When I opened my eyes again the room was littered with tinkling, sparkling silver motes fluttering all around. Some got close enough to bounce off my skin and pinpricks raced through me each time it happened. I smiled at them and extended my arms, and instead of disappearing they approached and surrounded me, landing on my arms and hands and dancing for me; unafraid.
“I am your child,” I said in a soft voice, and the motes spread out and came together again almost in acknowledgement of what I had just said.
I watched, then, as a formation of silver motes floated toward the middle of the room. Soon others joined them, and each individual light added to the other’s creating a brilliance no single sliver could have produced on their own. Together they formed a shining silver orb, and I recognized them—and it—for what they—and it—were.
This was the Goddess, and she was here with me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
I must have stayed up too late the night before because I wasn’t ready for the world the next day. With no energy inside of me I staggered to class, struggled to stay awake during the lectures, and barely made it to the bookstore in one piece. I collapsed on the arm chair like a dead weight as soon as it was within reach.
“Jesus, Amber,” said Eliza, “What the hell happened to you?”
I groaned.
“Are you hung over?”
“I’m tired,” I said, grumbling.
“Yeah, no shit.” Eliza grabbed my face and turned it towards her. My eyes snapped open all on their own. “Here, drink this.”
I downed the half can of coke she was holding in her hand and propped myself up on the seat. “Thanks,” I said.
Eliza sat on the other arm chair and examined me. “So? Aren’t you gonna tell me what, or who, kept you up all night?”
“I’m really not in the mood for an interrogation.”
“Well, you better get in the mood because it’s coming.”
I sighed. “I don’t know. College is tougher than I thought. I’m up reading all night and I’m not sleeping well, I guess.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine, there’s just a lot to do.” I wasn’t sure where I was going with the lie. Eliza had seen me devour whole books in a single evening without skipping a beat. I didn’t know if she was buying any of it.
“I think I know what’s going on,” she said.
“You do?”
“C’mon, you can’t keep things from me. You’re a terrible liar.”
“I am,” I confessed, nodding at the floor.
“How long are you gonna keep you and Damien a secret from me?”
I turned my eyes up at her and caught the grin on her face. “Damien? Why do you say Damien?”
“Well, I know it’s not the work so it has to be a guy. Process of elimination.”
“We’re just friends, Eliza. You know I’d tell you if something happened between us.”
“Would you?” she asked, pursing her lips into a u-shaped smile, “I don’t think you would. I think you’d keep it quiet from me.”
“And why would I lie to you about a guy?”
“Because you like keeping your secrets; I know you, baby. Better than you think.”
“Maybe, but it’s not Damien, alright? So can we drop it there?”
Eliza stood and raised her hands. “Alright, if you say so; but I know you. You’re hiding something.” She checked her phone for the time. “You’re lucky I’ve gotta be at this Antenatal appointment in… now. So I’m gonna get out of here.”
“I’ll take care of the shop, don’t worry,” I said.
“I’m not worried,” she said, “But I will sniff you out, Miss Lee. Mark my words.”
Eliza grabbed her bag from the counter and made a swift exit. Thank the Goddess. I loved Eliza with all my heart, but I had been keeping the truth from her a lot lately. Part of me couldn’t even meet her eyes out of the guilt of it all, but what could I have said to her? Sorry, I’m a True Witch so I’m doing Witchy things without you and Evan. My status as a True Witch was going to test our sisterhood, and it made me sick to my stomach.
A few customers trickled in during the course of the afternoon; enough to keep me awake and to justify my being there as far as dollars and cents went. But my eyelids were heavy and I couldn’t find a moment of clear concentration no matter how hard I tried. At around five o’clock, the door to the bookshop tinkled open and Damien stepped in wearing a long-sleeved black top I had grown to enjoy seeing him in.
“Hey,” he said, approaching. You look… different.”
“Different?” I asked.
“Sorry, I don’t think I’ve really seen your eyes in this light before. You have really nice eyes.”
My cheeks burned red. The sunlight was starting to fall over the buildings beyond the street so the bookshop was cast all in honey and wood tones. My green eyes must have stuck out, but I couldn’t exactly see them.
“Way to wake a girl up,” I said, smiling. “I’ll accept your compliment today.”
“Good,” he said, sitting down on the spare stool. “Tired?”
“Yeah, spent. Last night really took it out of me.”
“I’m not surprised. Using Magick, even just feeling it, takes it out of you.”
He produced a box he had brought with him and placed it on the counter. The side read “Mary’s Cupcakes” and the transparent top revealed a set of delicious chocolate treats inside. I should have recognized the box when he brought it in, but I was too tired to even notice.
“You know, normally, when someone brings me food, it’s because they want something. You’ve just dropped my favorite cupcakes in front of me; tell me what you’d like and it’s yours.”
Damien smiled. “I don’t want anything. I just figured we haven’t had a real conversation since the cabin. I thought you could use some company in your—this is your last hour before closing, right?”
