He didn’t have the words to describe this or how terrifying it was. His thoughts skittered away from certain topics, while parts of last night were a complete blank. He couldn’t remember going out to dinner or having a drink.
He couldn’t remember anything.
Then his phone buzzed. Blinking, he pulled it out and looked at the screen. It was a text message from none other than Kera.
Christian read it, and his mouth dropped open. He could not keep himself from responding out loud. “What the hell?”
Kera sat at the small dining table in the warehouse she had converted into an apartment. She was perfectly still, and her eyes were fixed on the screen of her phone—specifically, on the message she’d sent to Christian about two minutes ago.
She sighed, read it to herself for the sixth time, and wondered if she had made the right choice.
Christian,
I want you to know that I have no hard feelings about what you said last night. It was still good catching up with you, and sometime in the future, I’d like us to be friends. But I don’t think I can do that right now. Not for a while. I need some time.
Take care, Kera
She’d performed the memory-wipe spell enough times by this point to be confident that it had worked. It was still difficult to control how many of a person’s recollections she deleted, so she tended to err on the side of caution. In this case, she’d asked the miraculous forces to intervene in his memories somewhere before he’d noticed her.
Confusing Cevin had been one thing—a very temporary way to keep him out of danger. Wiping the memories of the gangbangers hadn’t bothered her, either. They’d been trying to kill her, after all.
But this…this was far more personal, and it made her feel vaguely sick to her stomach.
She couldn’t think of any way around it, however. Christian would always have his friends’ backs—and his girlfriend’s back. He wouldn’t let her go into danger without help and support.
This meant that if she kept trying to date him and use her powers, he was going to get hurt eventually. To pretend otherwise was to put his life in danger. Even if she managed to keep him from trying to help her, the odds were good that the gangs would track him down.
She refused to be the reason for his painful death. She wasn’t going to be able to forgive herself for asking him out or for getting him embroiled in this mess when she knew there was something weird going on, but at least she’d done the right thing now.
Funny how the phrase “the right thing” made her want to scream, cry, and vomit everywhere. She didn’t think she would ever forgive someone who had wiped her memory for her own safety.
But it was probably better if Christian never forgave her.
In the meantime, it was better if Christian thought he was the one who’d called this off. If he—and Ted—believed Kera had called things off, they might hang around and refuse to accept defeat.
No, it was better if she dropped off of Chris’ radar for the foreseeable future. So many things could go wrong, and she wasn’t sure she had it in her to make sure they went right.
Kera stood, left her phone on the table, and trudged over to the refrigerator. She was always hungry these days. Even now that she had learned how to channel magic only when doing a spell, she was still using an incredible amount of energy.
Like any athlete, she needed to replenish that energy. She’d dropped a lot of weight quickly and wanted to get things back under control. The first stop on that train was ensuring her ribs did not stick out anymore.
She opened the fridge door, pulled out three armloads of food one by one, and took it all back to the table. About half of it was leftover Korean and Italian food made for her by Mrs. Kim. The rest was an amalgamation of grocery store stuff and leftover takeout. She put some of it in the microwave and started eating some of it cold.
To her consternation, she could not keep her mind from drifting back to Christian.
After she’d mind-wiped him, she had promised herself that she would come clean and tell him the truth of what was going on. Perhaps explain it at dinner with the Kim family to put him at ease and so they could back her up.
But…no. That was how she wanted things to be. She had to act on the way things really were. She was dabbling in powers most people had never heard of and had taken the plunge into a world most people didn’t understand. The Kims knew some of it, and they were willing to stand back.
She couldn’t let others get hurt on her behalf.
It was the smart decision, whether she liked it or not.
Her phone buzzed to tell her she had a text, and her gut tightened when she glanced at the screen. It was Christian.
Scowling, she opened the message and read. Christian was confused as to what she meant, but he was restrained and respectful, asking for clarification and agreeing that he held no hard feelings, either.
Kera’s hand balled into a fist. If he’d been a dickhead about it, cutting him off would have been easier.
She started typing a response.
Christian, you told me you didn’t think it would work out. I can understand why you wouldn’t want to...
She stopped, deleted everything, and thought it over.
Christian, you don’t have to play nice. I know you’re not interested in me. Maybe you’re having second thoughts, but...
She deleted that, too.
“Ugh.” Kera sighed and rubbed her face. She left the phone sitting where it was and went back to her meal. Proper nutrition might be exactly what she needed right now.
By the time eighty or so percent of the food was gone, she was crying. Again.
Dammit, this wasn’t fair. She knew it was the right decision, so why couldn’t she make her heart understand that? She had no desire to spend the rest of her life alone, yet the way things had been going, having people close to her was an invitation to catastrophe.
Kera exhaled and looked at the rest of the food. She didn’t really feel like eating, but she needed all the calories she could get. The important thing was to do what had to be done.
Not what she wanted to do.
Kera tossed her phone on the far side of her bed, where it slid under her pillow, and tore into the last of her private banquet, staring at the far wall.
