by Sarah Black
“You have no idea.” His words hold more meaning to them, an entire conversation hidden between the lines.
“What are you, Valentino?”
“It’s good to see you’ve come back to our world.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s answer enough for now.” His lips twitch and I inhale his spicy scent. His close proximity is messing with my senses.
Because it feels good to be near him. “Good day, voodoo man.”
“Let me walk you out. I guarantee Aja didn’t stay any longer than she had to.” He offers me his arm like a true gentleman.
I slip my arm through his, purely to keep myself upright. “Who called Joe?” I slice a hand through the air. “Who called Aja?”
“Poppy.” Her name, so cold on his lips, gives me pause. There’s something there, but I’m not even sure I can ask more. Neither have been forthcoming with their current lives.
Mostly because of me and my actions. “She felt me?” But she didn’t come for me. A hollowness spreads inside me. Are we that far gone? I rub my chest where a pinching ache begins.
“She did.”
“But she didn’t come for me?” I had to make sure he was correct in this, because it just didn’t feel right.
“No.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat and focus on the hallway before me. Ignoring my need to cry though it builds inside me and rumbles like a fierce storm. It just feels wrong.
“Don’t blame her.” Valentino squeezes my hand softly. “She was busy.”
“Doing what? Playing her nighttime game?” I don’t even know who my twin is anymore and that stings more than anything.
“Give her time.”
“I don’t even know you. I had you pegged as a spoiled rich boy exhibitionist.” But now I can see it for the mask that it is.
He pauses in his steps, turning to me with that devil may care expression that every part of me enjoys. Far too much. My breath whooshes out of my lungs as he stares down at me with keen interest. Partial lust and partial curiosity.
“What are you, Penny Piór?” Which means he doesn’t know what Poppy is either.
“I’ll tell if you tell.” He steps forward, backing me into a wall as every part of me turns into a raging flame.
“Not quite, but I’ll figure out your secrets.”
“And I’ll figure out yours.” My words sound dark and smoky to my ears. His body presses against mine in full contact, stealing my breath with a harsh gasp. His hands smack the wall, boxing me in.
“I look forward to it.”
“You still didn’t answer me.”
“I didn’t realize that was a question.”
Flames color my cheeks as he leans down to whisper in my ears. “One day you will figure that out.” Figure what out? He presses into me, his hands against the wall. “But not today.”
Too quickly he moves away, leaving me breathless and confused. What the hell just happened?
I blink slowly, keeping myself steady, he isn’t helping my concussion, not at all. “Where are we?” I squeak.
“My home.” He pauses on the word as though it holds a secret.
“It looks like a hotel.” Long, luxurious red runners line the hall with carved woodwork around the sporadic doorways. Sconces, with old world design, sit between the doors, their candles flickering as we pass.
“Not quite.”
“Hm, are you being evasive, Valentino?”
“It’s been a long time since anyone other than those of our house were allowed beyond the front doors.” A slip of truth but not the whole truth.
I wish I could remember more of my childhood. But there was only ever Poppy and me with the hint that the world was not quite as it seemed. There was always the feeling that the shadows that lurked in the dark were real. That boogeymen and fairy tales may be real. But no one spoke of it, and surely not our parents.
Yet somehow, someway, Poppy caught on while I... did not.
The hall ends with a set of doors, Valentino pushes through, the wood decorated with carvings of another world, another time. Beyond, stairs rise to two more levels while they also go down another two.
“No elevator?”
“They are unsavory.”
I grip the railing as dizziness washes over me when looking down, the carpet playing with my eyesight. The building isn’t just vast, but I can feel it as though it breathes with life. I speak, hoping to distract myself from the view. “Why is it so quiet?”
“The walls are soundproof for privacy and I told everyone to leave.”
Just who is this man before me? His palm sears my skin where it rests on my lower back. His inky hair, though mussed, is still perfectly coiffed to lay where he chooses, the sides recently buzzed. His eyes are old and beautiful, not missing anything. How could I have been such a fool that night to believe he wouldn’t hear me?
