by Monica Rossi
There was no way she could take a nap, she might feel a little worn out from what had happened that morning but her mind was whirling with unanswered questions and possibilities. She leaned her head back anyway and closed her eyes; maybe the trees rushing past her wouldn’t make her nauseous that way, and promptly fell asleep.
***
Sidney blinked, her vision was unfocused and blurry. She couldn’t believe she’d actually fallen asleep, with everything that was going on. But she felt better, her mind seemed less fuzzy.
The car wasn’t moving and Fran wasn’t in the driver’s seat, they must have arrived at ‘The Grove’, or whatever she called it. Through the windows Sidney could see a large white farmhouse in the middle of a meadow, surrounded on all sides by trees, but Fran was nowhere in sight. So much for waking her up when they got there.
Slowly she opened the car door, stretching her arms, legs, and back as she stood up. They must have driven a long way, she felt like she’d been in that seat for hours.
Doubtfully she leaned against the car and looked up at the house, was she supposed to go in or wait to be invited in? Was this some kind of meeting place or someone’s house? The wrap around porch was cheery, with colored glasswind chimes hanging here and there, potted greenery dotted randomly along the railing, rocking chairs, and a porch swing holding up some comfy looking pillows. It looked more like a home. No one decorated a meeting place this much.
“But she’s asleep,” someone said, the sound traveling through the intricately swirled screen door.
“Well, if she is then we’ll just have to wake her up, but I don’t think so,” a male voice replied as the screen door was opened.
A huge well-formed man of undetermined race strode out onto the porch, wearing only a pair of flowing pants that could almost be mistaken for a skirt, followed by Fran. She looked so dainty next to him, had she always been that small or was this dude just huge? “Look, I told you she was awake.” He turned around to point out the obvious to Fran and his muscles rippled in a very appealing way.
Sidney still felt like she was in shock but she was also still a woman who could appreciate a nicely shaped man no matter what her condition. His dusky skin almost seemed to glow in the sunlight as he approached and she had a hard time keeping her eyes from devouring him.
“I’m gay,” he said, smirking as he stopped in front of her.
She scrambled for words. Had she been that obvious or was this guy a mind reader?
“Yes,” he said.
“Yes what?” she asked, finally finding her tongue.
“You were that obvious and I am a mind reader. Come on in the house and meet Bree,” he grabbed her hand and tugged her forward.
She gave Fran a look that she hoped conveyed “HELP ME” loud and clear, but Fran just shrugged and followed behind them.
Fran was completely useless, and Sidney decided that as soon as she could possibly arrange it she was going to fire her and hire someone else. Yes, that sounded extremely good to Sidney. She’d hire someone who had a personality and the occasional color in their wardrobe. And who wasn’t a witch. That was mandatory, absolutely no witches.
The house looked like something out of a 1940s ‘Elegant Farm Homes’ magazine. She’d been expecting crystals and pentagrams and … patchouli. Instead there were cross stitched pillows on an ancient couch, grainy black and white photographs staring out of plain wooden frames, threadbare carpets, and wooden furniture that had faded spots where the stain had long since worn off. The air smelled of baking bread, lemon furniture polish, and… oldness. It wasn’t a bad smell, it was actually rather comforting. It was probably how Auntie Em’s house had smelled to Dorothy.
And then Auntie Em came through the door, wiping her hands on a dish towel before slinging it over her shoulder.
“You must be Sidney,” the woman smiled, transforming her face into something full of love and light, and offered her hand, “I’m Bree.”
Sidney took the offered hand in hers, the skin felt smooth and delicate, like a very fine piece of silk, “Nice to meet you,” Sidney said, hoping that would turn out to be the case. But the way her luck was running, she couldn’t be sure.
“Well come on in and have some tea, it’s not as sweet as some people make it but I bet it will hit the spot,” Bree nodded her head towards the room she’d just exited before turning. Sidney followed with Fran and the hot guy trailing behind.