Chapter Two
“What happened the other night,” Pauline Smith said, “was unacceptable. Not to mention embarrassing.”
Johnny Torrez kept his face stony, but the muscles along his jaw tightened. His black hair was slicked back, and his fingers drummed on the table. He adjusted his tie. He was of average height and lean build, and he had learned long ago that it generally suited his purposes if people underestimated his intelligence.
For instance, Pauline had recently decided that Johnny’s handling of a business rival had been insufficient and sloppy. She had taken on the planning role in an attempt to show him and the two other members of their team that she had what it took to lead and he did not.
Her own efforts had also failed miserably; several groups of local gang members had fought a single member of the LA Witches at her instigation and failed to take her out.
Johnny wished they’d managed to take the little bitch out, but he knew it was good in the long run for Pauline to see that she wasn’t more competent than he was. He wasn’t failing at an easy task, as she had first assumed.
An unexpected side effect of the whole thing was that he was developing a certain respect for Pauline. He’d thought she was a lunatic in the early days of this gang, insisting they wear suits, going after yuppie office workers, but it turned out she had more of a bloodthirsty streak than he’d guessed.
“We need to act decisively,” Pauline said and raised her chin. “As the newest group, we are a convenient scapegoat for the other gangs, so they have decided to blame the LA Witches’ ascendance on us. Accordingly, they are doing everything in their power to keep a low profile and have informed us that they will not help.”
Johnny glowered
. Beside him, Lia and Sven looked like they thought they should say something, but they weren’t sure what.
“We knew this would not be easy,” Pauline told them. “A new social order always faces resistance. I simply did not believe it would start so soon. If anything, I see this as an indication of our success.”
Johnny’s eyebrows shot up. Every time he thought Pauline was making sense, she managed to throw a little extra crazy into the mix.
“We knew we would need to show the city what we can do.” Pauline was standing taller now. Her eyes were shadowed from lack of sleep, but she did not allow her exhaustion to creep into her posture or speech. “We have the opportunity to do that now. We face an enemy all of the other gangs know they cannot defeat. We will defeat them and establish ourselves at the top of the hierarchy. Is that understood?”
Everyone nodded.
“So, what is Step 1?” Pauline asked them.
She was waiting for a specific answer.
“Research?” Lia tried finally.
“Yes. We need information about what these LA Witches can do and what works against them.” Pauline crossed her arms. “So…”
“So we find some cannon fodder and see what works,” Johnny said bluntly.
Pauline smiled.
“Where are we going to find cannon fodder?” Sven objected. “The other gangs won’t work with us.”
“None of the top ones,” Johnny said. “But there are always a few wannabe-badasses who need a little extra cash.”
Pauline nodded. “Exactly. I want a list from each of you with ten suggestions for tactics or technology to try against the LA Witches. Johnny, you will be in charge of recruitment. Dismissed, everyone.”
Doug Lopez and Mia Angel sat in his office, reviewing their photos of the ravaged street corner they had seen the night before in South Park, somewhat east of the LA Convention Center. The whole street had been pretty well trashed. The damage was not quite up to the level of a major riot or a warzone, but it was bad enough that he felt sorry for the homeowners and the business proprietors in the immediate area. The gang had stormed down the road, wrecking things and causing general mayhem, only to be confronted by a certain enthusiast of two-wheeled motor vehicles.
The fight appeared to have been pretty one-sided. Motorcycle Man had been drawn into an ambush, which had turned into a brawl, which had turned into a massacre.
By the time they arrived—after circling back around from their semi-successful car chase—the police and the EMTs had converged on the scene and were carting away injured gang members by the dozen.
“It was way more people than we should have seen,” Doug said finally. He leaned back in his chair and tapped his pen on the desk. “I’m wondering if, rather than the normal back-and-forth between rival gangs, this is a situation where all the local gangs are—har har—ganging up on Motorcycle Man. Like, he’s declared war on crime in Batman-esque fashion, so they’ve formed an alliance to obliterate him.”
Mia glared at her partner. “Couldn’t you have come up with that brilliant insight before I was ninety percent done drafting the article?”
“Meh.” He gave an elaborate shrug. “We’ll save it for the next one. There’s no way this is the end of the line on this. Motorcycle Man wasn’t one of the people they carted out, which means he’s still out there—which means those people have a serious grudge now.”
One of their photographers had been passing by as Doug spoke, and he popped his head into the room.
“This shit is getting crazy, man,” He said. “Like, every time I see someone in a black leather biker’s outfit now, I wonder if it’s Motorcycle Man.”
“Yeah, I think we all are.” Mia shrugged. “Part of the fun, right? Is it one guy? Is it a whole group dressing the same?”
“The other day,” Duane went on, ignoring her, “I saw this super hot chick—like, with a figure that should not be allowed in tight black leather for the sake of other people’s health—at this convenience store downtown. I spent some time wondering if it was her.”
