by Brandon Witt
Muttering something about wishing she could show her new patrons a real vampire, the witch left me at the counter and headed over to the couple.
In her absence, a feeling of purposelessness washed over me again. What did I expect to find here? Sure, I’d seen a vampire here for all of five minutes when Jake had brought me years ago. Sure, this store was owned by an actual witch, costume notwithstanding. So what? I might as well take a break from the bakery and walk over to Mascarada. At least Dad had actual supernatural items in his store. It wasn’t just a dumb tourist trap. Maybe all this was a lure to get humans to come play on the dark side, all the while giving a select few supernaturals money and occasionally providing a vampire with a meal or two.
I’d spend a few more minutes in here, maybe try another store or two, and then be on my way. No matter if trying to find the vampire helped me feel like I was doing something, it was definitely more useful to be home soothing Brett than being here at this messed-up Disneyland.
Wandering in the opposite direction of the most mismatched couple of the year, I headed to a section comprised of different weaponry. Although there were a few toy guns and grenades and such, the majority seemed to be of the medieval theme—plastic swords, maces, axes. Most were cheap replicas that were obviously nothing more than children’s toys with noticeable plastic seams and acrylic jewels. However, there were a few that were fairly convincing fakes. A lightweight metal sword had the head and body of a dragon for the hilt, its tail swirling around to form the guard. In fact, the longer I browsed through the weapons section, the more I found that were real, many of them looking like actual ancient weapons, as opposed to reproductions. I accidentally grazed my arm on the head of a morningstar club, its sea-urchin-like spikes easily slicing through my skin, leaving a small line of blood.
“You need to be more careful around here, young warlock.” The witch was back at my side with a malevolent smile on her face, her eyes still refusing to meet mine. “Don’t let the attempts to appease the masses fool you.” Without warning, her hand shot out, and her long, deep-purple nails scraped against the cut, removing the blood and healing my skin in its wake.
I stood frozen, expecting her to raise her finger to her lips. Instead, her eyes flashed toward mine for the briefest of moments as she wiped her nail on the inside of her high lace collar.
“Did you not expect there to be genuine among the fake? Sometimes the best place to conceal the exceptional is amid the counterfeit.”
Glancing over, I saw the couple perusing T-shirts and backpacks with the emblem of the stone lion head and “The Square” in blood-red text embroidered on them. “Like a genuine witch hiding in a witch’s costume.” I was disheartened to hear the tremble in my voice.
“Obviously.” This time, when she reached for me, she did so slowly, giving me time to pull away if I chose. Gently, she took my left hand and turned it up within hers. Then her talon-like nails traced and swirled over the lines in my palm. “Now tell me, warlock, you didn’t come here to play with plastic swords. What is it you seek?”
“I’m….” What do I say to this woman? Obviously, I couldn’t trust her, but I knew I was out of my league if I hoped to trick something out of her. “I’m not sure.”
“Come, come now.” She was bent over my hand, the top of her pointed hat hitting me in the face as her nail began to trace the lines more slowly and deeply. “You didn’t come here to play games any more than you did to play with my toys. What is it you seek?”
“A vampire.” I hadn’t consciously chosen to tell her, but now that it was out, it flowed. “I am looking for a particular vampire. I’m not really sure where to start. Do you have any idea how to find one?”
This time, when her eyes met mine, they held on, not darting away. “A vampire? Really?” She cocked her head at me, all at once resembling a crow. “A solitary vampire is why you think you are here?”
I nodded stupidly.
She shifted to peer at me from the other side. Her gaze probed deeply, her fingers never ceasing to follow the lines in my palm.
She let out a harsh chuckle. “Fine, then. A vampire. You’re here to find a vampire.” She dropped my hand without preamble, and her fingers reached out to caress the morningstar that had wounded me.
“Yes. What can you tell me about them? Can you tell me where to find them?”
She began walking away from me, and I followed.
Her path was bringing us closer to the human couple. Seemingly uncaring, she began to speak, her craggy voice steady and clipped. “Vampires. You can find them here, but you already know that.” She gave a dismissive flick of her hand. “Disgusting creatures, really. Shouldn’t exist.” Her volume increased, as if she were yelling at someone across the room. “At least we haven’t had any of those dammed Royals prowling around lately.”
She paused and glanced at me over her shoulder. “Are you wanting to become one?”
I shook my head.
She nodded. “Fuck one?”
“No!” I hadn’t expected that.
“No, thought not.” She let out a wicked chuckle. “You’re already fucking something much more dangerous than a lowly vampire.” She grinned. “Or at least, you will be.”
She had to be talking about Brett. I could feel my heart pounding against my ribs. I was unclear if it was responding to her knowledge of Brett or her veiled promise of what lay ahead in our future.
I turned to face her, suddenly not caring if the human couple heard us any more than she did. “You obviously can either see into the present or the future. You know things about me. You’ll also know what it is I need to know. Where do I find him?”
“The vampire?” Her voice was mocking.
I leaned closer to her, refusing her the opportunity to turn away. “You’re right, I’m not here to play games, so quit playing with me. Tell me what I need to know. Where do I find the vampire?”
Not looking at all concerned, she shrugged. “A lone vampire’s location is not what you need to know.”
“Then what is it I need to know?” It was my turn to grit my teeth.
She offered another noncommittal shrug. “I won’t answer what isn’t asked.”
I struggled to keep the frustration from my voice. “I know compared to you I am young in my power, but I’m not new to it. Quit. Playing. Games.”
She broke into a crooked smile. “You may be young, warlock, but your power is greater than mine. I also know you won’t use it against me, so don’t bother with the attempted intimidation.”