“My name is Cord… in case you were wondering,” he said. She glanced back at him to see a devastating sideways smirk on his face. Being around a mind reader, especially one who looked like that, was going to be a pain in the ass.
Cord chuckled.
Fran and Cord took a seat around an ancient table that was the center point for the spacey whitewashed room, and Sidney followed their lead. Everything looked so ridiculously homey, from the copper tea pot on the stove to the blue willow plates on display, and there were fluffy hydrangea cuttings in a chipped yellow vase on the table. She was almost positive she’d accidentally stepped into a Country Crock commercial.
Bree placed ice filled mason jars, of course, down in front of each of them and began to pour their tea.
“So Francisca tells me you’re just now finding out about your heritage? Mmmm?” Bree sat at the table with them, her kind eyes seemed genuinely interested.
“Well, if that’s what it is,” Sidney shrugged, “I really can’t see how either of my parents could have possibly been… a…”
“Witch, darling. It’s not a bad word.” Bree patted her hand.
“It just seems so… weird. Witches are real? Werewolves, excuse me shifters are real. What else am I going to find out isn’t just some childhood fairytale? Am I going to bump into a Vampire on the subway?”
“We don’t have a subway,” Fran felt the need to interject.
Cord rolled his eyes, “Fran told me you’d somehow gotten involved with the shifters. Care to tell us how that happened?” He sounded almost accusatory as he asked.
“You shush and let her do one thing at a time. We’re talking about her and her abilities, not those nasty shifters,” Bree chided.
Nasty shifters? Those nasty shifters had saved her life, and she was in love with one of them. True, she wouldn’t have been in danger if it hadn’t been for them anyway but that wasn’t the point.
“Now, when did you first realize that you could do things other people couldn’t?”
Sidney’s mind groped for something but came up empty, she couldn’t do things other people couldn’t. She was just a normal person.
“Seriously, there has to be something,” Cord said.
Bree huffed, “Cord, you’re jumping on my last nerve. Let the girl talk. No more interruptions from you.”
“Really, I can’t do anything that other people can’t do. I didn’t realize anything was different until Fran grabbed my hand.”
Bree seemed confused, “Usually it manifests in small things, but people tend to notice it themselves even if no one else does.”
She tried to think of some skill she had that seemed abnormally advanced, and came up empty handed. “I’m sorry, there’s nothing.”
“She heals the animals in the clinic with magic, I can feel it coming off of her in waves.” Fran said.
“I treat the animals with medicine or surgery, nothing special.”
“How many dogs or cats have you had to put down since you’ve been working at the clinic? Don’t answer, I can tell you. Zero. Even people who bring their old dogs in to be put down because they’re so old and unable to even walk anymore, somehow seem to leave the office as spry as a one year old puppy.”
“Modern medicine is really amazing,” Sidney offered lamely. She did have an unusually high success rate with healing animals, but she’d always thought it was just because she was an exceptionally dedicated veterinarian.
“Psshaw child, now tell me truly. What else can you do?”
“Really, there’s nothing. I have no specia
l powers that I know of. Unless finding myself in illogical situations, such as in a kitchen full of witches, counts as a magical power.”
Bree chuckled, “Well may be it is dear, I once knew a witch back in the twenties who drew people to her like moths to a lamp. Not just anyone, mind, but special people. There’s a picture around here somewhere of us with F. Scott Fitzgerald, he was her beau.” The twenties? How old was this lady? Sidney wondered as Bree continued “But never mind that. We’ll see what else, besides healing, you have an affinity for shortly I reckon. You’re a real sparkler, I can feel it.”
“So what are you going to do, ask me to bend a spoon? Light a candle with my mind? Saw Fran in half.”
“Look, she’s got jokes, how cute,” Cord elbowed Fran, who didn’t seem to find anything amusing.
