Midnight Magick

by Katerina Martinez

  No. It can’t have been Aaron; but it could’ve been one of his shitty friends.

  I knocked on the door to his apartment and rang the buzzer without pausing until he opened the door. His eyes lit up at the sight of me, at least until I stormed into his apartment and shoved the note in his face.

  “Which one of your fucking shitty friends decided this would be a good idea?” I said, nostrils flaring.

  “Why don’t you just relax and tell me what you’re talking about,” said Aaron.

  “This!” I smacked the note into his hand. Aaron read it.

  “I don’t know what this is,” said Aaron.

  “Bullshit! Your friends hear you call me freak all the time. I told you to cut it out, but you kept it up. Now look at what’s happening!”

  “And what’s happening, huh?” asked Aaron, sizing me up, jaw clenching.

  “Aaron, one of your friends is trying to kill me!”

  “How do you figure that? Because of this note?” Aaron crumpled the note and tossed it aside. “Get a grip. This is a prank, and one I have nothing to do with.”

  “A prank?” I asked, hands on my hips. His proximity excited me, but not in the way I wanted. “A week ago someone came at me with a knife. It took you to scare him off. Now I get this note nailed to my door and you expect me to believe this is all a big prank?”

  Aaron raised an index finger to my face. “I’m getting real sick and tired of this right now,” said Aaron, “I don’t see you in a week and then you show up at my house accusing me of shit I have nothing to do with—”

  “How fucking stupid are you, Aaron?” I shot, interrupting him, “Get it through your head, this is not a coincidence!”

  “Why the hell do you think someone’s trying to kill you?”

  I couldn’t tell him the truth. “Someone attacked me. Then the Sheriff comes to my place and tells me other people on my street have been attacked and badly hurt. Then I get this note on my door telling me I’m next. What do you think?”

  “But why would it be one of my friends? I’m not the only person to have called you freak in this town!”

  He was right, but I couldn’t think of anyone from my past who would want me dead. “Aaron, I don’t have time for this! You need to call your friends right now and find out what the hell they’re up to.”

  “And what do you suggest I do? You want me to ask them point blank if they’re trying to kill you?”

  “Would you?”

  “What?”

  “If I asked you to do that for me, would you?”

  Aaron gaped at me, clenching his jaw. “No,” he said.

  Stunned, my composure started to dribble away like a wet cake. “What? Why?”

  “You know what you’re doing. Don’t pretend like I’m stupid. I’m not gonna let myself get manipulated by you.” The vein on Aaron’s neck became visible. His chest started to heave.

  “Aaron,” I said, lowering my voice.

  He kept his gaze fixed on me, breathing, knuckles white.

  “Say something!”

  “Get out,” he said under his voice.

  My body began to tremble uncontrollably. “What?” I asked.

  Aaron threw his fist into the side of a fridge. The metal dented, bones cracked, Aaron screamed from the pain, and I fled—again.

  I dashed into my car—ignoring the stinging cold rain—and drove. By the time I reached Damien’s place he was standing in the hall with a towel in his hands ready to wrap me up. I threw myself into him and cried, exhausted.

  CHAPTER 37

  I warmed up quickly with the help of a warm cup of hot chocolate Damien prepared for me. The conversation with Aaron was still fresh in my mind. I could still hear the metal crunching under the strength of his fist.

  “Thank you,” I said, taking the mug between my cold hands and sipping the delicious drink within.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s happened?”

  Gravity pulled my eyes to the floor. I couldn’t keep them on him! Images of the blissful, fun night we had invaded my mind, impeding my ability to be serious with him. I had to through.

  “I thought I found out who the killer was,” I said.

  Damien remained quiet.

  “I found a note on my door. It said I was next…”

  “Who do you think the killer is?”

  “At first I thought it was one of Aaron’s friends, the guy from that night when we went to Joe’s. The ones who called me—”

  “I remember,” said Damien, interrupting. “But now you aren’t sure?”

