Authors: Camilla Chafer
“Ah.”
He swivelled on his heels and looked up at me, a mischievous look in his eyes. “Are you going to watch me all day or are you going to make coffee?”
“Make coffee, I guess.”
“How many mugs you got?”
“Um, four, but I’ll make a flask if you’re that thirsty.”
“It’s not for me, it’s for them.” Gage thumbed a hand over his shoulder and I looked up just as a truck turned into my driveway. Four big men jumped out and I recognised them all from the poker night, even if I could only remember two by name. One was Annalise’s Beau, the other a small swarthy man named Joe. I waved at them as Gage added, “They’re going to get thirsty too.”
“I can’t believe you’d all do this for me.”
“If it makes you feel better, Beau is helping out because he thinks it will help him get into Annalise’s pants faster.” Gage said that low so Beau, who was pulling paint tins out of the truck bed couldn’t hear him.
“Will it?” I whispered back conspiratorially.
He grinned. “Absolutely. She’s loved him since junior high, not that she’s going to tell him that and I’ve never seen her happier than when he came back to Wilding.”
I mimed zipping my mouth. Then I unzipped it to say. “Just let me know what I owe you.”
“You can always cook for me in return.”
I looked at the tins and the brushes Gage’s friends were piling on the porch.
“I’d be cooking all month. You might as well move in.”
“If you insist.” He winked at me so that I knew he was joking. At least I thought he was but he turned away before I could give him a retort. “Coffee when you’re ready,” he said to the wall.
“Coming up, but one of you will have to share a mug.” I stomped inside the house, wondering when Annalise was about to show up. When I caught sight of the coverlet, I wondered who else was going to be my guest soon too.
I made coffee for them all and took out the mugs with bowls of sugar and creamers and a big pack of cookies, leaving them all on a tray on the porch. Inside I was plotting an exciting afternoon of finishing my laundry – which now included stripping my bed – and brainstorming job options or whether to take a correspondence course. So far I had drawn a blank on who would employ someone with limited qualifications, a lot of experience and without leaving a big paper trail. I was careful with money but it wasn’t going to last forever and eventually I’d have to tap into my funds and that would probably draw attention to me just as if I had a red flashing beacon right over my head. But I couldn’t sit around and do nothing. It just wasn’t in my nature, not that I was entirely sure what my nature was any more.
I pulled out my map and the crystal, half-heartedly hanging it in the centre and set it in motion with a flick of my hand. It wheeled once, twice, then with a sharp tug it lurched down. I gazed at it for a moment then put my thumb on the spot it had landed. Tulsa. Huh? I stared at the spot marking Oklahoma’s second biggest city for a long minute before I picked up the crystal again and flicked it into motion. This time it spun and spun before hanging limply by its ribbon in the centre of the map. No lurch, nothing. I tried again and again.
After a frustrating hour where the crystal didn’t give me any indication that its first try had been anything but a fluke, I pulled on my running clothes and went outside. Gage and his friends had sanded a good portion of the flaking paint off and there was some discussion about treatments and paint and the weather that sailed right over my head. He broke off when he saw me and walked over, leaving the debate to continue without him.
“I’m going for a run,” I announced in case he couldn’t guess. My head had started to clear but I hoped the exercise would give me a boost.
“You run often?”
“Now and again.”
“Stick to the road,” Gage said, his firmness surprising me.
“I will. Cross country isn’t my thing.”
Gage just nodded at me and went back to whatever he was doing. I jogged off the porch and didn’t look back to see if he was checking out my butt. I could feel his eyes on me.
I ran as far as I could, until my lungs heaved and I felt my legs going weak. I was in poor shape all right and it was all I could do to stand there in the road, swinging my arms in circles as I paused to catch my breath. I could feel my leg muscles tighten. I hadn’t stretched properly before setting off and I was risking doing myself an injury, but I needed to be out here in the open where I could stare into the far reaches of the mid-morning sky. I needed to force my body to work, to feel connected to my senses. I could feel magic ripple through me like it was waking up. I’d dulled it for so long, fought to hold it at bay but now it felt like pure joy to let it surge through me. When I held my hands up I found them bathed in a soft glow like they had their own back light but with a quick shake it was gone.