How could I have fooled myself for a decade into believing monsters weren’t real? Ones who have found me once again. A silent shudder spreads throughout my body, and again Valentino’s senses catch that movement, his eyes studying me as his feet step steadily on the next rung.
“What is it?” So soft, not at all like the man I’d pegged him for.
“Nothing, truly.” Just me being hunted for no apparent reason, just as our parents were hunted.
He doesn’t buy my answer, but it’s the only one he’s going to get. I move forward, finally stepping on solid ground that isn’t going up nor down. Sets of doors sit on two sides both in that ornate woodwork.
“Follow me.” He pushes through one that leads into a short hallway. The scent of candles and incense tickles my nose. A door to the outside sits in the middle with a solid steel bar across it.
Again, wood protected by steel. An anomaly that doesn’t make much sense. My fingers run over the carvings of forests and creatures on the prowl. “Why wood?”
“Now, Penny, if I told you that then you’d have no reason to come back.”
Despite myself, a smile tugs at my lips. I’ll let him think what he wants.
He pushes the steel beam upwards, opening the door to the gleaming sunlight beyond. A wave of dry heat slams into me, burning my throat and lungs.
“I will see you tonight, Penny.”
I pause at the door, my eyes landing on Aja at the curb sitting far away from the entrance. The sidewalk here stretches a good ten feet. Stepping onto the sidewalk, I feel the direct sun pounding on me from above. The heat against my shirt is almost unbearable.
Unable to help myself, I glance back, but the door is sealed shut and Valentino is gone from sight. But I can feel him there, his blood singing to me of dark secrets and darker power.
A few more steps and I get my first glance at the building we were in. An old Catholic church looms over me from the sidewalk. A single spire reaches for the clouds from the corner of the street. I didn’t even walk out from the church itself, but the old schoolhouse to its right.
“Impossible.”
“Oh, you better believe it.” Aja startles me, staring up at the church with pinched features, her approval clearly low. “If you ask me, he’s playing with fire converting that place.”
“It isn’t done?” There are no outward signs that it isn’t finished. But the scent of burning candles in the hall makes sense now.
“Oh, he done finished it a while ago.”
“How long, Aja?” That would give me a sense of what he is.
“Long enough.”
“You’re being evasive.”
“For someone who shook her head in denial at me, you’re curious about Valentino.” She tsks her tongue, tugging me away from the church. We aren’t far from home. “I need to get you to Joe, he’s been blowing up my phone.”
I dig in my heels. “I need to shower and wash the vomit from my mouth.” Her lips purse as though she’s debating on arguing with me. “Then you and I are going to have a long talk about everything.”
She drops my h
and, opting for silence. Her steps clack against the ground and her car door squeals as she tugs it open. The little red sedan gleams in the sunlight. Her eyes dart to mine over the top, squinting at me before she growls and folds herself into the little car.
I glance once more back at the church, feeling nostalgic as memories of a church just like this drift through my mind’s eye. Of my mother walking me to school in my uniform. Of nuns who taught with a heavy hand.
I can’t deny that leaving the place doesn’t lift a heavy weight off my shoulders, because it does. I just can’t decide if it’s the man or the power in that building.
11
As soon as my butt hits the seat, Aja squeals away from the renovated church. The tension immediately leaves my shoulders. “If you know what’s good for you then you will leave that man alone.”
“What happened to jumping him?” I shake my head. “Your advice is leaving me with whiplash.”
“No, that’s my driving.” She flicks on the radio. The sounds of the rainforest envelop me. Not at all what I was expecting.
I hate it and flick the radio off. “Talk.”
“You know better than to mess with my radio, Penny.” Her fingers tap the steering wheel as she turns in the opposite direction of my apartment.
