by Kaye Draper
I gaped at him. The balls on this kid. "Uh. No, thanks. Much as I'd like you to get the fuck out, I'd also like a promise that your people aren't going to come storming in here again, guns-a-blazing like last time. Drake isn't hurting anyone. So, what's your problem? Why are hunters out hunting innocent people?"
He scoffed at me. "Ma'am, I think you've been enthralled. Only mind manipulation would explain thinking these beasts," he glanced at the vampires and Luna, "are people." He raised one eyebrow as he swept his blue gaze over me. "Though, why I'm attempting to reason with a black-hearted corpse-lover like you is just as much of a mystery."
He calmly picked up his coffee and took a sip.
Ashton threw up his hands in exasperation. "See! What did I tell you? All he does is spew nonsense. Hence the gag."
I frowned. "We're all gonna die, aren't we?" I said tiredly.
Because I'd seen this kind of fanatic black and white thinking before. You couldn't change people's minds when they were so convinced they were superior to everyone.
Toma ran a hand through his hair and tilted his head, his long earrings glinting in the overhead light. He narrowed his eyes and whispered something, looking at things we couldn't see. "Maybe not," he said quietly. "He's not all he seems. And he just needs proper motivation to see the truth. Hopefully it comes in time."
Sighing, the pretty mage turned his attention back to the sullen hunter. "Van, I think I can get them to remove the rest of the ropes and let you have a little freedom. But I need you to make an oath."
Van narrowed his eyes at Toma.
"I need you to promise you will not try to escape, and you won't hurt anyone in this murder." He shrugged. "If you are so convinced your family will come for you anyway, all you have to do is wait."
The hunter looked around the room. His eyes landed on me. I stared right back. "No one here wants to hurt you, kid. We just want to be left the hell alone."
Finally, he let out a long sigh and returned his attention to Toma. "I swear I will not attempt to escape until someone comes for me. And I will not harm your people, so long as none of them attempt to harm me."
Toma smiled wryly at the little changes to the wording. "Good enough."
Drake nodded to the younger vampires. "Untie his legs and take him to the living room. We'll take turns watching him."
Van stood and waited as Ashton cut his legs free. Then he stretched and twisted, his joints cracking. When the vampire reached out to take his arm to lead him to the living room, the hunter yanked away, glaring. "I can walk on my own, monster."
I watched them disappear into the living room, then glanced at my murder. "Do you really think he's just going to keep his promise? Just like that?"
Drake grinned. "Oh, he will."
Toma nodded. "Remember what we told you about promises made by those of strong magical blood?"
I blinked at him in confusion. They had told me promises were more binding for supes, especially those of stronger supe races. "But…he's just a human, right? Humans lie all the time."
Luna snorted and crossed her arms over her breasts. "That's one's about as human as I am, hon."
I blinked at them. "They aren't even human? Then why the hell are they hunting supes?"
Jet came strolling back into the room, displaced by our new guests. "Because mortals are stunningly stupid," he answered, putting his empty coffee cup into the sink. He turned to regard me, his eyes sad at my continued stupidity, since I didn't know everything there was to know about everything, like some know-it-all cat. "Hunters make themselves stronger by ingesting bits of the supposed monsters they hunt." He waved a hand. "It's all very hypocritical. As is everything humans do."
I shook my head. "So…his promise will bind him, just like a supe?"
Drake nodded. "For now. Meanwhile we need to decide what to do with him."
Toma pressed his full lips together in thought, then shrugged. "Why not just do what your vampire followers suggested? Change his mind?"
Luna scoffed. "Not possible." I tended to agree with her on that one.
Toma just smiled, slow and soft. "But I've seen inside his soul. There's so much there. Layers and layers of duty, responsibility, honor…and doubt. That boy is a powder keg just waiting to explode." He winked at me. "All he needs is the right spark."
I sighed. "Well…let’s hope he doesn't burn the damned house down when that happens."
