by Sarah Black
All I wanted was a job.
“I couldn’t, Pen. You were lost.” Her shoulders relax as she focuses on me once again. Her makeup smudged and dirty beneath her lashes. “Grief, it affects all of us differently. There isn’t one right answer. We deal with it in our own time. We were always two opposite halves. You dealt with their death, and me? I didn’t. I pretend their death never happened, and I guess a part of me is mad at you for having the ability to grieve them.”
She dashes away rogue tears. I don’t move, afraid this moment will slip by. “It wasn’t very useful anyway.”
“Did you know, somewhere inside your stubborn mind, did you know?” I know what she’s asking. If I knew I wasn’t quite normal.
“I suppose that’s why all of this doesn’t come as a surprise. I dream of our childhood. Of eyes watching us from the woods. I know we made a promise to never talk about it. Of the magic that lives inside. I assumed we were still on that path, I never once thought you veered from it.” Now it’s my turn for emotion to steal my breath and my words. “Do you know what we are, Pop?”
Her lip trembles just a bit, the pink skin wobbling. “I know what we are. I know we made a promise to hide, to keep track of the supernatural world but not be a part of it. But I couldn’t live that way. I can’t live that way.”
My head slams against the wall, all I have to do is ask. I know she’d tell me now. She wouldn’t hold back, and if she did it would be for my own damn good.
I ask another question, this one the confirmation I need. I’ve never seen Aja so torn up, pacing and chugging alcohol to numb the truth. Because at this point, I know the truth can get us killed.
I reach for a pen and paper, my dream journal I keep tucked under my futon, and scribble the words that Aja made me swear to never say aloud again. I love my sister, but I’m no fool to think we are in a safe place. That illusion broke last night.
Blood witch.
Her eyes well once more as she slaps them away, stealing my pen.
Spirit witch.
Everything clicks into place. Her speaking in corners and always watching, observing. In some morbid world this all makes sense. We are two halves of a whole. What is needed to create and to destroy.
Blood and Spirit.
Long moments pass, my head resting against the wall to my back as meaning swirls like conspiracy theories in my head.
“Aja said our kind were hunted and extinguished. But what does it mean?” I want to know if I am to be feared. I want to know what else exists, but most of all I want to know if they are a threat to us.
“It means we need to be careful.” Her eyes glance around my apartment. I know what she sees—the lack of safety. But my sister, she holds her secrets too. She reaches into her back pocket, pulling out a little device with a button. In all honesty, it looks exactly like one of those fidget cubes to keep hands busy, and maybe that’s the genius in the design. She presses the button as a blanket of electricity ghosts over me. “That should help.”
My hands rub my arms as though I can brush away the feeling. “What the hell is that?”
“It will allow us to speak freely, but we don’t have much time. The sun is setting and the longer we use it the more we risk it being noticed. Of us being noticed.” She leans in, her eyes flicking to the window above my head. “You aren’t safe here, but first, of everything I have to tell you, know that you and I are not supposed to exist.”
“Poppy—” I groan.
She cuts me off. “This is vital. You wrote it down because Aja told you never to say the words aloud, correct?” She waits for me to nod my head. “Good. Never say it aloud, never tell someone what you are, and if they ask, tell them you are simply a water witch. You should have some ability to manipulate water, as I have some ability to manipulate air.”
“Oh.” I actually can’t wait to test that out.
“As far as I’ve been able to surmise, we were hunted long ago. Killed in fear or used to destroy kingdoms. Then killed once they were finished with us. No one can ever know. Promise me, promise me, Penny, that you won’t tell a soul. Promise me on their ashes.” Her hand grips the locket around my neck.
“I promise.” If I was unsure in any way, the fear in her eyes seals it for me.
