by R. L. Wilson
He glares at Momma, who is in full freak-out mode. She is gasping, and wheezing, like an asthmatic patient in need of an inhaler. He smiles at Momma, fangs bared. Her eyes shoot wide open, bloodshot red.
“How much are you willing to pay to be free?”
Chapter 6
I scan my keychain, locating my pink house key. The sound of rap music blasts in the background. I know Morgan is still home. She’ll be shocked when she sees I’m still here. I’m not going to run away. I refuse to let Prentiss win.
The distant scent of chocolate floats from the kitchen. Music blares and I don't want to sneak up on Morgan. I go farther into the kitchen and view Morgan dancing while stirring brownie mix in a large bowl. Morgan couldn’t buy rhythm, but she continues trying to dance. Her multicolored socks glide across the floor as she shakes her ass while I bust out laughing and cut the radio off.
She’s swift to turn and, at the sight of me, she drops the spoon to the floor. Her eyes bulge, large as saucers. She stutters, “Didn’t you escape? What are you doing here?”
I plop in a chair, sliding my suitcase on the floor. I’d toted this suitcase enough today. My eyes are heavy and my hands sore. I yawn and stretch my hands then rest my elbow on the wooden kitchen table.
“I’m not going. I’m staying here with my friends and Momma.”
“What, Harmony? Is this a joke? We agreed it’s best. Are you going to risk your life?” Snarling, she grabs another spoon from the drawer and continues beating the brownie mix.
“I have to find another way, Morgan.” I don’t want to argue; I’m sleepy. I want to run away from my racing thoughts of Prentiss hurting me or my family. I want to tell her everything he said, but I can’t bring myself to.
“I went to Momma’s house and Prentiss showed up.” She stops stirring the brownies and rests the bowl on the counter.
“What did he say?” she mutters, her hands balling into fists.
“He said he knows I took off the collar and not to try to leave.”
She slams her fist into the countertop. “Dammit, he can’t control your life! We have to stop him.” She shoots me a look. “What do you want to do?”
This the first time she’s asked me what I wanted. She means well, but she can be controlling. Scott and Morgan say it’s a good idea for me to leave. I’m not sure it’s the best decision for me. I built my life in Detroit; Momma is here.
“I want to be liberated, but Prentiss has control over me.”
“What are your options? Going to the police?” She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow in my direction.
She knows that’s not a real option.
“What a joke.” I roll my eyes. “He has the police under a spell.”
Even police officers presume Prentiss is a wonderful person. And he loves Silver Park. Prentiss gives out food and clothes to the super-naturals in need. This is all a part of his mask; all his activities are illegal, but no one notices. Everyone turns a blind eye.
I bite my bottom lip out of frustration at not being able to do anything. I’m imprisoned and at Prentiss’s beck and call. He summons me whenever he needs. Even in the middle of the night—it doesn’t matter.
Morgan grabs a pan from the cupboard and fills it with brownie batter before sliding it in the oven. “You can keep working for him until you save more money. Then vanish in the middle of the night,” Morgan suggests.
I sigh and shrug. “None of these ideas sounds good, and neither helps me get my freedom.”
“Maybe you’re right, we do need another plan. But I’m concerned.” She shakes her head and points to my tattoo.
“Why?”
She takes a seat at the table then grabs her box of cigarettes. “Harmony, I’m serious.” She grabs a lighter and lights a cigarette. “Something about the tattoo is not right.” She takes a puff, then tilts her head back and blows the smoke to the ceiling.
“In the past, I’ve seen professionals regarding this tattoo. The Shaman told me it’s nothing alarming.” I rest my head on my hand. I’m relieved Morgan stopped speaking about my options, considering it’s hopeless.
I reposition myself in the chair as my eyes widen. I have a great idea.
“Know who will help? With ideas and options on getting my freedom.”
“Who?” Morgan asks.
“Kato.”
She shoots a death stare at me, exhales, and puts her cigarette in the ashtray. “The crazy Voodoo Priest?” Her face wrinkles in distaste.
