Witches & Stitches

by Beverly Sanders

  Thick steam billowed from the open grates as we headed toward the seemingly empty building. For the most part, Old Towne looked to be pretty abandoned, with nothing more than a few stray cats sulking in the shadows.

  I’d never done anything like this before. I’d never sneaked around in the middle of the night like some cat burglar peeking in through windows. I was just a girl, a witch, but still just a girl.

  “It’s open,” I said, motioning to a large bat door near the edge of the building.

  “Follow behind me,” Nicco said, stepping ahead of me. I placed my hands on his thick shoulders. A dense heat emanated from him, a clear indicator that his Lycan side was on high alert. This was about to get interesting . . .

  11

  “You know,” Babbs whispered as we walked through the large door, “even though there’s a pretty good chance we’ll die or whatever, I’ve never felt sexier.”

  “You know,” Nicco spoke up. “I’m kinda feeling it too.”

  “You!” Babbs came to a full stop. “Well, of course you are. Look at yourself. I mean, just look!”

  “Babbs!” I whispered, throwing a hard elbow into her stomach. “We can’t go through this again. Focus!”

  “Right . . .”

  You know how sometimes, you walk into somewhere and immediately get this bad feeling, like you shouldn’t be there or that something awful took place there and the memories still haven’t found their way out? Well, that’s about the best way I can describe the uneasy feeling I got as my feet pressed hard against the concrete floor.

  The soft creek of metal swaying in the wind cut through the still air, echoing through the large and nearly empty building. Goosebumps ran up and down my arms. The thick metallic smell of burned tin and smoldering embers wafted past me, letting me know someone else had recently been there. My hand wrapped Nicco’s thick forearm, the pulsating blood of his thick, bulging veins rhythmically dancing across my palm.

  “There’s someone here,” Nicco whispered. “Maybe more than one person.”

  “Where?” I asked. “I don’t see anything.”

  “I don’t see it. I feel it.” He pulled me closer.

  Then, just like the calm before the storm, everything fell eerily silent for a few moments. My pulse quickened, my pupils dilated, and my heart began to race as the sound of a loud screeching scream pierced through the silence. I’d never heard anything like it. It was more than sound. It was a feeling, something that resonated throughout my entire body.

  “What was that?” Babbs cupped her palms over her ears.

  “A Greylock,” Nicco said. “They know we’re here.”

  There it was, Nicco’s werewolf side. I could feel it springing to life, trying to break through, to claw its way to the surface in order to protect me, to protect Babbs. I knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it at bay for long, not unless the sound stopped, not unless the Greylock demons quieted down. Another scream ripped through the silence, causing Nicco to lunge forward, his eyes glowing a bright green.

  “Nicco!” I said, stepping closer to him. “Wait!”

  I wasn’t sure how vicious Greylock demons were. I knew little about them. But what I did know was just how fierce a werewolf could be. Not that I’d ever had a run-in with them myself, but I knew quite a few girls who couldn’t seem to stay away from their all-too-often hot bodies only to regret it later.

  Nicco was the sweetest guy in the world, kind and strong, but that was Nicco. I’d never seen him transform into a wolf. I’d never come face-to-face with his Lycan side. One thing I knew, though . . . I wanted to keep it that way.

  But like most well-laid plans, that really didn’t work out. It took one final scream, this one closer than the other two, to send Nicco’s pulse across the line. The ground shook and the concrete cracked as the large, scaly demon dropped from the ceiling, landing hard in front of us. The sight of him, his sharp teeth dripping with a thick red liquid, caused Nicco to lunge forward, tearing away from me.

  His body morphed and his bones popped as he turned into a full-fledged werewolf in front of my eyes. He was massive, three times the size of any wolf I’d ever seen. Thick fur, glowing with a green haze, covered every inch of him. He howled loudly, lunging forward and colliding with the demon.

  “Come on!” I said, grabbing Babbs by the arm and heading for the small office in the corner. My fingers interlocked with hers as we ran full-speed into the room, slamming the door behind us.

  “Oh, my,” Babbs gasped.

  I turned to see a large cage, and inside were three other Greylock demons, each one in a deep sleep, one I knew was magically induced. They wouldn’t wake, at least not without the right incantation.

  “Why are they caged?” Babbs asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I have no idea why you’d want to keep one of these things. I can’t even imagine how you’d capture them. They’re masters of trickery. Kind of like those little green guys who chase rainbows.”

  “Leprechauns?” Babbs asked.

  “Yeah,” I replied.

  “Well . . . if someone were to capture a leprechaun, they get their pot of gold.” She narrowed her eyes. “What is it these guys have?”

  “I . . . I don’t know,” I said, hearing a loud clash of metal and bone followed by a long silence. “What was that?”

  “Nicco!” Babbs said, snapping her fingers. The door to the office flew off its hinges, slamming hard against the far wall.

  We ran back into the middle of the building to see Nicco lying on the ground, breathless, the Greylock demon lifeless next to him.

  We didn’t bother cleaning up. It was gross and we were ready to leave . . .

