White Trash Warlock

by White Trash Warlock [retail]

  Adam reached the bottom first and looked back. Vic took the steps slowly, his hand gripping the rail. Framed in the light from the door, Vic looked weak. Adam wondered if their weakened bond had slowed Vic’s healing.

  “Are you okay?” Adam asked, stepping back up in case Vic needed help. He felt bad for making Vic climb down to him.

  “I’m fine,” Vic said. “Just not a hundred percent, and really not ready to go back to work.”

  Adam kept his eyes on Vic in case he fell and asked, “Have they asked you to?”

  “No,” Vic said, his face stiffening. “They’re still not sure what happened. All they saw was the shooting. Carl, he—well, he wasn’t the most stable guy, but no one saw that coming.”

  “Least of all Carl,” Adam said, eyes dropping to his feet. “It wasn’t his fault. The spirit used him.”

  “I didn’t go to the funeral,” Vic said. “I don’t know how it would have gone, if I would have been welcome. I didn’t want his wife or kids thinking about me, you know?”

  “I’m sorry,” Adam said, ready to catch Vic when he reached the bottom of the stairs.

  “It’s all right, but I’m going kind of stir-crazy. I can’t wait to go home.”

  “To your apartment?” Adam asked, feeling a little flush at the idea of access to a space that was only Vic’s, without either of their families around.

  “Yeah,” Vic said, a little smile telling Adam he was having similar thoughts. He stepped close enough that their noses almost touched.

  Adam reached out an arm, brushed past Vic to turn on the light.

  “Now tell me what’s up,” Vic said.

  “Cold move, Martinez,” Adam said.

  The weight of it all pressed in.

  Vic slid passed him, sat on the bed, and patted it, telling Adam to join him.

  Adam sat.

  “Explain,” Vic said.

  He really was intense went he went all stoic cop face.

  So Adam caught Vic up. He spilled it all, his father, tracking the warlock, the clock tower, Annie’s possession.

  “You were right,” Vic said.

  “About what?”

  “You are complicated,” Vic said, knocking their shoulders together. “Feel better?”

  “I do,” Adam said. He shook a little, like emptying it all out had weakened him, like he’d been running for so long and had finally stopped to catch his breath.

  “Thank you,” he said quietly, meaning it down to his toes.

  He wasn’t used to that either, being able to just talk to someone, openly. Even Sue, though she loved him, had strong opinions. And he realized he’d been hiding some things from her, protecting her from the warlock’s depravity. That wasn’t fair of him. She was old, not weak or stupid.

  “You know, you smell awful,” Vic said.

  “Thanks,” Adam said. Adam couldn’t argue. He was coated in smoke and dust.

  Vic laughed.

  “Go shower. I’ll make sure Jesse doesn’t talk your mom’s ear off.”

  Adam was almost out of clean clothes again, but having washed, dressed, and unburdened himself, he felt better, ready to figure out their next move. And it was theirs. He wasn’t alone in this.

  Heading upstairs, he found Jesse gone, the Cutlass gone, and a Dodge Challenger black, glossy, and utterly new, in the driveway.

  Argent leaned against it, talking to Vic. Hands in her pockets, she wore a stylish gray pantsuit and sunglasses that would have paid Sue’s lot rent for a year.

  “We have a lunch invitation,” she said.

  “From who?” Adam asked.

  “I think it’s whom,” Vic said.

  Argent looked between them and said, “The Guardians of the West. They say they have a package for you.”

  “That’s suspicious timing,” Adam said.

  “Agreed, but I think we should take the meeting,” Argent said.

  “We?” Adam asked.

  “I’m not letting you go alone. I don’t want you walking into a trap.” Argent nodded to Vic. “And I think he should come too.”

  “Can I drive?” Vic asked.

  “No.”

  “Shotgun,” Adam said, before Vic could react.

  Vic folded into the back seat with a frown.

  “The West,” Adam said as she backed out of the driveway. “Who holds the tower?”