“Well actually it will be something like that. We’ll let you try a few different things. But before we go any further, I wanted to see if you had any questions for us.”
Questions? Sidney’s brain was full of questions, first and foremost, how was this even possible.
“Well, of course I have questions. I have tons and tons of questions.”
“Well ask them.” Bree spread her hands as if to say that she, Fran, and Cord were there at her convenience.
What to ask first? The questions flooded her brain, where to even begin? “Why me?”
“It’s in your genes. Fran said you didn’t know which one of your parents it came from but one of them obviously kept their secret well.”
“So is my sister a witch as well?”
“It’s probable. There are cases where a child won’t inherit the gift but usually as long as at least one parent is one of us then he or she will pass it on.”
Sidney shuddered at the though of Jessica with any kind of supernatural power. She’d immediately take over the world and then summarily destroy it.
“Is this some kind of religion? Is the… presence I encountered a ‘god’.
Bree nodded her head, “It’s kind of a religion, but more of just a way of life. We don’t worship any kinds of gods per se, but we recognize the Mother and the Father principle that runs through all of creation.”
“If it wasn’t a God, what was it that spoke to me?”
“I wish it were easier to explain, but until you’ve had more experience interacting with it, you probably will think of it as a Goddess. She, it, whatever you want to call her. She’s been around since time began and has been called many things. You can think of, and call it, whatever you want to right now. As time passes, you come to understand it more.”
“Ok,” that seemed like a better answer than Sidney had been hoping for. She had imagined having to do blood sacrifices to some pagan fertility Goddess. “What kind of ‘powers’ are you talking about? I mean besides healing, which you say I already do, what is possible.”
“Oh Lord child, the possibilities are as many as there are blades of grass in my yard. Some people are really good at light or fire, others can make a drought that leaves you love sick, or create beautiful sounds. Some work with wood, and others have the ability to just know things. Some are only powerful enough to move a paperclip with their mind and others can cause a hurricane that leaves destruction in their path. It all just depends on who you are and where your talents lay.”
“So how will we know which I am?” Sidney asked.
“We’ll train you in basic craft and test you in different areas, but most people just find their talents by accident as a child. They’ll drop a glass and catch it with their mind and figure out they’re skilled at telekinesis. Or they’ll jump and their feet won’t quite touch the ground on their way down, and they realize that they can manipulate air. Or they’ll wish for roses in winter and one will sprout at their feet. You’re getting a late start sweetie, but I’m sure you’ll find some latent talents.”
“So when do we begin? Am I going to have to go to Hogwarts or what?”
Bree snorted and looked at the other two sitting at the table, “I wish it were that easy. Before we start we’ll have to prep you for your experience.”
“Prep me how?” That sounded almost medical, and she’d never been a good patient.
“Well, to be honest,” Bree took a sip of her coffee and smiled sweetly, “the first thing we’re going to have to do is break you.”
Demon crouched down, letting the branches of a bush provide cover for his hiding spot. For the past five days he’d been watching Big Dog, Trainz, and BillCo as they went about their business. And it seemed like business was doing well.
His instructions when he’d set out to track Big Dog had been to find him, bring him back if he could, or come back and tell the Dogs if he couldn’t. But that was before he’d found them lounging the lap of luxury in an Asheville mansion. Being a Loner Demon wasn’t current on how the day to day business of the club was done, but even with the most obvious embezzling, there was no way Big Dog had been able to put away enough to pay for such a house, even if he was just renting it. It wasn’t even in the realm of possibility. Someone was bankrolling them.
Demon wanted to know who and he wanted to know why. But this surveillance job was getting old, fast. He had watched from behind walls, from behind trees and bushes, in trees, sitting in cars, sitting in cafes, sitting in parks, and the honest truth of the matter was, he was tired as fuck of watching Big Dog, Trianz, and BillCo’s old fat asses do anything. By this point, he could almost predict with ninety nine percent certainty when Trainz would scratch his ass or when Big Dog would get up from watching TV and go smoke. He was tired of watching and he was tired of these three assholes. He was also tired of having so much time to sit and think. Wasn’t good for the soul.