I nodded and smiled. “It is. This is the quiet hour.”
“Then you don’t mind me sticking around for a while? I don’t have anything else to do, and—”
“I accept your request,” I said, “And these delicious cupcakes. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like. Only, we have to sit over there.”
I hopped around the counter and sat on one of the arm chairs, placing the box on the table between the chairs and opening it to let the warm, chocolatey smell escape. They were warm, too!
“Oh God,” I said, picking one up. “And they’re fresh! You sure do know how to strike a deal.”
“I didn’t get them because I wanted something from you,” he said as he joined me. “I only wanted to do something nice for you. Last night was… crazy.”
His smile; I couldn’t keep my eyes off it.
“You didn’t have to, Damien. Really, you didn’t.” I picked one of the cupcakes up and handed it to him. “But now you have to share them with me, so, bottoms up.”
I took a bite out of my cupcake and we sat in silence for a moment, our mouths full of hazelnut, buttercream and spongey goodness. A soft moan, emanating from my belly, radiated out of me like a warm glow. Damien, likewise, seemed to enjoy his—although his manner of eating wasn’t quite as euphoric as mine.
When we were each done with one cupcake I folded the paper it came in and placed it on the table.
“You know,” I said, “I thought you were staring at me the first time we met.”
“I’m sorry, I’m a little awkward.”
“I know. Don’t worry, it’s fine, I’m awkward too. I don’t deal well with people.”
“You seem to do okay with me.”
“Once I’ve hung around someone enough, sure, but it isn’t easy.”
“I don’t like crowds,” Damien confessed, “I blend into the background half the time. As a teen I was that kid who trailed off and sat on a bench on his own while his group of friends mingled nearby.”
“And I bet all the pretty girls came over to see if you were ok
ay?”
Damien laughed.
“Am I right?” I prodded.
“They weren’t always pretty.”
I grinned. “Can I try something on you?” I asked.
“Sure,” Damien said.
I shuffled my seat closer to Damien’s and asked for his hand, which he offered without much thought. I opened his palm and gazed into it, tracing the lines with my fingertips. He had such smooth skin.
“Are you about to read my palm?” Damien asked.
“You taught me how to use Magick,” I said, “So let me use it.”
Damien nodded and fell silent.
I gazed into his palm and closed my eyes, trying my hardest to feel the Currents of Magick around us but paying close attention to the ripples his aura caused in the ethereal waters. The whole process seemed part alien, part natural. The palm reading was simple enough, but the Currents of Magick thing… it would be some time before I got the hang of that.
“Your favorite band is… the Foo Fighters,” I started, “You play an instrument. I’m hearing percussion; drums. You prefer blue over red, but both are needed to make purple—your true favorite. How close am I?”
“Pretty close.”
I opened my eyes and smiled. “Impressed?”
Damien nodded. “You’ve picked it all up way faster than I did.”
“It helps that I have a good teacher,” I said, still holding his hand. “Who I’m already better than, by the way.”
Damien smiled and his hazel eyes twinkled against the dying light. But then he caught sight of us still holding each other and slipped free, almost on instinct.
He nodded over to the desk. “What are you reading?” he asked.
Way to change the subject, I thought.
“Oh this?” I said, picking the book up from the table. “IT. Stephen King.” I dropped the book in his lap.
“I’ve never read it,” he said, staring at the haunting clown on the cover.
“You read any of Stephen King’s books before?”
“I… don’t read much at all.”
“Really? Not even horror? I thought you loved horror.”
“Yeah, movies…”
“Oh… yeah, you’re missing out then.”
“That’s what everyone says.” He put the book back on the table. “Books are always better than movies and all that.”
“They are. That’s just a fact.”
“I don’t know. Movies are pretty good too.”
“Yeah, movies are fun to watch, but they’re over too quickly. And besides, a movie has never hooked me in quite like a good book has. With a book you live with the character. You feel their fear, their pain, and their love.”
Damien gave me a polite nod but I could tell he wasn’t being swayed.
“You know what?” I said, standing, “Let’s go find you a few books.”
“What?” he asked.
“You heard me. Up.”
Damien followed me through the aisles and held on to every book I passed him; horror titles, mainly, but a few Fantasy authors made the cut too. I made a mental note of each book I gave him and then wrote them down in a notepad I kept in the drawer beneath the counter. By the time closing rolled along the stack of books had grown so large that Damien could barely hold onto them all. So we stuffed the books into the back room, behind a pile of boxes, and I picked one for him to read.
I landed on The Woman in Black.
“Read this,” I said, handing it to him, “And when you’re done you can bring it back and take another one,” I said.
“Don’t I have to pay?” he asked.
“Schh. I’m starting a private lender’s club. Just don’t tell Eliza.”
“You’re serious?”
“Deadly serious. You need to read these books so that we can talk about them when we’re watching the movies… you know, to compare which ones were better.”
Damien carefully slid the book into his backpack. “I’ll take good care of it,” he said.