  “They’re not my favorite,” the queen admitted, taking off far too quickly for a residential speed limit.

  “But who are they?” Vic asked.

  “Each watchtower is controlled by a powerful race,” Adam said. “They’re usually immortal, but not always. Long-lived, surely.”

  “We prefer to work with other immortals,” Argent said. “Those who take their duties as seriously as we do.”

  “And these guys don’t?” Vic asked.

  “The Guardians of the West are leprechauns,” Argent said.

  “Like, St. Patrick’s Day, sports team mascot leprechauns?” Vic asked.

  “They would prefer you avoid the stereotypes,” Argent said. “But essentially, yes. They are tricksters. They like to make deals, and they aren’t above making bargains with unsavory elements.”

  “A magical black market?” Vic asked. “Cool.”

  “Really?” Adam asked.

  Vic leaned back into his seat. “Maybe it’s the pain medication but at this point nothing surprises me.”

  Adam watched him shrug in the mirror and a warm feeling tickled his belly. It ran downward. Vic caught Adam watching, or maybe he felt it, too, and smiled.

  “Where is their tower anchor?” Adam asked, trying to push down his blush, which made it worse.

  Argent didn’t seem to notice. She drove way too fast. She zipped between cars, shifted them from mortal to spirit and back again, crossing the city at an impossible speed. The day was slightly hazy on the mortal side. The mountains looked unreal, silver and pink. In the spirit, he could see the explosion downtown, still expanding, an obscuring cloud covering the city.

  Argent sniffed and slid the car into a parking spot. She nodded to a church-like structure. It was pink with a big fountain out front.

  “It’s a theme restaurant,” she said, her mouth bending into something like a frown.

  “Oh no,” Vic said. “This place?”

  “Security is tight, especially after what happened with the East,” Argent said. “We have to enter through the mortal side.”

  They entered and joined a long line, passing through a stucco hallway with booths high above them.

  Adam blinked and checked that they hadn’t crossed over. The place could have used some fresh paint. It was obviously old, but the people waiting seemed happy and the line moved briskly.

  The menu wasn’t complicated.

  “Please don’t tell my mother I ate here,” Vic said.

  “Are we eating here?” Adam asked. He could eat. He could almost always eat, but he hadn’t gotten paid yet and cash remained short.

  “It’s the only way in the door,” Argent said. “You can eat. They don’t have anything vegan.”

  “Elves are vegan,” Adam told Vic before he could ask.

  “Why?” Vic asked.

  Argent sighed and said, “They say the average toddler asks three to four hundred questions a day. I see it is the same with your sort.”

  “His sort?” Adam asked.

  “Those new to magic,” she said. “Babies.”

  Argent was hedging. She knew something. Adam wondered what price he had to pay to get her to tell.

  “I prefer the term rookie,” Vic said, giving Adam a questioning look. “How else am I going to learn?”

  “He’s got a point,” Adam said as the menu, lit screens over the cashiers came into sight. The colors were supposed to be festive, b
ut they lacked the cheery brightness of the Martinez house. They were more like someone’s idea of Mexico. The crowd seemed to like it, but Adam bristled at their numbers, the press of their feelings. The children were especially hard. They had no control, no reservations, and their emotions broke over him like too many colors, flashing all at once.

  “White people,” Vic said, nudging Adam, and just that contact settled him into his skin. Vic nodded to the menu. “Get the cheese enchiladas. Trust me.”

  The line dragged on until they collected their trays from beneath a heat lamp and shuffled forward. Argent carried a single glass of iced tea and wore an expression that challenged anyone to comment.

  The host led them to a seat near a waterfall. An actual indoor waterfall that dropped into an actual pool, deep enough to swim in.

  “This is really—” Adam started, glancing around, his stomach a ball of nerves about what Vic must be thinking.

  “It’s fun,” Vic said. “Like a carnival in a cafeteria.”

  Adam took in the decor. It was like a little town. They sat in a booth fashioned to look like a balcony beneath a drop ceiling painted black.