Chapter 9
The household settled into a weird sort of routine. Toma, Drake, and Luna still went to work as usual in town, since we did have bills to pay even if it felt like the world was about to come crashing down on us. Awan came back to us, wearing a tall, fit white-haired man's body. He accompanied the others whenever they went to work, since he didn't have to sleep and none of us liked the thought of being alone or divided right now. Not with the collector still out there, and the hunters headed our way.
I knew the skinwalker didn't like leaving me, but I had Jet, whoever wasn't working at the time, a bunch of vampires, and Luna's new wolves hanging around the house constantly. I was pretty sure I was safe as I was going to get.
Jet and I met with the black witch, poured over old books, and got on each other's nerves constantly, while the bossy familiar tried to force magical knowledge into my slow, necromancer brain.
Like with Awan, he was able to tell me what was possible. He was even able to show me how to work more easily with my power. But he still wasn't a necromancer. He couldn't understand how things worked from this side of the mirror.
I was growing more frustrated by the day. My dad was still out there in the clutches of a madman, and we were all sitting here waiting for some sort of big attack. I felt useless. And I was terrified that one of my murder was going to get injured, kidnapped, or killed. And it would be my fault for being too slow and stupid to know how to help.
In between all of this, I tried to make friends with our reluctant house guest. The vamps had taken up the two remaining spare rooms, so we planted the hunter in the living room, where he was always under watch by at least one person. He was mostly silent, only speaking when spoken to, and then only to spout snark and rhetoric. But I remembered Toma's words. The guy might be a vampire hunter, and a gun-toting American with the usual tough-guy attitude…but he was also a teenager. And it sounded like he probably had a shit ton of expectations on his shoulders if he was some sort of valuable family heir.
The more I tried to get to know him, the more he clammed up, and the snottier he got. But it didn't bother me. Because I could finally see it for what it was—a defense mechanism. He was set on making us his enemies because that was the only safe option. If he made friends with any of us, then we'd see his weaknesses.
"Cookies," I proclaimed, dropping a plate of double chocolate heaven onto the coffee table.
Van looked up at me with that same cold, flat blue gaze, then went back to reading the book in his hands. I smirked when I realized it was one of the books I'd written about how to grow tomatoes. He must be bored out of his fucking mind.
"Look," I said, dropping into the chair next to where he sat on the couch. "I know we're dumb monsters and all, but you've got to be bored. Would you like something else to read?"
I bent and pulled a thick book bound in some sort of weird, soft leather material out from under the chair. I held the book out to him, trying not to think about how the cover always left my hands feeling oily and my power unsettled. "I'm trying to figure out how to rescue my dad from some madman who knows how to imprison other magic users and take their powers. Fun stuff."
He raised one dark red eyebrow at me. "Where did you get that disgusting thing?"
I glanced down at the book. "Uh. It's on loan. From a black witch."
That got me both eyebrows raised. "And you insist you aren't evil."
I rolled my eyes. "Well, she creeps me the fuck out too. But she helped Luna when a pack of wolves attacked her. And she agreed to help me learn more about how magic works so I can help peo
ple." I shook the book, still holding it out to him. "I don't plan on becoming a black magic user any time soon, but I thought it might be good if I at least understood what this collector guy might be capable of. I hardly know anything about magic. I didn't know any of this crap even existed a year ago. How can I fight something I don't know exists?"
He sighed and took the book, grimacing as his fingers touched the cover. "You don't plan to become a black magic user. So…you don't animate corpses, then?"
I glared at him as he studied the book. "You know what I mean. Some of those spells are nasty. All I do is occasionally move around some dead organic matter that no one is using anymore. I'm not like…sacrificing kittens or something."
He flipped one of the thick, yellowed pages, studying the looping script and hand-drawn pictures. "This is disgusting," he muttered again, wiping his fingers on his jeans. His eyes were glued to the pages though, as he flipped rapidly through, scanning like a speed-reader.