Doug looked up. Generally, Duane’s commentary wasn’t required listening, but anything that might point them toward Motorcycle Man was worth consideration.
The photographer went on. “I mean, yeah, I know it’s not her, but wouldn’t that be fuckin’ cool? Superheroine biker chick, all, like, photogenic and shit? Man!”
Doug sighed. It appeared this was not going to be useful, after all. He forced a smile as Duane wandered off, then rolled his eyes at Mia.
To his surprise, she looked thoughtful.
“Do you remember,” she began, snapping her fingers, “at the hostage situation at that condo, the kid said something about the biker guy’s chest being all padded?”
“Uh…” Doug looked blank, then, “Sure? Yeah, okay, I remember that.”
“Duane might be on to something,” Mia told him seriously. “Our vigilante might be a woman who dresses down to conceal what she looks like, including her figure.”
“I mean, could be.” Doug ruminated on it, scratching his ear. “This person can lift cars, jump into and out of burning buildings from the second or third story, and take out small armies of gang members single-handed in personal combat. As far as I’m concerned, nothing is impossible at this point.”
Mia nodded. “Yeah. Pretty sure you guys' Y-chromosome doesn’t grant you that much more upper-body strength.”
“Usually not,” Doug admitted. “So, that’s a new wrinkle, but does it equate to an actual lead?”
His partner scrunched her face. “Duane!” she shouted. “Could you come back here for a sec?”
After a moment, the photographer poked his head back into the room, looking pleased with himself. “Yeah?”
Mia asked, “This female biker you saw. Do you remember where the place was?”
“Uhh,” he began, “a Korean grocery store downtown, near Little Tokyo. Umm. Kim’s, I think it was called?”
Doug scowled. “That’s one of the most common Korean surnames, so it might not narrow it down much. Still, thanks.”
Duane returned to his work, and Doug started typing quickly on his laptop. “I’m on it. Doing a search in Koreatown would be Needle-in-a-Haystack Central, but in the area he described, we might have a shot at it. Hopefully, Duane wasn’t too stoned when it happened.”
The other journalist shrugged. “More things in Heaven and Earth...”
Chapter Three
Kera hurried along the sidewalk. Part of her wished she was riding Zee, but she needed to work off some nervous energy, and it was probably best not to take the chance of being recognized as Motorcycle Man.
She had made the decision to keep Chris at arm’s length, but that left a lot of other questions. Unable to answer them on her own, she decided to go to people she knew had some knowledge of the world she was now a part of.
The Kims.
The bell rang as Kera pushed through the shop’s front door. It was an unassuming place, clean and welcoming, not as well-stocked as a full-sized store, but sufficient for most people’s needs. Behind the counter was Sam, Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s only son, who was sixteen.
“Hi, Kera,” he called. “Here to buy something, or did you want to talk to my mom and dad?” He was blushing and obviously trying not to stare too hard at her.
Kera smiled at him gently. It had been clear for some time now that he had a crush on her, and she didn’t want to make him feel any more awkward than he already did. After all, she remembered the hell of being a teenager all too well.
“Hi, Sam. Yeah, I was hoping to talk to your parents. Are they around?”
Before the boy could answer, his father appeared from the rear hall. “Kera! Hello. I overheard. What do you want to talk about? I will have to watch the store soon so Sam can do his homework, but I have a little while. Ye-Jin is here also. She’s doing okay, more or less.”
Kera nodded. “Sounds good.” She waved at Sam as she went by. He blushed harder and waved back.
&n
bsp; Kera followed Mr. Kim down the short, dark hallway into the family’s living area.
There was a staircase leading to their quarters on the second floor, as well as a back door that opened onto a courtyard with an outbuilding. The whole domicile was cozy if minimalistic, with potted plants in almost every corner.
Mr. Kim gestured at the stairs. “Ye-Jin is resting, but she will be happy to see you. We will talk first, then perhaps you can train with her.”
Kera smiled. “I’d like that.” Mrs. Kim had helped her hone her proficiency in martial arts, which was allowing Kera to take on gangs without relying entirely on magic. Using magic all the time would make her lose more weight than she could afford.
They climbed the staircase and found Mrs. Kim lying on her couch.
The older woman’s face lit up. “Kera! Hello.”
Kera went over to the couch and took Mrs. Kim’s hand, clasping it and feeling its warmth—as well as trying to sense the woman’s level of health. It seemed that the work they had done two weeks ago to reverse the progress of her cancer had helped a great deal.
Mr. Kim brought two chairs over and sat in one, gesturing for Kera to take the other. “What did you want to talk about?” he asked.
Kera paused. She didn’t want to sound ridiculous, but there was only one way to say this. “The rest of my life,” she said bluntly. “I…well, you might say I’m trying to come to terms with something. I don’t think I can have a normal existence if I’m going to embrace my abilities. I feel like I’m heading into something I’m totally unprepared for. I don’t want to bring up bad memories, but I was wondering if you could tell me more about what happened to you back in the old world.”
How To Be A Badass Witch: Book Three Page 2
