever done to you?”
A witch at the back stuck up her hand and said, “Humans burned my ancestors at the stake so…”
Abby considered this. “Okay, that’s fair enough, I guess. But do you think they’re going to stop once they’ve eaten and tortured all the humans in these parts? Nope. They’re going to come for you. And before you say that you guys can just fly away, I’ll remind you that these assholes have wings too.”
Radella stepped forward out of the coven and into the glare of the fires. “Nuts to it. I’m with you, Abby Hall!”
Abby looked around the coven.
“Is there no one else?” she roared.
There was a shuffling of feet, and then an unseen voice said, “Fuck that.”
Radella tossed Abby a broomstick.
“Ah well, darling,” she said. “I guess it’s just us two.”
Chapter 14
Abby’s blood felt like it was on fire and she could hear her heartbeat thundering as she and Radella shot toward Ravencharm on their brooms. Radella had spoken a few words over Abby’s broom before they had left, and Abby found that all she needed to do was ensure that she didn’t slip off the thing, as the broom simply matched the speed and direction of Radella’s.
The two companions zoomed low over the outskirts of the town, Radella sticking to the backstreets as they tried to avoid the demons. Luckily for them, the demons appeared to be in party mode and seemed incapable of going past anything without setting it alight or destroying it. This made it fairly easy for Radella to navigate around them. Eventually, Abby and Radella landed smoothly on top of one of the t
hree-story buildings on Ravencharm’s main street. They hid their broomsticks and, taking cover behind a large neon sign that was advertising Silky’s Light Licorice Lager, peered down into the street.
Chaos reigned.
Shopfronts had been torn open and their contents scattered across the road like eviscerated guts, vehicles were overturned, screams periodically split the night air and the roar and laughter of the demons echoed like the music of hell off of the buildings. In the main thoroughfare directly below where Abby and Radella peeked out, a bunch of demons were playing a game that involved booting a severed human head back and forth between them.
The thing with using a head for a soccer ball is that, with entities as powerful as demons doing the kicking, it quickly becomes a little… mushy. Abby watched in horrified disgust as one great brute of a demon gave the head-ball an almighty wallop and it burst like a grapefruit. There were roars of disappointment from the gang of demons and the demon responsible got a couple of clips around the back of the head. Then the entire group moved off, one of them casually throwing a motorbike through the roof of a bathroom supply store.
“Hmm,” Radella said thoughtfully, “I have to say that I am immediately regretting this decision. I don’t know why I let you talk me into this, human. We should get out of here as soon as possible.”
Abby gave her a look. “Radella, they’re cutting off people’s heads and using them as soccer balls!”
“Yes, I saw. That’s a hard thing not to notice. That’s precisely my point.”
Abby shook her head. “No,” she said, “this has to end.”
Abby led the way down the exterior staircase of the building, with Radella following unenthusiastically behind. They emerged out into the main street of Ravencharm and surveyed the carnage. As they looked out at the mess, a hugely fat demon walked out of a smoking hardware store, a squirming puppy clutched in its hand.
Abby felt the rage and caffeine bubbling in her guts, filling her with righteous anger that begged for release. She felt the palms of her hands tingling in anticipation.
Caffeinated Magic: Supernatural Barista Academy Page 19