"Right?" I said tiredly. "But I don't really think knowing that stuff exists is helping me at all." I heaved a sigh. "We can't even find the guy right now. He's got my dad under some sort of binding. And my dad's a fate mage." I leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling, feeling defeated. "So, he's probably using that against us. Impossible to find a magic user who doesn't want to be found, when he literally has luck on his side."
The hunter didn't reply, just flipped more pages. I drifted off, lost in my thoughts and lulled by the soft shush of the turning pages.
The front door banged open and closed and I sighed. Once upon a time, I lived all alone out here away from town, surrounded by fields and woods, in my big, dusty Victorian witch's house with my herbs and my animal skull collection. Now people were coming and going like it was a damned public housing complex, and the place was overrun with vampires and werewolves who were still going through puberty.
"Wipe your damned feet!" I yelled, feeling like a tired, middle-aged mother.
"Alright, alright. I took my damned boots off. Geeze, Esper, what crawled up your butt and died?"
Okay, not the teenager I was expecting. I was actually glad to see this one. Ryan came down the hall and into the living room. "Do you know you have like…a million pairs of shoes out there. What the hell is going on around here?" He shook his hands. "And why did my fingers and toes just go all tingly?"
He came around the couch and froze when he realized there was someone else here. The hunter glanced up at my brother, his icy glare going even colder, then looked back down at the book. He continued to flip pages.
Ryan raised his eyebrows, then he saw the cookies. He grabbed a pile of them and flopped into the empty wingback chair across from me. "Did you make these? They're amazing. Can I have the recipe?"
That got him another blue glare. Another page flip.
I grinned. So, my teenage brother could cook. Big deal. In the environment we'd grown up in, being able to feed yourself was way more important than knowing how to decipher spell books, or stake vampires, or whatever. "Luna made them, actually. Um…the werewolf vet. I can't remember if you've met her or not. She's trying to teach Jet how to cook. Not that he's even trying to learn."
Ryan just shoved a cookie in his mouth and blinked at me. "Jet. That's the cat, right?"
I sighed. "I know I should have explained all of this crap to you a lot sooner, but things have been really crazy for me the last few months. And…I thought you were human all my life. I thought I was the only freak in the family."
Ryan glanced at the stranger sitting on the couch. I waved away his concern. "Ignore him. He's like furniture."
Pages continued to flip.
Ryan huffed an uncomfortable laugh. "If you say so." He chewed on another cookie for a minute. "Look, Esper. I didn't know what exactly you were. I just always knew there was something different about you growing up. Something spooky, but not bad in the way mom kept insisting." He shrugged. "Then one day, I was arguing with the guys."
I narrowed my eyes at him. The group of boys he hung out with was like a pack of rabid dogs. He was going to get in serious trouble with them one of these days.
He waved away my concern. "I know. I know. You were right. They do petty stuff, mostly. But one day they wanted to take shit too far." He looked down at his hands. "Old man Reeves is a grumpy ass. But he's got his reasons. They had this whole plan to knock him over the head and steal from the till."
Old Reeves owned one of the tiny diners that had been in Hellsfork since forever. His wife passed away a few years back, and he'd been intolerable ever since. But he still made the best food I'd ever tasted. And he donated to all kinds of local charities. If Ryan had robbed that old man, I'd beat the kid black and blue myself.
He must have known what I was thinking, because he held up his hands defensively. "Nothing happened. I told them I wasn't doing it. That they weren't doing it. They didn't like that. Things got…violent. And I kind of…exploded? Tossed Jimmy—the big fat one, you know?—through the air with some sort of…I don't know, burst of wind or something. It scared the shit out of them, and I haven't heard from any of them since." He sighed. "Scared the shit out of me too. Which is why I came out here to talk to you. But seeing you with that guy just kinda set me off." His brown skin turned dusky as he glanced at our silent companion, then back at me. He'd see me hugging Awan, after seeing me out on dates with Toma and Drake, and he'd drawn the logical conclusion—that I was a whore. "I'm sorry I accused you of being like mom, Esper. I know better. You aren't a monster like her. You never could be."