“Aja.” I rub my forehead, I should have known she would listen to Joe before me. She never intended to take me home.
“Hush, I’m bringing you to my place to shower because you’re rank.” Relief settles my nerves and muscles. A shower is exactly what I need. Hot water, soap, and a razor. I don’t think Aja will hand me bleach to wash away the feeling of being violated.
I need to wash off every single inch of those men from last night, my body burns with it. Then I need to do it a few more times. An ache in my temple causes me to squint against the sunlight. My fingers graze the lump jutting from my cheek.
“It ain’t pretty, girl.” Her car idles at a stop sign, the engine sounding like it may die at any moment. “Mama isn’t going to be happy.”
“Aja, what are you?” Because being this close to her makes my blood sing with the truth of her own secret. Inhaling deeply, the scent of rain coats my senses like little droplets.
“Is that an answer you’re ready for?”
“I’m stuck playing catch up in a world I never should have left. That truth is apparent in the way Poppy looked at me yesterday.” I pause, glancing at her as she watches me, probably waiting for a meltdown. “But what I don’t get and what really bothers me is why didn’t any of you say anything?”
She grunts, pulling away from the stop sign and heading toward her home. “Do you know what my mama gave up raising you two?”
“How is that relevant?” Especially when my own parents died.
“Oh, it’s relevant. You owe her, girl.” She wiggles in her seat, throwing off how uncomfortable this conversation is making her. “And I can’t say a thing. Because that’s how our world works. If you don’t know who you are then you can’t know who we are.”
The ache in my head intensifies as her words confuse me more than help me. “Who are you, Aja?”
“What does your magic say?”
Silence stretches between us as she drives down a quiet road, or as quiet as can be in a city. She swings into a spot with ease, her skills of parallel parking superior to my own.
“What did your mom give up?” I deflect, staring at the house before me. Unlike most townhouses in the city, this one has a white picket fence, sunroom, and three stories of history. Sitting here with Aja, I can smell the memories. I promised I’d be here tomorrow to celebrate Christian’s birthday. Yet here I am today, staring up at a house that became my home after a tragedy, and I sit frozen. Unsure if I even deserve to walk through those doors.
“You don’t get a free pass just because you refuse to use your magic.” Her tone holds an edge of steel that won’t be broken. No matter how much I wish she’d divulge the information.
My eyes slide closed as tears well in my eyes because she doesn’t understand what she’s asking of me. When Poppy and I were young, it was all fun and games. The two of us learning and understanding the world around us at such a young age. Then our parents died and I learned what it meant to be a witch. What my powers were. And how dangerous they could be.
It isn’t that I don’t want to know or use them, but the fear almost overrules my sense of natural magic. Magic that whispers to me of how powerful I could be if I only opened myself up. In a sense, I always knew it was there as I lived a lie amongst humans. Trying to blend in and be one.
But I’ll never be human.
“You don’t know what you’re asking of me.” My voice warbles and wobbles as the crushing weight of my magic weighs on me. My eyes flicker open and stare at her in silent demand for understanding.
“Your sister told me the same thing. But she knew what I was the moment you two stepped through those doors.” She swings a thumb over at the front door.
“Aja.” My chest pinches. If I open myself up, then the danger becomes real. Not that it isn’t already, but admitting to that out loud holds a different kind of reality than the imaginary situations I create in my head.
“My hands are tied.” Her eyes hold a bit of sorrow to them, her truth evident in every crease of her face.
“Okay.” I close my eyes, drawing in even breaths as I focus on Aja. “Don’t-don’t let me get weird, okay?”
“Weird how?”
“Just don’t let me get weird.” I blow out a breath and hope like hell I can just tap into that well of power and shove it right back down. But that isn’t how it works. I open up and it rushes through me, shaking my body as the scent of blood swirls in my senses. Aja isn’t bleeding, but she’s close, so close, and I can hear her heart thumping in her chest. The whoosh of valves and arteries. The gentle flow of veins. With one small demand I can control it all.