I put my hand on my forehead. “He’s not crazy, maybe different but not crazy.” He is cute to me; maybe weird because he did Voodoo, but hell, I’m a witch. He had the cutest smile and a nice smell. Whenever he came to mind, I relaxed.
“It’s not safe to talk to him, but if you really think he can help, then I’m on board.”
I press my lips together, holding back the words I want to blurt out. It’s not her decision, and I don’t need her to be on board. I want to scream “I don’t give a damn what you say I’m going to meet him, anyway.”
“The main goal: take down Prentiss.” Then, I reclaim my life.
“If we don’t succeed at beating Prentiss That blood-sucking vampire won’t let you out of his bite easily.”
The smell of chocolate curls underneath the cracks in the oven. My mouth waters thinking about the enormous portion I’m about to eat.
“True, but if I rid myself of this curse, he would have no use for me.”
Morgan’s face turns bright red as a beet. Her eyes dance around the room. She grabs her glass, lifting it in the air. “Cheers.”
I don’t believe there’s anything we can do. That’s where Kato comes in. Plan A, take down Prentiss. Plan B, rid myself of the curse.
Chapter 7
The next morning, I want to see Kato. I have tons of questions for him. How will this work? Yeah, I want to get rid of the curse and Prentiss, but I don’t want him to endure any extreme pain. I don’t want Kato to make any Voodoo dolls of anyone. I just want him to go far away. Somewhere cold. Alaska, perhaps.
I leave the apartment and head toward the cafe where I met Kato. Maybe he hangs out there. The birds chirp above my head, so I pick up the pace. I had a bird shit on my head once before and it wasn’t a good experience.
The last time Kato appeared, stating I called him. The unfortunate side of being an untrained witch is I don’t know how to use my magic. That makes it easier to be a target and be taken advantage of. I know I can heal and see sickness with supernaturals but Dad told me before he died there is far more to my magic than healing. I just have to tap into all of my magic. He was going to start training on my sixteenth birthday but he died when I was thirteen so I never got trained.
“Kato, Kato,” I call out.
My intention is to contact Kato somehow. He said he’d find me when he knew something, but I can’t wait. I need to see him now.
My shoes scrape against the gravel as I stomp down the street. My footsteps are loud; it’s almost as if someone traveled alongside me. I cut my eyes left and Kato is there, wearing a big grin on his face, showing his white teeth. I giggle because I’m nervous. He wears neon colors and mismatched shoes.
Like a genie in a bottle, he appears out of thin air.
“How do you do that?”
He shrugs, standing far enough away I can’t feel the essence of his presence. “I’m blessed with the magic of appearing,” he explains.
“Where were you going when you called me?”
“Snooping for you.”
“Wanna go to the ice cream parlor?” Kato asked.
“Sure.” It’s hot and muggy outside, ice cream is needed to cool off. I brush my blonde locks behind my ear. Super-naturals love ice cream—at least the dragons do. I always thought it cooled their breath.
The ice cream parlor is in Night Heights. Sixty-two flavors and they have the best custard. I try my hardest not to be mesmerized by Kato’s sexy bedroom eyes. This is business. He’s going to help me get rid of th
e curse. But his smooth skin and muscular build are making this hard.
By the time we get to the sixties-themed parlor, I’m nearly melting from the humidity. There’s a jukebox in the corner playing rock-and-roll, and several miniature statues of guys with slick hair holding guitars.
I catch a whiff of the baked cookies. The scent gets stronger until I have to order one. I’m trying to watch my figure, but what the hell. The cookies won’t hurt too much.
We get to the counter to order ice cream and Kato orders black walnut. Who the hell orders black walnut? I order a rocky road and my cookies.
We gather our scoops of ice cream and find a booth. The parlor is half full, unusual for the summer months. Usually, teenagers hang out here. They overcrowd the place and leave no seats available. Not today.
I take a lick of the lumpy-textured chocolate-flavored ice cream and close my eyes. I want to scream this ice cream is so good. The excitement must show upon my face.