Turning back I pulled a face. I’d run too far, almost to where the tree line ended and broke into fields. Hearing a twig break somewhere off to my left, I froze and looked about me then hearing nothing I started the slow walk back. After a few minutes I stopped and crouched by the side of the road, my fingers reaching for the small indents I could see, puzzling at the clear imprint of a large paw in the mud. I stayed in my crouch, looking past the shrubs. The print looked fresh, definitely made within the last day or two, but if there was a wild animal out here, it seemed to be long gone. I got up and walked on, moving into the centre of the road.
By the time my house was in sight, I started up a slow jog, not wanting to embarrass myself by being a heaving, panting, sweaty mess. Hey, maybe that would put Gage off. I smirked to myself.
Gage was stood on the driveway, almost like he was waiting for me, and fell into step beside me as I slowed to a walk.
“Enjoy your run?”
“I might die,” I admitted.
“You run every day?”
“I try to.”
“Same time?”
I shrugged. “Not really. Just when I feel like it.”
“It’s not safe at dark, so don’t run at night.”
I stopped. “Why?”
“Animals. We’re isolated out here, so... what if you twisted your foot, or something?”
I thought about the strange print I’d found. “Oh, right. I guess. Well, thanks. And thanks again for this.” I waved a hand at the house. I opened my mouth to ask him about the print but he was already walking away.
“No problem,” I heard him say.
I stumbled into my house, my heart still pounding from the run, but at least my head was clear again. I was pushing myself too much for someone so under exercised. I’d have to take it easier in future, or risk pulling a muscle. I froze a few steps into my living room. Just as I had time to think something wasn’t right in my house, I felt the familiar feel of magic drift towards me. Out of the air, Chyler materialised. I would have to do something about the wards, I thought as she took on form, it wouldn’t do to just have witches pop up out of nowhere in my house.
“Hi, Stella,” she said brightly.
“Chyler, hi. Is everything okay?”
“I wanted to know if you’d found anything out. From the council, or from... are there any other witches around here?” She studied me for a moment. She was wearing the same outfit as yesterday but her hair was pulled into a low ponytail and didn’t look like it had been brushed properly.
“No, there aren’t any other witches around here. That I know of anyway.”
“Oh. Too bad.” Chyler’s tone wasn’t exactly sincere.
I gestured at her to follow me into the kitchen where I poured myself a big glass of water and glugged it down before offering her a drink. She shook her head, so I knocked back another glass and then leant against the counter, tugging at the zip of my sweat jacket.
“So no one’s come looking for me?” Chyler swept a finger across my counters and then checked it, like she was checking to see if cleanliness was a top priority in my house. I hoped she was satisfied at my super clean kitchen, elbow grease powered by boredom.
“No one, yet,” I said, adding a little caveat.
“Oh. Good.”
“I guess. Why don’t you sit down and tell me more about what’s happening?”
Chyler wobbled over to a chair like a baby gazelle taking its first steps and I frowned at her.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine, thank you. So, I don’t really remember much. I was just practising some spells and bam! Something flies out of nowhere and hits me. I think something backfired.”
“And that’s why the council came?” I couldn’t see the witches’ council bothering about something like a spell backfiring. Unless it was something really hideous.
“Yes!” Chyler exclaimed. “They just turned up and they were really mad and they wanted to take me somewhere, and I was scared so I just grabbed the book.”
“Did they say where they wanted to take you?” I asked, trying to recall the details of the vision I’d had when I touched her. Something smelled off.
Chyler shook her head. “They were really scary, Stella and I was frightened so I didn’t stay and ask.” She shivered and clasped her hands in her lap, her head bowed.
“What spells were you practising?”
“Um... I don’t remember.”
I didn’t miss the flicker of Chyler’s eyelids. She was lying, I was sure.
“They’re really bad, you know. They want power, any power, and they’ll do anything to get it,” she said, her eyes flicking up to look at me from beneath her lashes.