I glanced at the hunter and raised an eyebrow. "See. I'm not a monster."
He turned another page and didn't respond.
"What's really going on around here, Esper?" Ryan said, grabbing another cookie, his brown eyes full of barely suppressed anticipation. "Whatever you guys did at the trailer, I think it worked. Mom's been sober for almost a week now. And I haven't found drugs in the house in days."
Blue eyes flicked up, studied Ryan, then slid to meet my own. I glanced between the hunter and my brother. "So…I kind of found out there was a curse on our mom. And I don't have the slightest idea how that works—I didn't even know it was a real thing until a couple weeks ago. But," I said, glaring at the hunter, "that black witch you were just pitching a fit about? She taught Toma and Jet how to break the curse."
Van shifted in his seat, then returned to his speed-reading. He was almost through the whole hefty volume. It was kind of impressive, if he was managing to actually retain anything.
"So…curses are real? Esper, what are you? What am I?" Ryan clenched his fingers in the chair cushion.
I sighed. "I'm a necromancer, Ryan."
He blinked at me, his brown eyes wide. "A…like, that dungeons and dragons, game nerd fantasy stuff? You, what, control dead people?"
I shrugged. "It's complicated. But…yeah pretty much."
He laughed. "That explains a lot." He gestured at the skull collection on my mantle. "Am I a necromancer too?"
"You're a witch," Van snapped, flipping another page, not looking up.
Ryan watched him. "A witch. Okay. What are you, then?" His gaze shifted from the blue eyes to the pale skin and auburn hair. "A fairy or something?"
Van looked up, met his eyes. "A hostage."
The hunter closed the book and tossed it back to me. "That was enlightening. But it's not going to help you find your father."
I sagged in defeat. "No, I didn't think so. There's more, though."
He rubbed his hands on his pants again and I grimaced. "I know, right? Why does it feel so oily?"
He stopped moving, lifting one eyebrow at me, that cold blue gaze unwavering. "What did you expect human skin to feel like?"
I threw the book. It landed in the middle of the living room with a thump. "What?"
He shook his head at me. "Y'all really didn't know what you were until you were an adult? Are you really that ignorant of the world around you?"
I opened my mouth,
but Jet strolled in and cut me off "Yes. She's stupid. But it grows on you. Eventually it seems almost…charming."
He turned to me. "Idiot necromancer, the wolves ate all the food and I need lunch."
I rolled my eyes. "I'm busy. I'm explaining to Ryan about all this magic crap. Go find someone else to feed you."
Yellow eyes bored into me. "I'm hungry."
I shook my head. "This is Jet," I said to my brother, who looked confused as hell. "You've met him before. He's a familiar. He helps me with my magic sometimes, in exchange for me not beating him to death when he acts like a cat."
Ryan laughed. "Um. Hi."
Jet crossed his arms over his black hoodie with a white crow outline on it. "Hello, little brother. Your magic appears to be getting stronger."
To his credit, Ryan seemed to be taking this all in stride. "Uh, thanks. Yeah, my fingers and toes have been tingling ever since I walked in here. I'm not going to like…explode or anything, am I? Cause it doesn't usually do this."
Jet smirked. "You won't die from it—will he, hunter?" He slid a sly look toward Van.
Blue eyes narrowed, the hunter muttered, "No. He's…fine."
I watched this all with complete confusion. "What's going on?"
Jet shrugged. "Ask our little hostage."
The hunter just stood and went to the bookshelf to poke around. "It's a hunter thing. Not important."
Jet laughed. "I'm going to go get the pretty one. He will love this."
I watched the cat leave the room. "What the heck is he yammering about now?"
Ryan was watching Van, a deep crease furrowing his brow, while he shook out his tingling hands. "I have no idea."
Van didn't look at either of us. "You said there were more magic books?"
I sighed and went to get one out from under the plant stand by the window. I don't know why I thought I should hide them. But it just seemed like a good idea at the time. Black witch magic books seemed like something you didn't leave lying out in plain sight.