But thoughts, regrets, kept swirling through his mind anyway. It had been good to be back with the club. It felt like home, something he’d almost lost the feeling for. It had been so long since he’d stayed in any one place that ‘home’ had just turned into whatever place he happened to be. Which was usually some ratty motel in whatever shitty little town he’d decided to pause in. It was depressing when he thought about it. Which is why he really shouldn’t think about it that much. There wasn’t much he could do about it. Ryder, no Red, he reminded himself sardonically, had a place there, had made himself a place, and that left no room for Demon. He even had a girl now. Demon smirked as he remembered how flustered Sidney had gotten when they’d touched. He might have to use that in the future. She wasn’t at all bad to look at either, it might be fun, with the added bonus of fucking with Ryder. Red. Whatever.
But no matter how much he got under Red’s skin, he still had the home and life they’d been meant for, not Demon. He could whine about it, get all depressed about it like a little bitch, ask questions like; “Why am I the one who has to leave the only place we’ve ever called home?” But what purpose would it serve, besides turning him into some whiny cunt? None. Life was the way it was and there wasn’t much he could do about it.
There had been a time when it had been different. A time when he and Red had not been at each others throats. A time when they’d been friends, brothers. But shit happens, and some serious shit did happen, and that time was long past. There was no going back, no matter how much regret Demon told himself he didn’t feel. There was no going back.
He couldn’t make a home in Three Rivers again, even if he wanted to. Seeing Red all the time, seeing Morgan, even occasionally, would just reopen old scars. Morgan, her face was so much like her mother’s. He couldn’t live through the pain of that constant reminder.
He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and squatted lower in the bushes. A black car, and expensive one, pulled up in the long driveway. This may be the information he needed. Maybe finally he’d see who was paying Big Dog to lounge around while plotting against the Dogs.
Demon couldn’t even imagine what someone could offer that would make a man, and especially Big Dog, turn on the Club. Loyalty was everything, it was ingrained from birth, the whole comm
unity is your family and your job is to protect and provide for that family, anything less is unthinkable. Never had they had a member, much less the president, sell them out. Never. Sure, some quit the club after they got old, or tired of riding, but no one ever left completely or shifted loyalties. It was unthinkable.
A man in a slick suit stepped out of the passenger side of the car, his door held open by yet another suit, this one big and mean looking. This was what he’d been waiting for.
Demon closed his eyes and focused on all the sounds around him, the rustle of leaves, the sound of crickets, his own breathing and quiet chatter of some animal in a nearby tree. Letting his hearing expand further, he heard the TV playing in the living room, the toilet flush in one of the bathrooms, and finally the clomp of expensive shoes on concrete. He honed in on that sound and followed it. A knock on the door, Trainz stomping through the house, the creak of the door opening.
“Hey Boss, Big Dog is in there. Come on in.” Boss. Trainz had called this man who Demon had never seen before Boss. Fury flew through Demon. Even though he wasn’t a day to day part of their lives, Three Rivers was still his family, and Big Dog had sold it out. He had to know why. If it was just the money, no matter how slow and agonizing the death would be, it would be too good for either of them.
He listened as Trainz bellowed, “Hey Big Dog, Boss is here,” and as all of their footsteps tracked across the wooden floor of the foyer and Big Dog’s steps came to meet them.
“Hello Big Dog,” the man said his name like he was speaking to a toddler who had decided he wanted be called The Great and Mighty Cleaver o’ Doom, “You look well. Rested.”
“Oh I’m doing great Boss,” Demon ground his teeth. Not only did hearing them call the man boss grate, he also needed a name. “This rest was just what I needed to get my mind in order and figure out what to do.”
“Good, then I hope you’ve come up with a plan, because time is growing short.”