  “I will go seek the entrance,” Argent said with a disgusted look.

  When she’d gone, Adam looked to Vic. “Be very careful with her. She’s powerful.”

  “She likes you,” Vic said, using his fork to slice a piece off his enchilada with a mischievous grin. “Everybody likes you.”

  Adam shook his head and looked around. He didn’t see anyone browner than himself. “Doesn’t this place offend you or something?”

  Vic laughed. “’Cause it’s my culture or something?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s a restaurant. The food’s bad, but it’s fun. And a family can feed and entertain their kids for without spending a lot of money.”

  As Vic spoke, a diver took to the top of the waterfall. He wore a speedo and with an almost unintelligible song and dance about the height from an MC holding a microphone too close to her mouth, he dove into the pool.

  “What is this place?” Adam asked. He checked it with his Sight, made certain Argent hadn’t crossed them over, but no, there was a waterfall and a human diver. In a restaurant. The smell of bleach wafted through the air.

  The diver climbed out of the pool and up the fake grotto, using the rocks to dive again, this time with a flip. Adam gaped.

  “He’s hot, don’t you think? Vic asked.

  “I—I don’t know.” Adam felt the blush travel up his face.

  “What’s wrong?” Vic said.

  “I just—I don’t look like that, you know?”

  “So?”

  “So what if you decide you are gay and—”

  “I think I’m bi,” Vic said.

  “Okay,” Adam said.

  “I mean, I hadn’t really put a label on it, but I guess I’ve always been equal opportunity, more about the person than the gender, you know?”

  “Okay,” Adam repeated.

  “Say something,” Vic said. “This is my big coming out speech. I thought you’d take it better than my mother.”

  “You told your mother,” Adam said, remembering their conversation in her car.

  “She’s always shopping for Pride flags.” Vic said with a shrug.

  “I—I don’t know,” Adam said. “What if it’s just the magic?”

  “It’s not,” Vic said, shrugging through another bite. He kept his eyes on Adam “I mean, I’ve never gone there, but to be honest you’re the first guy I’ve wanted to take the trip with.”

  “Okay,” Adam said a third time. The tea was too old. Aunt Sue would have thrown it out.

  “You could say something else,” Vic said. “How about you?”

  “I’ve only ever been with guys,” Adam said. He watched the diver, wet and scowling with concentration, juggle lit torches. “I’ve only ever wanted to be with guys.”

  “Are you worried I’ll change my mind?” Vic asked.

  “Sometimes,” Adam said, nodding to the diver. He would have scowled too if his nipples were fire-adjacent. “Or that you’ll want someone like that? A jock.”

  “You think I’m that shallow?” Vic asked. He looked hurt. “You think I don’t see you.”

  “It’s just—I’m not used to this,” Adam said. He waved his fork to indicate the connection between them. “Having someone in my head, or talking about it, you know?”

  And my heart. Because as little as they’d done, he liked Vic. Adam could sense the fall, the crevasse beneath him. Given time, he could love Vic, and he barely knew him.

  Adam took a bite of the enchilada at last. It wasn’t as bad as he’d expected, but the cheese had a plastic taste. He dumped the salsa from the chips atop it.

  “You think I’m used to it?” Vic asked.

  “I know,” Adam said. He cringed. He had no right to whine. All of this was even newer ground for Vic. “But I mean, to being wanted.”

  “You didn’t date in high school?”

  Adam snorted. “No one really wanted to kiss the guy who heard voices.”

  Vic gave a confused shake of his head.

  “It was the magic. I couldn’t control it or tune it out until Pe—Silver taught me.”

  “What about after?”

  “There’ve been a few guys,” Adam said, blushing. He remembered kissing Tanner, and some of the others he’d met in Oklahoma. They weren’t like Vic. Kissing them was nothing like kissing Vic.

  He almost asked if Vic had many girlfriends, but decided he didn’t want to know.