“And I’m sure you will. But you’d better read it quick. I expect progress reports daily, as well as a run-down of what’s going on. I don’t care if it’s three pages or thirty. You read, or else.”
“Or else what?” he asked, cocking a playful eyebrow.
“Well, I can’t withhold sex from you, so—”
A loud thump that seemed to have come from the main window to the bookstore yanked us away from our conversation, leaving my half-joke hanging in the air for all to see.
“What was that?” Damien asked.
“I don’t know,” I said, although in truth my heart was already in my throat.
Damien carefully circled the counter and made his way toward the front door, which was partially obscured by a shoulder-height bookshelf. I watched him open it, and then duck as a huge black bird came rushing into the store, squawking and flapping in some kind of frenzy.
I ducked behind the counter and screamed for Damien, who came running after a moment. We watched the bird circle the bookstore, flying high enough to avoid hitting anything, and then stop on one of the tall beams that ran across the length of the shop. It stared down at us, hopped around, and shook violently.
“That’s a fucking Raven!” I said.
The Raven shook again, cocked its head, and started to caw. I didn’t want to admit it, but a strange chill had entered the store, barking at the Raven’s heels. But I was sure Damien sensed it too, even if he didn’t quite feel it on his flesh just yet.
After a few seconds of what sounded like polite cawing, the Raven started to flap its wings and croak even louder than before, seemingly frustrated by our lack of understanding. I struggled to make out what it was saying at the start, but it didn’t take me long to hear the word for what it was; even if I didn’t exactly hear it with my own ears but rather with my mind’s eye.
Frank.
Frank.
Frank.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
It was time to find Frank. That much the bird had decided for us.
When we got the message the bird made for the front door and waited. I swallowed hard, stood up from behind the counter, and then I strode over to the front door and opened it without paying the Raven any mind. It flew out almost immediately, and I breathed a deep sigh of relief.
“That,” I said, “Is how it’s done.”
Damien joined me by the front door, breathing heavily, and ran his hands through his hair. “That was the Raven you saw the day you took a dip, wasn’t it?”
“Pretty sure no other Raven has been following me around.”
“So I guess we go and find Frank, then, huh?”
I nodded and we set ourselves to the task of figuring out where he lived. As it turned out, Finding Frank’s address didn’t prove to be as difficult a task as I had originally thought. We knew his last name and it was listed in the phone book under a registered address, so after we drove over straight away as the bird had urged us to do.
I had never met the strange man in person, but I remembered what the public had to say about him. Faggot. Satanist. Murderer. Of course, back then he was accused of having murdered a very lovely young woman, and if the authorities had found him guilty they probably would have been able to pin Joanna’s death on him too. I mean, if the Sheriff was suspicious of Damien simply because he was from out of town, was it any wonder, really, of the way they had treated Frank?
But Frank probably didn’t want pity, so I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind and went on with my mission.
We found Frank’s apartment on the third floor of one of several identical low-rise buildings close to the center of town. The neighborhood was still pretty busy, but once we entered the building all was quiet—that is until we reached Frank’s floor. Heavy rock music was ripping through the hall. Drums and percussion beats slamming into walls as hard as bullets.
There were four deadbolt locks lined up vertically along one side of the door to Frank’s place. I knocked a few times but
the music swallowed just about every other sound on the floor. Damien glanced around the corridor and placed his hand against the door. I sensed a ripple of power spill out of him and touch me, and my body shuddered. He was doing something to the door, but I couldn’t quite make out what it was.
I didn’t hear the deadbolts unlock on their own over the music, but when I saw Damien effortlessly push the door open I knew what he had done beyond a shadow of a doubt, and my body started to shake with the excitement of what he had just done. Or maybe my own power was reacting to his in some strange way?
Beyond the closed door lived a dim, untidy apartment that smelt vaguely like alcohol and… disinfectant? I stepped inside as the music assaulted my ears and found a tall, lanky man in the dark room, strewn out over a sofa, with a needle to his arm. Without thinking, I dashed deeper into the room and with a flick of my wrist sent the needle flying out of the man’s hand and into the wall on the far side of the room.
Did I just throw telekinesis at him?
The man shot bolt-upright, wide eyed, and backed away from us; stumbling over an empty bottle and collapsing to the ground on his ass. I couldn’t hear what the man was saying but the defensive expression on his face and the wide O of his mouth was easy enough to read. He was surprised we had gotten in, shocked that I had thrown Magick at him, and he wanted us to get the fuck out.
I brought my hands up, the same way I would have if someone was aiming a gun at me. “Frank,” I said, knowing we had our guy, “We’re here to help.” But I doubted he could hear me over the music.
His surprise turned to a scowl and he glared at me with eyes like knives. The skin on my arm started then to crawl, and then it burned! I gaped at my forearm, watching the skin as it grew irate and red. The burn was starting to make me feel sick, and when the blisters started to show I couldn’t take it anymore. My hands dropped and I cradled my arm, screaming from the pain.