  “So you decided the best thing to do was to just march into danger like a lost child?” my father snapped. It hadn’t occurred to me just how upset he’d be at the thought of me following my lead on that demon. To my credit, however, I was right. Everly’s tip had been correct. There were Greylock demons there.

  “I was looking for the warlock,” I said.

  “Yet you didn’t find one?”

  “Well, no. But can you think of a reason for those things to be there, and to be in a magically induced sleep? It has to be a warlock. Probably the same one that killed Elle. I have to find him, Dad. I have to!”

  “No,” he snapped, his voice a deep baritone. “Not if it means getting yourself hurt.”

  “I didn’t get hurt.”

  “And what about Nicco?” he asked. “Can you say the same for Nicco?”

  “I didn’t realize the wolf side of him would have such a reaction to those things. Neither did he. But he’s fine, just a little bruised.”

  “It’s of little consequence,” he replied. “You took a mortal with you. She’s seen too much. The Council doesn’t like it.”

  “Babbs?” I asked. “Babbs isn’t your concern, and she certainly isn’t the concern of the Council. She can outcast most of the girls in Enchanted Lake anyway.”

  “She shouldn’t know about our world, Ginni!”

  “I’m not the reason she knows!” I clapped back. “She’s been casting since she was five years old!”

  “We’re getting off track here.” He took a long breath. “My concern is you and you alone. I already have the Council pressuring me to come forward against you, to tell the youth of Enchanted Lake that I disapprove of your choices.”

  “And do you?” I asked.

  “Ginni.” He looked at me, his eyes a deep well of history, knowledge, and magic, most of which was far beyond my capabilities or even understanding. “It’s complicated. You know that. I love you and I support what makes you happy. I support your right to make your own choices. But magic is all I’ve ever known, and stepping away from it is stepping away from your roots. Not everyone understands that.”

  “I don’t need them to understand, Dad. This is a new world, a new time. Maybe change isn’t something the Council can avoid any longer.”

  “Don’t say that.” He sighed. “
If that’s true, then our way of life will cease to be, and if there’s no one to keep the tradition, to keep the magic, then . . . I don’t know what will happen. The Council doesn’t know how to survive that.”

  “It’s not like that, Dad. It’s not all or nothing. It’s not black and white. There’s an entire world of color out there and I’m gonna soak it up no matter what anyone says. I’m also gonna do everything I can to protect the things I care about. And that includes you.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I’m gonna find that warlock and hold him accountable for his crimes. And I’m going to live my dreams. I’m going to be a witch in the new world. I’m gonna prove them wrong!”

  In reality, it was probably no more than a few minutes, though it felt like an eternity. My father being at a loss for words was a rare occurrence, especially if I was the person on the other side of the conversation.

  “You remind me so much of your mother,” he said, his eyes fluttering away from me. “So headstrong, so steadfast. Once she made her mind up about something, there was no stopping her, no changing her mind or talking her down.”

  “I remember,” I said, a small sliver of truth in my words.

  She’d been gone for so long now, taken from me long before I was ready to let her go. Even for a witch, death is hard, and no amount of magic can reverse the pain you feel after losing someone that important to you.

  “I still remember the way her face just lit up the first time she saw you,” he said.

  My father was far from the sentimental type, but there were times, not too often and usually after we’d had a disagreement, when he would talk about her, about my mother. He never said it aloud, probably because he wanted to look strong, but he missed her terribly. For a lot of witch and warlock couples, marriage was just something to join magic, to set yourself up in the world with a better place, a stronger power at your back. But for my mom and dad, it was something else, something much simpler and more important than any of that. They’d married for love.

  “I can still feel her,” I said. “When I’m scared or alone, sometimes even when I’m really happy. I can feel her, just like she’s there watching me.”

  “I feel her too,” he answered.

  We spent the next little while under the city lights, the ones I’d come to love so much, the ones that, to my father, were probably just another mortal thing he didn’t care about. A sweet calm resonated from him, comforting and easy like the orange sunrise. I’m not sure when it happened, but I must have fallen asleep right there in his arms for the first time in years.

  I woke to find myself back in my bed, the morning light just beginning to peek across the hazy morning skyline. I took a deep breath, unsure for a moment whether it had all been real. I got up and headed to the living room where I found Nicco asleep on the couch, a large bandage running across his chest.

  It had been real . . .

  It would be easier to turn back, to forget everything and just go back to Enchanted Lake, and goodness knows this was one of those times when turning tail would probably be considered the wise move, even the right move.

  “What now?” Babbs asked from behind a large cup of coffee.

  “We sew,” I said. “We sew and we fight.”

  12

  “What do you think?” Babbs asked. “Belt or no belt?”

  She was talking about a pair of silver pants paired with a white leather jacket. We’d spent hours stitching the sleeves, piping them in a fiery red bold print, just enough to peek out from under the collar and sleeves. I loved the look as a whole, though I couldn’t help but feel it was missing something. I just wasn’t sure if that something was a belt.

  “I don’t know,” I said, pressing the belt against the pants then pulling it away again. “I don’t think this is the right belt. Maybe . . .”