“Second, the supernatural world is very real, and it exists in every corner of this city and beyond. I’ve had a lot of growing up to do in ten years. And before you feel bad about it, don’t. Remember you got to grieve and I... well, I killed things. When you suppressed your magical ability, it suppressed mine. When you acknowledged it last night and woke it up, so did mine. Someone knows we exist, Pen.” She grips my hands, squeezing them. “When you are ready to admit it, look into their eyes, Penny, and realize the truth.” Her own icy blues flick to the stack of photos.
“I don’t know if I can, that means... It means.”
“I know. But I can’t find anything else about them. About our real parents.” There it is, the truth bomb I was never ready to acknowledge. We were just too different. “I do know that Mom was pregnant with twins. But I don’t think they survived.” That last sentence is a mere whisper in the fading light of day.
“What does that mean? Where did they go?”
“Not the right questions, Pen, because whatever their decision, they loved us. That will never change. But know that witches like us never survive past puberty. Not in any of the supernatural scrolls I’ve hunted down.”
“I won’t run.”
The smile that stretches across her face is pure rogue with a dash of impish wildness. “I would surely hope not. You’ve a lot to catch up on, and I have one more favor to ask of you.”
“Why not? Does it come with drinks?”
“Yes, if you’re lucky.” She squeezes my hands once more before letting go. “Go to Valentino tonight. He’s expecting you at Genesis.”
“Really, Poppy?”
“We all have a part to play, and it’s time you wear your mask or learn how to wear one because, Penny, your mourning has left you in a very dangerous predicament. You need time that you won’t gain here. Time Valentino can provide.”
“If it wasn’t for the look in your eyes, I’d tell you that you were full of shit.” I rub my arms, somehow chilly in this stifling room. “Why?”
“Because Valentino runs this city.”
“What is he?” I slash the air. “Wait, is that why you work there and bring me in weekly? Our unspoken spying into a world we were only getting glimpses of?”
“Like I said, we all have a part to play, and it’s time you play yours, Pen. I can’t keep you safe.” I see the strain it gives her to even admit that.
For that alone, I promise, “Fine. I’ll go to him, but this conversation is far from over.”
“Oh, big sis, we’ve only just begun. You and I?” She kisses my cheek before pulling away, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “You and I are going to not only get our revenge, but rule this city.”
13
My stomach twists as I step out of my apartment, this time making sure each window and door is locked. I chose something between casual and not casual—dark washed jeans and a simple, black silk tank with black flats—hoping to appeal to Valentino, since apparently he’s currently the only one who can help me. Between by breasts sits the locket, which is cool against my warm skin. Preparing for the worst, I packed an overnight bag and set Prince’s food dish to automatic, so that every few hours a small handful of food will disperse into his bowl. Any more than that and I’ll have to clean up puke all over the apartment.
I prefer to do as little as possible when it comes to cleaning.
After Poppy left, I spent some time going through the box of pictures. Memorizing the faces of the couple we called Mom and Dad. The mystery there itches at my spine, demanding I solve it.
Safety first. We can’t solve who killed our parents without making sure we live. And to do that, I have to lie to everyone I love and dive into unknown territory with a man I know isn
’t human, but what he is, is yet to be defined.
Supernatural law. Poppy brushed on that in small doses. Once magic flares in a being it goes into a registry. But who enforces that registry, I don’t know. Though I suspect Joe may work with them. I have a lot to learn in a very short amount of time.
Poppy must have been texting Valentino, assuring him I’d be there by sundown. As it is, I left earlier than anticipated. The sun sets later this time of year, gifting me with those precious moments before all the creatures of nightmares come out to play. I’m still unsure if I’m one of those creatures.
I sink onto the rusty and peeling bench to wait for the bus, the sun dipping in the sky enough to grant me a reprieve from its hot rays. Still, sweat clings to me from my short walk. I pat my phone in the side of my duffle, feeling the security having it on me gives. My sister is the one with the car, and I’m regretting the decision to not spring for one. I’d have to get my license first. I’d opted to use public transport, and only because finding parking in even in the outskirts of Philly can be a struggle. Especially at night.