That didn’t exactly strike me as untrue. Chyler had intimated before that there wasn’t any successor to Robert Bartholomew and I wondered what it meant to have the council fractured without leadership.
“And you think they want yours?”
“Sure, and I bet they’ll make up a bunch of stuff about me to make sure no one wants to help me. You’re my only hope, Stella. I need to know I can rely on you.” Chyler darted another look at me from under her lashes. A tear slipped from her eye and her jaw wobbled. She looked vulnerable as hell but something in me still didn’t want to trust her.
“No one is going to hurt you,” I said, but I didn’t add:
I promise
. Promises could be broken.
“And you’ll zap them if anyone ...” But Chyler didn’t get to finish her sentence because just then my front door banged open. I hadn’t locked it like I normally did.
“Stella?” Gage called to me. I put my finger to my lips and mimed
shh
to Chyler. I scraped my chair back to get up and flapped my hand behind me as I walked out the room hoping she got the hint to stay back. I pulled the kitchen door so it was closed except for a sliver as I went through to the living room.
Gage was stood in the centre of the room, his chin raised up and he seemed to be sniffing the air. He started when I approached him. “You okay?” he asked.
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Thought I heard something,” he murmured, his nostrils flaring slightly as he looked about him.
I shrugged. “Just me. How’s it going out there?”
“Okay. The guys are fast workers. You’re house will be looking new in no time.”
I grinned. “You know this is probably the best loser deal ever?”
“If you keep making out how great a deal you’re getting, I’ll have to make up something to ensure I really won.” Gage laughed and his eyes creased with laughter lines. There was something captivating about him and I felt my breath catch in my throat, my heart race a few beats faster than normal. He stopped looking around like he was searching for something and instead his eyes narrowed as he focused on me keeping eye contact.
I breathed shallow breaths and finally, when my heart was under control, I said. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
Gage nodded and backed out of the door. “Shout if you need anything.”
I pushed the door closed after him and went back into the kitchen. Chyler had moved into my vacated seat where she wouldn’t be seen from the other room. “Who’s the hottie?” she asked.
I raised my eyebrows. “That is my neighbour, Gage.”
“My neighbours are dorks,” she sighed. “I wish I had neighbours like him.”
“And that’s probably the last time you’ll see him,” I said, feeling strangely proprietal as I explained. “Seeing as you should stay out of sight. If anyone comes asking, people will only know that I live here alone and that there aren’t any supernatural teens in residence.”
“So you won’t tell the council that I’m here?”
I shook my head. It wasn’t like I had a direct line to call up and reporting a missing teen, not that I would anyway given my past dealings with the council. They were largely the source of all my troubles.
Their last leader Eleanor Bartholomew had been the wife of the head of the witches’ council when she had done her best to kill me. She had failed in that regards, but she had succeeded in killing her own husband, Robert, and had driven my friends’ – Étoile and Seren’s – sister Astra mad in her power hungry struggles. Our elderly housekeeper Meg had taken a hit and as she died, fading in to ashes, I’d found out she was a vampire and over a century old. I still puzzled at the irony that the first vampire I had ever met had turned out to be a sweet old lady rather than a glamorous, brooding hunk. C’est la vie, I thought, then grimaced when I realised, actually, it was more, c’est la morte.
Meg hadn’t been the only casualty, of course. Jared, Christy and Clara, the other young witches who lived with us, had all died, caught unawares in the conflict. They hadn’t stood a chance. My close friend Kitty had been terribly hurt, part of Eleanor’s warning to me.
Evan had been hit by a powerful pulse of magic aimed at me when he had pushed me out of the way and taken the whole hit himself. I’d gone to help him as soon as I could, as soon as Eleanor wasn’t a threat anymore. He was still breathing but his blood was doing strange things and he wasn’t able to heal himself thanks to Eleanor’s devilish meddling. I didn’t find out until later when the ‘cleaners’ the remaining council sent had been surveying the scene, that Evan was a daemon. The man I thought I had loved, had concealed a massive secret from me, despite everything. A secret that was as shocking as it was revealing.