  “I went to see Aaron and… I don’t know. He isn’t capable of something like that. And neither are any of his stupid friends.”

  “People are more than just skin deep.”

  I took another sip of my hot chocolate. Thunder rolled outside. The storm hadn’t let up since I left the woods.

  “Damien, I don’t know what to do,” I said, “Please… I need some guidance.”

  “Amber, I… the first thing we need to do is figure out who sent you that note. If it wasn’t one of Aaron’s friends then we’ve got no leads.”

  “Could you call Frank?” I asked, “Find out if he’s okay? If the note said I’m next, I don’t want to think…” I trailed off and dismissed the thought that someone else may be dead right now.

  A cold wind touched my face. Damien and I both glanced at the open window to the street in time to catch a raven perching on the ledge. I struggled to swallow. “This bird,” I said, “It’s been following me, I think.”

  Damien stood. I put the hot drink down and stood also, approaching the window with my hand stretched. The bird didn’t move, not until I was close enough to touch it. Then it dove into the street and into the darkened sky. I was about to turn to Damien again when I caught Aaron crossing the street toward our building. My heart jumped.

  “Shit, it’s Aaron,” I said.

  I quickly scrambled past Damien and made for the stairs intercepting Aaron as he was about to enter the building and blocking him with my body. The rain had let up.

  “Aaron, what are you doing here?”

  “Amber, I’m so—”

  Damien came into view behind me and Aaron shut up.

  “Him again?” asked Aaron, “Is he who you came to?”

  “Don’t bring him into this. I have nothing to say to you.”

  Aaron’s body language spoke volumes. Muscles tensing, fingers clenching and unclenching, jaw tightening. “I have plenty to say to you,” said Aaron. The Sheriff lunged at me and shoved me aside, grabbing Damien by the arm and tossing him into the street.

  Damien raised his forearm to block Aaron’s attack. Aaron went in for a jab to the gut but Damien hopped back to avoid the blow. I screamed at them to stop. A crowd formed. The pair locked into a grapple and hit the ground. Aaron shuffled his weight around and overpowered Damien’s slight frame.

  I rushed into the fray and grabbed Aaron’s arm to stop him from what he was about to do but he shoved me aside and launched a flurry of attacks, some of which Damien blocked, others which he didn’t.

  Like an eagle, soaring down from out of nowhere to grab a rodent, the Sheriff entered the picture. He grabbed Aaron by the neck and pulled him away from Damien, shoving Aaron into the arms of his Deputy who restrained riled up brawler.

  “Let me go, asshole!” yelled Aaron. His voice was half way between a guttural shout and a growl.

  Unexpectedly, Damien too was raised from the ground and cuffed.

  “What the hell?” I asked the Sheriff, “Why are you cuffing him?”

  “These two have caused a disturbance,” said the Sheriff, coolly. “Fighting in public is cause enough for me to have them both locked up for the night. Let them cool off.”

  “You can’t do that!” I said.

  The Sheriff shot me a shut-the-fuck-up look. “Unless you want to go with them I suggest you back away.”

  I stood on the sidewalk watching helplessly as both men were shoved into th
e Sheriff’s squad car. My heart beat so hard I couldn’t hear myself think!

  I scanned the sidewalk and frantically darted between options. My decision fell squarely upon the idea of introducing a metallic trash can to the Sheriff’s car. The trash can fell short of the windshield and only dented the front bumper, but I’ll be damned if the brazen act wasn’t going to get me thrown into jail for the night too.

  The Sheriff pursed his lips and shook his head from across the way, but I’d happily give up a night of freedom if it meant I’d be safe.

  CHAPTER 38

  I rode to the station in the back of the squad car with my arms around my stomach and my chest caved in. God how I missed my cozy bed, laying on it watching TV, snuggled up to my nose under the covers. But instead I sat uncomfortably in a car on my way to a jail.