But sitting here, I feel more vulnerable than I have in a long time. It twists my stomach and burns like acid in my veins. Anyone walking by could potentially be my attacker from last night. The hidden world around me is slowly exposing itself to my eyes and my senses.
I should have asked her for a ride. If everything is so worrisome regarding our safety, you’d think we’d prefer to stay together. But no, that could potentially look more suspicious to anyone who’s been studying us.
My paranoia rises, and with each breath a new suspicion appears in my mind’s eye.
I swallow back that fear, darting my gaze toward the purr of the bus as it rolls up to the sidewalk. The red and blue chevron of the Septa is a welcoming relief. My muscles clench as I stand, eyeing all around me and noting the lack of people waiting for a bus ride downtown.
Usually on a Saturday night, there is a group of people waiting to hop on, granted it’s still early in the night. The sun has yet to set, however the city feels different. Though I cannot determine if that revolves around internal or external conflict.
I step onto the bus, moving down to the side doors and an empty plastic seat. I hug my duffle close, feeling my phone vibrate within. There are but a few people here and there. An old man at the front, his cane tapping the floor of the bus as his eyes scan his surroundings. A younger man with a backpack and earbuds in, his head bobbing to a beat only he can here. Then there is the other man sitting behind me, his eyes closed with a bandana wrapped around his head. Arms resting on a chest that slowly rises and falls, his skin inked from fingertips all the way under his sleeves.
An hour. I can do this. I can sit on a bus for an hour.
My stomach flutters with nerves.
Maybe I can’t. Last night flashes through my mind and my dash through the neighborhood. Weaving in and out of yards until I couldn’t. And not once could I see their eyes. Coated in shadows.
It took a heavy load of makeup to cover the bruises on my face. When I finally looked at it, the purple was just beginning to deepen, the skin tender and tight. It would take weeks to heal. Until then, concealer would be my best friend.
The bus squeals to a stop, my pulse hiking as the doors swing open. Sweat breaks out on my forehead.
I can’t live in this fear.
A familiar blonde steps onto the bus, the driver peeling away before she has the chance to sit. Her blue eyes settle on me as interest piques in them. Still decked out in head to toe leather and a shimmer of something strapped across her back, she weaves closer to me.
“This seat taken?” Her elegant hand gestures to the seat across from me, the plastic seats facing each other. She doesn’t wait for an answer, but slides down, adjusting herself to sit a few inches forward.
I glance at her back again, looking for what I think is there but it remains unseen.
“Penny, right?”
“Hilly.” I know her name is Hilda, but why can’t I just get through my hour long ride alone, with my anxiety for the ride of course.
Her smile pinches just slightly before it drops away. “Hilda,” she corrects, her eyes sliding over me. I grip my phone through my duffle, knowing if I need to I can press the power button a few times, eliciting an emergency call. “Relax, I’m not going to hurt you.” She chuckles, but it’s dry and strained.
Fake.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s been one hell of a day and I don’t trust you.”
“Fair enough.” Her blonde ponytail swings as she juts her chin at my bag. “Heading out of town?”
I cant my head to the side, I’m obviously going somewhere. “Work,” I lie.
She hums to herself before shaking it off. “Look, maybe we got off on the wrong foot meeting at the bar yesterday.” She reaches out with her hand. Do people still shake hands? It means I’d have to let go of my phone. “I won’t bite.” Her smile is all white teeth and perhaps lies.
I can’t tell what she is, but I shake her cool, dainty hand quickly before pulling back. Her blood emitting a tone I haven’t heard yet. If I can feel her, she can feel me.
“So, it’s true then?”
“What’s true?” The bus pulls away from another stop, letting on a few more people. A group of guys looking to head downtown for a night out. I swallow back my panic at imagining them in shadows.