  “I don’t care if you’re a jock,” Vic said. “I think you’re beautiful. Handsome. Whatever.”

  “Pft,” Adam scoffed.

  “Shut up and take a compliment,” Vic said, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

  “You’re too nice,” Adam said. And he was. Vic was handsome, good. It made no sense that someone like that would be able to see Adam’s past, where he came from, and just not care.

  “Not according to Jesse. Trust me, he’ll give you a long list of my flaws. And Mom, she’s got a lot to say since I’ve been staying with her.”

  “You can’t really want me,” Adam asked. “Can you?”

  Vic leaned over and kissed him. Adam started to pull away, nervous about the people around them, but no bruise-colored shame or crimson hatred leaked in, not from the diners, the waiters, and especially not from Vic. This was real. They were real.

  Vic broke the kiss, and settled back into his seat, though he kept his eyes on Adam’s.

  “I want you,” Vic said. “Yeah, maybe I nearly died and would never have thought about it if you hadn’t saved me. But who cares?”

  They really were from completely different worlds. Vic might as well have been as alien as an elf. He’d realized something about himself, thought about it, and accepted it without the self-torture or endless stress Adam would have gone through. And that, the fact Vic was like that, different, made Adam smile, even if a bit of something like jealousy tinged it.

  “I see you,” Vic continued. “And I want you. It’s that simple.”

  When Adam chewed his lip, Vic demanded, almost angrily, “Okay?”

  “Okay.” Adam looked around them, double checking the room.

  “Fuck ’em,” Vic whispered.

  “You know, you’re taking all of this really well. Not just the guy-on-guy thing, the magic, the elves . . . all of it.”

  “Think about it,” Vic said. “There’s a whole world out there.”

  “Worlds,” Adam interjected.

  “That we don’t know about.”

  “It doesn’t freak you out?” Adam asked.

  “I’m Catholic,” Vic said. “When you think about it, it’s kind of confirmation.”

  “That we’re going to hell?” Ada
m asked. He wiggled his fingers. “I’m gay. And I do witchcraft.”

  “Well, have you talked to God about it?” Vic asked. “You know, taken it up with management?”

  “I’ve never seen proof of God. Gods, yes, but not the capital-G Judeo-Christian one.”

  Vic looked a little disappointed. “We should ask around. See if anybody’s met Him.”

  “You’re really not struggling with all of this?” Adam asked.

  “Not yet,” Vic said. “But like I said, I’m still on painkillers. I’m kind of waiting for the shoe to drop, you know? Like it’s all real, and this unseen world affects me in ways I can’t see.”

  Adam stiffened a little. He wondered if that’s how Bobby and his mother felt. Adam could understand. His Sight was weak, but they were mostly blind, so far as he could tell, so far as they’d admitted. He’d been too hard on them perhaps.

  “You’re going to help me understand,” Vic said. And there it was. Vic could ask where Bobby could not. They were nothing alike.

  “I can do that,” Adam said, smiling.

  “What’s that grin for?”

  “I’ve never met anyone like you, Vicente Martinez.”

  Vic made a pained expression. “We’re going to have to work on your Spanish.”

  “They’re ready for us,” Argent said, appearing with her usual grace beside the table. “Let’s go.”

  “Too bad,” Vic complained. “The sopaipillas aren’t bad. And I think they’re vegan.”

  Argent arched an eyebrow at Adam and asked, “He’s just trying to piss me off, isn’t he?”

  “I don’t know,” Adam said. “I can’t always tell.”

  Smirking, Vic said, “You’ll get used to me.”

  “Come,” Argent said. “Before I stab one of you out of annoyance.”

  They followed her down through the restaurant. The place went on forever, and they hadn’t even crossed from the mortal side. Adam gaped at the underground, the dining rooms themed like a mine shaft, then a cave. His nose wrinkled as the bleach from the pool followed them. It masked the food or any other odor.

  “This place is too much,” Adam said.

  “It has a little charm,” Argent admitted. “But be cautious. Leprechauns like their games.”