  The station was a moderately sized building, brown on the outside and grey—bathed in fluorescent yellow—on the inside. The men were sent to one side of the building where I was sent to the other. I was urged into a cell at the end of a short corridor; seemed like I was the only guest tonight.

  I glanced tiredly at the Sheriff from within the little cell. He shook his head disapprovingly, locked me in, and walked out of sight. “You’ll get your phone call when you’re processed,” he said as he left.

  At least the cell contained a comfortable enough looking bed. I sat on it, kicked my feet up and lay my head down, exhaling loudly. Throwing the trash can into a car window wasn’t the best idea I ever had, but it’s not like I had a plan. I traded comfort for safety and allowed myself a moment to rest.

  The moon wasn’t in the sky. A blanket of clouds so dark no one would be able to tell the difference between night and day obscured the heavens and separated me from the Goddess’ strength when I needed her the most. The cell started to feel smaller than it was when I first came in.

  Footsteps approached. The young Deputy unlocked my cell and asked me to follow him. He took me to a small room with a plain grey table, two grey chairs, and an ancient computer; the kind with the fat screens. It stank of bitter coffee and wet dog, and the lack of personalization told me this wasn’t anyone’s office

  I sat down on the squeaky chair. The Deputy produced a small, transparent bag with my personal effects; phone, wallet, keys. He pulled my wallet out and checked out my ID card, then began tapping away at the keyboard in silence, but his eyes wandered. I may as well have been naked.

  “First time, huh?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said, rubbing my arm.

  “That was pretty stupid wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah, well.”

  He stopped typing. “You know, I once did something stupid for a girl too.”

  I kept my mouth shut.

  “Yeah, I punched a guy out once because I wanted to impress this girl I was after. One hit, too. I was real proud of that.”

  “I bet.”

  The Deputy paused. “Know what she did?” he asked.

  I met his stare. He wore the mask well; a charming smile, well ironed uniform, blonde hair nicely cut; but he had the hungry eyes of a man who lusted for flesh.

  My voice broke. I coughed to clear my dry throat. “What did she do?”

  “She ran, and then I did something really stupid.” The deputy thumbed the tip of his pen. “It’s a funny story when you think about it.”

  “What’s so funny about it?”

  The Deputy smiled. “You won’t get the punch line.”

  “Why’s that?”

  The smile transformed into a wicked grin. “Because you’re a girl.”

  The light fixture above my head buzzed loudly and then popped sending the room into darkness. In the faint glow of the computer screen the Deputy’s face seemed twisted and strange; as if someone had superimposed an image of a scowling demon over his plastic smile.

  “God dammit,” cursed the Deputy, “Gonna have to get that fixed.”

  Being alone in the dark with the Deputy made my skin crawl and shiver all over. I eyed the line of light coming in from the corridor beneath the door.

  “Alright, only one more thing left to do in here anyway,” said the Deputy. “Have you got anyone you want to call? Friends or family?”

  I nodded.

  The Deputy grabbed a landline unit from the side of the desk and turned it my way, handing the receiver to me. “Pretend I’m not here,” he said, “And take as long as you like.”

  I took the handset. The Deputy leaned back, hands clasped by his chest, watching me like a hawk. Despite the room being practically pitch black, it’s as if his hands were already undressing me one piece of clothing at a time. My stomach knotted. Eliza’s phone went straight to voicemail.

  “Hey, listen, don’t freak out but I’m in jail right now,” I said, turning my torso away from the Deputy. “I’m fine, everything’s fine, I wanted you to know I’ll be out in the morning. I’m with Damien. I love you.”

  I hung up. The Deputy didn’t move.

  “Do you like the dark?” he asked.

  “Can we go, now? Or are we waiting for something in here?”

  The Deputy smiled, all teeth, like the Cheshire cat. “C’mon, let’s get you back to your cell, lawbreaker.”