“That you and your sister are back in the fold.” It’s a statement spoken without a hint of hesitation, though others can clearly hear us. I also want to know how everyone knew we were actually witches. Though that isn’t the important secret, it’s what kind that defines us. “Don’t worry, norms only hear what they want to.”
“Norms?”
“Non-magic user.”
“Right.” I refuse to agree with her, because I get the feeling that word is a slang term, and most would take offense to it.
“So that means you and your sister are back in the fold?”
“I don’t know what it means to be in the fold, but to be honest we are just trying to get by right now.” Or rather stay alive.
She reaches into her pocket, pulling out a white card with silver etching. “If you want a coven, we’d be happy to have you and your sister. I think the two of you would make a great addition.”
The card may as well have been a hundred pounds as opposed to it few grams. I do my best to make a show of looking at it, the lines blurring. “Thanks,” I mutter to her, throwing as much appreciation as I can into that one word. I’m not sure a coven is where we should even be.
“Witches are stronger together. Alone they fall.” She stands, heading for the side door as the bus stops. She doesn’t look back once as she climbs down and fades into the crowd.
I can’t seem to brush away the feeling that she left me with a warning instead of an invite. I rub my forehead, feeling a dull pressure begin to build there as my phone vibrates once more.
Giving up, I pull the darn thing out, glancing at the text from an unknown number.
Unknown: Let me know when you leave.
Unknown: Where are you?
Snorting, I send a quick message back, assuming Poppy gave Valentino my number. Or he used some resource and obtained it illegally.
Me: I hope you’re wearing clothing this time.
Valentino: Do you often breach areas that are off limits?
Valentino: Please say yes.
Me: My curiosity gets the best of me some days.
Valentino: Never lose that curiosity, kitten.
Me: Even when it leads me down dark stairwells toward naked men?
Valentino: Is that all it would take to get you beneath me?
Nope. I’m done here. I press the power button, closing the screen but not shutting down the phone. Heat rushes to my face and I glance around as though everyone on the bus can read my thoughts or miraculously see my screen. His response doesn’t even make sense, unless he was trying to get under my skin.
&n
bsp; I glance up, my stop getting closer, maybe only another ten minutes. Clutching my phone to my chest, I peek out the window as I try to dismiss Hilda’s odd offer and Valentino’s even weirder response.
My shoulder blades begin to itch, spreading to my neck to sink inside my skull. I close my eyes, the feeling one I’m familiar with. I blow out a breath, opening them and not bothering to hide my eyes as I look around the bus. The old man is gone, as is the one who was listening to music. The sleepy one in the back moved up and keeps giving the rowdy group of guys dirty looks. Probably for waking him up too early.
But not one of them are looking at me. Not even the quiet bookworm across from me, her dark-rimmed glasses pushed up her nose as she devours a book. My hand glides over to the baton tucked away in my bag. I shouldn’t have it and could essentially be charge with having a police weapon, but it treated me well last night and I’m not about to let it go just yet.
Yet something inside me is telling me I’m no longer safe. One of these fools must be out to get me. I just hope it isn’t my paranoia speaking.
Giving up, I stand, choosing to get off a few stops early and walk the rest of the distance. I still have a half hour before sundown. Deciding to play it safe, I shoot a text off to Valentino.
Me: Feeling paranoid, getting off two stops early to walk the rest of the way.
Not even a moment later he’s firing back.
Valentino: Get back on the bus, Penny.
My feet are already on the cooling sidewalk. The bus pulling away with a billowing cloud of diesel exhaust.
Me: Too late. Meet me.
I share my location for some reason, taking it to heart that Aja and Poppy believe that he can keep me safe. I just hope Poppy can keep herself safe. Adrenaline rushes through me. If she thinks Valentino is my safety net, then he should be hers as well. But that’s an argument for another day.
Tucking my phone back in my duffle, I hike the bag up my shoulders and turn toward the club. My eyes catch the bus as it drifts by, once more blowing exhaust in a dark cloud that hovers before dissipating into the twilight.