I shut it down. Pushing it deep inside me and closing it inside a box. My eyes burst open as her blood sings of its reality. Of the secret she hides deep within her.
“Shifter.” It’s evident now. Those little pointy canines. Her love of all things feline. Her grace that she exhibits with a silent command. “Cat.”
“See? I knew you had it in you.” She smacks my arm and my eyes fly open to see her smug expression. “You, my friend, are a witch, but I don’t know what kind.”
“There are other kinds of witches?” I twist in my seat, curious now to dive into a world that feels right.
“You should talk to your sister about that.”
“I seem to be getting a lot of that. Only she isn’t happy with me right now.” I shake thoughts of my sister away. “Tell me about your pack.”
“We don’t have a pack, sweetheart.” Sadness washes over her. “That’s what we gave up.”
“You gave up a pack for Poppy and me?” That, of all revelations, pierces my heart with a dagger, leaving me breathless. I don’t understand what a pack means, but I’m also no fool. Prince and I watched countless hours of Animal Planet, so I know for certain that would leave them vulnerable.
“Mama gave up a lot. Look, her story is hers alone, but you needing protection was the final decision. We are panthers, mostly solitary, but with the supernatural world in turmoil we need pack protection. It isn’t pretty and it sure as hell ain’t kind. Mama is strong, a queen amongst our people. But they shunned us when she took you in. Being a friend to another species is one thing, but raising them? Let alone allowing the pack to think you were human?” She shakes her head. “It’s unheard of, Penny. But Mama knew you girls were special.”
“Blood,” I whisper. Needing her to understand who and what she was protecting all these years. They took a huge risk on us. I feel like I will forever be in their debt.
Her eyes widen, the whites shining with an unearthly glow. “What did you say?” she whispers very carefully.
I swallow, looking past her to the homes across the street. To the tree that was always home base an
d our wall while roller skating. A tree that grew so tall it became a beacon in the darkest of nights while fireflies flooded the branches on hot summer nights.
“Blood sings to me.”
Her hand slaps across my mouth, her chest heaving. Aja’s wild eyes dart outside the window to the quiet street beyond. “Don’t say anything more. Get out of the car and walk into the house.” She lets go, moving quickly with a calm danger radiating over her.
I follow cautiously, alarm zinging through my body as fear creeps up. Her key jangles as it slides into the lock, her head whipping from side to side before she pushes it open to enter the sunroom.
All around us plants explode, overtaking every inch of space. Tall potted trees give the small room a jungle feel, one that now makes perfect sense. Mama loves these plants, and now I truly understand why. Living so far from a place to roam to run in safety and without worry mustn’t be easy. Again, a pang of guilt pierces me.
But I can’t think too long about the past or even the lengthy talks I’ve had with Aja in that very room. The woman in question grips my wrist, tugging me through the dim and silent living room, the dining room, and to the kitchen where she pushes open the door to the basement.
We thud down the steps into the dank space they never truly ended up getting renovated. Deeper we go into one room piled high with boxes and to another room until we stand before a set of steel doors. Ones I’ve never seen before. A keypad rests to the side as Aja punches in numbers too quickly for me to read. Then I’m being shoved into what looks like a safe room.
“Wait.” That one word hangs in the air between us until the door shuts and locks. Her chest rises and falls in rapid succession. Her leopard print top and black pants scrunch with each movement. “Sit.”
Right, I’m in a safe room, in Aja’s basement. Turning around, I realize it’s nothing much. Holding only a couch and a fridge and a desk with a simple laptop. My legs shake a bit as I flop on the sofa, my heart pounding in my chest as she follows me.
“We need to clear one thing up before we speak. I want you to promise me that you will never ever repeat that outside this room or, hell, ever again. Do you understand me?” Her hand snaps out, gripping my arm as she shakes me slightly. Tears bead and streak down her face, carrying mascara with it.