  We left the tiny room and soon enough I was once more bathed in fluorescent yellow. Never in the history of humankind had someone breathed so easily beneath such harsh lighting.

  “Alright, you stay put now,” said the Deputy once he locked me in. “Don’t make me come in there.”

  My blood boiled. “Deputy Clinton,” I said.

  He turned to look at me, smiling. “Yes?”

  “Do you like creeping people out in general or is it just girls?”

  His smile faded and morphed into a scowl. “You watch it,” he growled. The intensity of his words sent me reeling. I burrowed deeper into my cell and sat on the bed again. The Deputy left without saying a word.

  “That was stupid,” I said to no one. My hand trembled still.

  I rested my head against the wall and closed my eyes. In the black, Damien’s form came into view. He was also sitting on his bed with his eyes closed. A vibration picked up in my chest and then trailed into my stomach. I smiled to myself and swear I caught Damien smiling back. Was I truly peeking in on him or did I imagine it?

  Though we were only separated by a few walls, I missed him.

  CHAPTER 39

  “Amber,” said the Sheriff, snapping me back into consciousness. I hadn’t even heard him walk down the corridor. Was I asleep?

  “Yes, Sheriff Kirkman?” I asked, clearing my throat and turning my head toward him.

  He sighed. “Why’d you throw a trash can at the car?” I’d have found comedy in his tone if he weren’t so damn serious all the time.

  “I was angry and confused.”

  The Sheriff’s eyebrow rose. “I’ve seen you around plenty. You look like the kind of girl who has her head screwed on her shoulders, so why this? Why now?”

  “I told you. I was angry.”

  “Don’t lie to me, there has to be a reason why you’re here right now instead of comfortably at home.” The scary sheriff’s perceptive powers went far beyond even my abilities as a liar.

  My voice quaked. “Do you really want me to tell you?” I asked.

  “If you can’t tell me, who can you tell?”

  I paused, breathed deep, and exhaled. “I think someone’s trying to kill me,” I said.

  “Who’s trying to kill you?”

  “I don’t know, but the guy who’s been attacking people in my neighborhood, the one who attacked me last week, left a note for me on my door today telling me I’m next.”

  “You? Why you?”

  “I told you, I don’t know. But it’s worse than that. That girl who died in her pool? I don’t think it was an accident. I think this guy killed her and made it look like an accident.”

  “Amber—”

  “I’m not making this up!”

  The Sheriff sighed. “Why didn’t y
ou tell us about any of this?”

  “Because,” I said, “I wanted to figure it out on my own.”

  “You’re not a Sheriff or a Deputy,” he said. “You have to leave the policing to the police.”

  “I understand that, I just—”

  “If you think you’re in danger, you need to come to the authorities. We can keep you safe, figure out what’s going on.”

  I nodded and stared into the ground. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know what I was doing.”

  I didn’t tell him why I didn’t tell the cops. How could I? Telling him the full story would implicate Aaron, and reveal way more about myself—and my world—than I wanted to. I didn’t need to be told to keep quiet about being a Witch. Besides, if I’d told him the truth he’d have just locked me up in a different kind of cell.

  “Did you get your phone call?” asked the Sheriff.

  “I did. I called my friend Eliza but she wasn’t home.”

  The Sheriff paused, pensive. “Look, I’m not going to press charges. You didn’t break anything, and this is your first offence.”

  “So, you’re letting me go?”

  “You don’t need to be here tonight.”

  “I do need to be here. My home isn’t safe. I found a note on my door today telling me I was next. How am I supposed to go home when someone who wants to hurt me knows where I live?”

  “I can send you home with an escort. Keep an officer posted outside your door all day and all night to keep an eye out for this weirdo, catch him in the act.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want that.” I worried the Sheriff wouldn’t accept my request, so I went for his pride. “I threw a trash can at your squad car; if you let me go now everyone will think you’re soft. It’ll tarnish your reputation.”

  “The longest I can keep you here without a charge is twenty four hours, Amber.”