“You love rocky road, I see,” Kato says.
I smile and wipe the excess ice cream from my face. “Yeah, I do.”
Two guys trot past our table and scrunch their noses, showing obvious distaste. Kato sticks out like a sore thumb in Night Heights. He dresses weird, but he has a great heart. I notice it but I don’t care. I haven’t gotten dirty stares since high school.
“Have you thought about this?”
“What?” I spoon more ice cream and shove it in my mouth. I haven’t had rocky road in years.
“If you can’t do magic, who are you? People admire you because you heal the sick.”
His question holds my heart hostage. I lean back and scratch my head. I’m Harmony, but being able to heal has been a part of my identity for the past couple of years. Since I found out I was a witch.
“Are you sure you want this?” He grabs a spoonful of ice cream. He holds the spoon in his hand, waiting for a response.
I’m certain I want freedom from this curse. But who will I be? Harmony with the same goals, just not able to heal anymore. Goals of a better job and being completely independent. My life would be better.
“Is the collar the reason you’re stuck with Prentiss? Or something else?”
“It’s the only thing holding me to Prentiss. You believe I’d associate myself with him if he didn’t have this curse hanging over my head?”
He looks around to make sure no one is within earshot. “I want you to consider every aspect. I believe your curse is a key component to who you really are.” His tone rough and stern, I wasn’t scared but shocked. I’m sure I want this. Freedom is near; I can smell and taste it.
“I’ll take the chance.”
“Okay,” he exhales. “I’ll put a curse on you. You can no longer heal anyone. All of your magic will cease.”
What is he talking about? The only magic I have is healing. I’m fine with another magic stopping, because there is no other.
“If, after a few trial days, you are sure this what you want, I will do everything in my power to rid you of this curse. But if you aren’t, I will do everything in my power to help you uproot Prentiss in an effort to make you and your family safe.”
Chapter 8
Pushing myself to keep my eyes open, I grab the basket full of fries from the oil. I empty the fries in the warmer and scan the room to make sure no one’s watching. I grab my cup of coffee from the counter and take a gulp. I don’t know why they make the coffee so damn hot; I like mine piping hot, but not scorching. Someone could burn their tongue. I put the small cup of coffee back on the shelf underneath the register. Management hates when you eat or drink on the clock.
The heat from the fryer bought a raging sweat across my face. My legs are throbbing in pain from standing on them for hours. I had a long night. I let out an aggravated huff, not sure I’ll make it through this shift. I’m fatigued. I get back to the register and hand the brunette her food, but the weird thing is I can’t read her. I don’t understand what she’s thinking, I don’t know if she’s sick internally. A jigsaw puzzle I can’t put together.
I can’t feel her energy. I never realized how much energy I got from super-naturals. The world is dull and fuzzy.
“Harmony, snap out of it.” Shayna snaps her fingers in front of my face. I’m caught in a daydream or nap. I shake my head and yawn.
“Did you have a long night? Get to work before Terry catches you,” Shayna pleads.
I glance at Shayna and nod. Shayna is human, and nice. I can’t tell what she’s thinking either. Her uniform shirt is dingy. I can’t even read her facial expression. Everything is washed out. Shayna and I have been coworkers for months now. She’s always had my back. She is a single mother and works all the overtime she could.
Does everybody see what I see? I rub my eyes and glare at my next customer. He has on the largest cowboy hat I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t tell if he’s human or supernatural. I use to have a sixth sense for this.
The smell of cheap cologne floats through the air, and I know Terry will turn the corner any minute. He piles the cologne on heavy. He’s trying to find a wife at Burger King, I guess. Fifty, with no kids or wife. What a dull life. If he weren’t such a tight-ass, maybe he wouldn’t be single.
Terry creeps past my register as I take the order of the man in the big hat. The customer grimaces and I can’t tell if he is in pain or deciding what he wants to order. My sixth sense is worse than I thought.