  “It’s missing something,” Babbs mused, almost as though she were reading my mind. “I’m just not sure it’s a belt.”

  “Right.”

  “Maybe its just the shoes,” I said. “Maybe they’re wrong.”

  The truth was, I was having a difficult time focusing on anything at the moment. I couldn’t help but picture the Greylock demon, the warlock that killed Elle, and the judgmental eyes of the council members as they stared down at me from their respective perches. I wasn’t about to let that stop me, though. Not anymore. I’d wasted enough time fretting and worrying about things I couldn’t control. If a warlock wanted to fight me, he’d have to do it on the runway. He’d just better show up dressed for the occasion.

  “Screw this!” I snapped, tossing the belt aside. “This collection is missing something!”

  “What?” Babbs asked.

  “Magic!” I said. “Magic and the witches who possess it!”

  “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  I smiled. “I think I am.”

  One quick change of clothes and we were out the door . . .

  Second Buckhead was truly lovely in every way. I’d fallen in love with it after arriving, though over the last little while, I’d let myself get too busy to enjoy it. No more. My feet pounded the pavement as I gave my best runway walk. And to make it all the better, I had my best friend beside me. I felt the rush of wind in my hair and the sun on my face. I listened to the birds in the streets as shadows danced across the streets. I was letting myself breathe, finally.

  “Do you really think this is gonna work?” Babbs asked.

  “Oh!” I said. “It’ll work!”

  More than just the fact that it was filled to the brim with witches and warlocks, Second Buckhead just looked like a magical place. It felt like one too. The entire borough stretched out for miles around a large city center, one with a towering fountain. It took me a little longer than it probably should have to realize that the fountain somehow was fed by a stream from Enchanted Lake.

  But the schematics of magic weren’t why I’d come into the middle of my beloved borough. I’d come to gather a few friends, a few witch friends, in fact.

  “Hey, girl,” I said to Lilly Garner as I plopped myself down next to her. I’d met the girl a few times before, very sweet, tall as a tree, and as curvy as a backroad. She was gorgeous. And wouldn’t you know, she’d left her magical realm a few months before I’d left mine.

  “Hey, doll.” She smiled at me, her plump pink lips shining in the Georgia sun. “What’s up?”

  Where I’d found my love in fashion and design, Lilly had found hers in photography. Near about any time I stepped outside, I caught a glimpse of her walking past, her camera hanging around her neck. It wasn’t until meeting her that I’d given photography much thought. But after the girl finished explaining how much emotion was truly captured in a simple picture and how much they could mean, I kind of got where she was coming from.

  Much like fashion, photography is a skill, one you can never truly master, one that changes with every sunrise and again with every sunset. It’s in that change that a person’s passion is reborn, at least that’s what I’d always told people when they asked me why I sewed. I wasn’t lying. I wake up every morning with a new outlook—even if it’s just the smallest change, it’s a change nonetheless, right?

  “I was wondering about something.”

  “Oh, yeah?” She placed her camera on the table. “What’s that?”

  “I have this big fashion show coming up. There’s actually a practice runway later tonight. I’m sure you heard about the crazy warlock who killed my model, right?”

  “A little something about it,” she said, her head tilting back ever so slightly.

  “Right. Well, I’m still going to show at Fashion Week. I’ve worked too hard not to. But after everything I’ve been through in the last few days, I realized something. And that’s that I can’t run from magic. So I’m gonna embrace it.”

  “Sounds great,” she said. “But I don’t understand how I can help.”

  “I’ve decided not to send models down the ru
nway. Instead, my clothes are going to dress witches . . . and I want you to be one of them.”

  “Are you serious?” She leaned in, a huge smile painted across her face. “You want me to walk the runway in front of all those people?”

  “Will you?” I asked.

  “You’re damn right, I will!” she said. “An all-witch runway. Do you know what this means? Not only are you breaking the mold, but you’re creating a new one. You’re the face of change, Ginni. The face of acceptance in the new world!”

  “It’s not all that.” I tried to calm her. “It’s just a simple runway. A fashion show.”

  “It’s so much more than that!” she said.

  “She’s right, ya know,” Babbs spoke up. “This is a bigger deal than either of us thought. Especially for you. You’re really leaning into this whole Vanguard thing.”

  Of course they were right. I knew that. And sure, I went back and forth on my feelings about that more than a yo-yo, but this was my life and a girl’s got a right to change her mind, right? Still, though, I couldn’t get those young people out of my mind, the way I’d overheard them speaking about me when I was home in Enchanted Lake. I may have started this whole thing by accident, but I was going to finish it on purpose.

  A couple of hours later, with the help of Lilly and Babbs, I had an entire group of witches all ready and willing to show my clothes, each one different and unique in their own way, each one willing to help me prove myself. This was going to be amazing.

  It was finally time for the actual practice walk, and I had sewn nothing . . .

  “Because we can’t.” I looked to Nicco, his rippling muscles alive with motion as he pulled a red T-shirt over his head. “I didn’t sew these clothes with those girls in mind. Besides, that was before the whole witches on the runway thing. Now, it all just stands for something else. I have to start over.”