“I’ll take a large Coke,” he says, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a brown wallet.
I twist around to get the Coke. Then slip and land flat on my ass. Who the hell mopped the floor in the middle of the day? A sharp pain kicks in. I’m tired. I could lie here and go to sleep.
Shayna comes over and extends her hand. “Harmony, are you okay?” I watch her shoulders sink and a grim expression of concern crosses her eyes. I hop to my feet and see the yellow caution sign. I swear it wasn’t there before.
“I’m fine.” I didn’t need any help, though I shook with embarrassment.
Before I could finish making the Coke, Terry is calling my name. He wants me to fill out an incident report, but it’s not a big deal. It’s a little bump.
I hesitate before going to Terry’s office. I don’t want a lecture. As I head down the hall, I try to come up with an excuse. I will tell the truth: I didn’t know the floor was wet. Terry is the safety police. Always insisting everyone wears a hairnet, skid-resistant shoes, and gloves.
Tapping on the door makes my knees buckle. Here goes nothing.
“Come on in, it’s open.”
Twisting the knob, I think about running out of the back door. I’m too tired for bullshit today.
“Before you go on your tangent, I didn’t know the floor was wet.” I stand next to his desk with my hand resting on my hip.
“No, Harmony, have a seat.” He closes his laptop then takes off his glasses.
He looked serious. This is more than filling out the incident form. The room gets smaller and warmer. I fidget with my hands and take a seat in the chair in front of his desk.
He lets out a sigh and rubs his eyes. This is worse than I thought. What could be this bad?
“Harmony, it saddens me to say this.” He wipes the sweat from his brow.
I tap my foot on the floor “Say what?” My bottom lip quivers. My heart has stopped. Is he going to fire me? Can’t be.
“You have been distracted at work, leaving in the middle of your shifts, and let’s not count the number of times you’ve been late.” He darts his gaze toward the wall.
He can’t look at me. Although all those things are true, I do my job.
“Terry, are you serious?” My blood is boiling.
He eyeballs me. “Harmony, you’re a good worker.” He clears his throat. “When you are here, and not distracted. But lately, I don’t know what’s going on with you. Are you having problems at home?”
“No, Terry, I can do my job.” My eyes widen as the heat rises in my cranium. One of my vessels
will pop any minute. “I need this job; I have bills to pay.”
“I will give you one more chance, Harmony.” He narrows his brown eyes on mine. “One more screw up and you are out of here. Consider yourself warned.”
Fighting back tears, I nod my head. “Thank you.”
I exhale after holding my breath for what seems like an eternity. I slide the chair back and scurry out of his office. I stand in the hall and take a deep breath as the tightness in my chest decreases. That was a close one.
I gawk in sheer horror, watching Family Feud as one player gives the dumbest answer. If I were a contestant on Family Feud I’d win. I know the answers, but I don’t have enough family for the show.
I lay on the couch with my feet propped up. The heels of my feet hurt almost as much as my ass. My plan is to relax tonight. I’m home alone, so it’s peace and quiet.
The doorbell rings. Damn, who the hell is that? Morgan has a key. I’m going to lie here and pretend no one is home.
Bam. bam.
Now the asshole knocks at the door. My grip around the remote control tightens as I try to remind myself that whoever is at the door is here for Morgan. And she is not home.
“I’'m coming.”
I sigh and rise to my feet. Passing the four-foot tall plant in the corner makes me sneeze—it’s Morgan’s house plant she refuses to get rid of. I unlock the door prepared to say Morgan’s not here. But it’s Scott, with a contorted face.
I couldn’t tell if he is happy or sad. But he is fidgety, tugging at his sleeves. He slips past me and take a seat in Morgan’s recliner.
“Come on in, Scott,” I snicker sarcastically. So much for my quiet evening.
I take a seat back on the couch and slide the remote control on the coffee table.
“Where’s Morgan?” he says.
“She has not come home yet.”
Scott takes off his black jacket and lets the recliner back. “Can you believe I’m going to be a dad?”