I continued to glare. She was right. We both knew I wouldn’t actually try to hurt her, but I had no idea why she thought my power was stronger than hers. I couldn’t read palms or tell the future. Of course, maybe she couldn’t either. It could all just be some messed-up mind game she enjoyed.
She reached up and gave my cheek a quick smack, causing me to flinch back from the sting. “Trust me, boy, I’m not the one playing games.”
Our attention was drawn by another shrill squeal. “Frank! Look, a sea dragon! I love sea dragons!”
Glancing behind, I could see the goth girl once again pulling the geek (Frank, apparently) along behind her toward the fish tanks on the back wall.
I turned back to the witch, but she was already stepping away from me. “We’re done, warlock. For now. Why don’t you check out my fish selection for sale before you show yourself out.”
I started to move after her but then thought better of it. It was clear any help I might receive from her this evening was going to be shrouded in vagueness and would be no use at all.
Uncertain why I listened to her, I closed the gap between where she had abandoned me and the wall of fish.
Upon closer inspection, I realized the wall was indeed one giant fish tank. It was divided into thirteen narrow vertical sections, stretching from floor to ceiling. I hadn’t really given it more than a glance before, but it was beautiful. The water seemed more like a crystalline gel than fish water, particles refr
acting rainbow light sporadically.
“Frank! Look at this octopus! I’ve never seen one such a gorgeous red before!”
I followed her gaze. Sure enough, the octopus, compacted into one of the rear corners of the tank except for a couple of its tentacles that reached alluringly toward the couple, was a shimmering ruby red. Glistening yellow spots were scattered randomly over the gemlike skin.
Mesmerized, I stepped closer to the octopus’s section of the tank. The tentacles reaching toward the humans whipped back to entangle within its mess of arms. The flawless crimson skin paled instantly to a dull gray, nearly allowing it to disappear against the rear glass of its enclosure.
Goth girl looked over her shoulder at me, an annoyed expression on her mousy countenance. “It doesn’t seem to like you very much.”
“Sarah!” Frank-the-geek-king turned to me nervously, probably expecting to see another witch. His eyes narrowed, but he must have determined that I was harmless. This time Sarah was the one to get her arm pulled. “Come on. Let’s get outta here.”
She shot another longing glance at the wall of fish. “Fine. You promised we could go dancing. Can we go dancing?”
Frank eyed me once more. “Sure. I don’t wanna stay too long, though. I’ve got shows recording at home.”
Sarah let out a soft whine. “Just great. Just what I was looking forward to after a night of dancing.”
“Come on.” He gave her a sterner glare than I would have thought him capable of and led her to the door.
Watching them exit, I realized the sun had set since I had entered the store. Maybe the witch was wrong. Maybe I would find him tonight. True, I still had no idea what I’d do then, but that didn’t matter at this point—I’d wing it.
I turned back to the octopus, which was still a lackluster gray. A flicker of movement caught my eye. The sea dragons were in the adjacent column. Moving over slightly, I peered in at them. I’d seen them at aquariums before, but could never quite get used to them. They never appeared to be real. Their lightning-shaped bodies and countless leaflike projections made it seem impossible for them to be living, much less to have the capacity to swim.
The largest one glided inelegantly toward me. Its body was striated in the typical yellowish-brown, but its leafy projections were a vibrant blue. It was nearly a foot long, dwarfing the others. I leaned closer, mesmerized. Its emerald-green eyes followed mine. I stared at it. It stared back.
Unconsciously, my hand rose to press against the glass. The sea dragon glanced at my hand, then returned its gaze to mine, coming closer.
“No.” My voice was so low, I couldn’t even hear myself. “No. It can’t be.”
After a few more moments, I tore my gaze from the dragon. With a quick glance, not seeing the witch, I rushed from section to section, peering just long enough into every column to confirm my suspicion. Why would she have wanted me to see this?
Without another look, I dashed across the store, nearly colliding with a shelf full of crystal balls. Avoiding them, I made it to the door and through it without checking over my shoulder.
At first, I didn’t even take in the growing crowd on the sidewalk, nor the lamps that had ignited all over the square. I couldn’t believe what I had seen.
The witch wasn’t selling fish for collectors’ aquariums.
Every specimen in there was a magical creature. Not only was it against our laws to capture or traffic in supernatural animals, especially in public, but these were ones that had been believed to have gone extinct eons ago, or to have never existed at all.
Chapter 17
THE growing number of people milling about The Square, as well as the soft lighting from the old-fashioned gas lamps that enclosed its circumference, should have helped calm my nerves. At night, The Square had a nostalgic charm about it. My mind was too overwhelmed by what I had seen in the gift shop to allow the environment to have an effect on me. I was already halfway across the other block before I realized I was walking aimlessly and that this was the last place a person should be caught unaware. When I finally came to a halt, I was in front of DANCE.
A girl bumped into me in her rush to get in the dance club. She didn’t bother to acknowledge my presence. Stepping out of the way, I took a second to look around and regain my bearings. The increase of people in The Square was exponential. There were a few witches and warlocks here and there (none that I recognized, of course), but the majority were everyday humans, most obviously comfortable, like they’d been here before, but a few glancing around nervously. The windows around The Square were lit up, except for the ones that were boarded over or painted black.
Part of me felt silly for rushing away from the witch and her wall of fish. I hadn’t been in any imminent danger. The discovery of such specimens alive—not only alive but for sale out in the open—well, the implications were too significant to even begin to comprehend. Few humans, if any, would notice anything overly special about the fish. Maybe they’d think they were brighter or bigger or more unusual, but there was little danger of anyone getting suspicious. I’d pretty much decided I would head back to Brett after the gift shop. However, if such things were right there, out in the open, in the first place I’d gone into, what else was this place hiding?
I was now facing the rear of the courthouse. The building was even less impressive from this side. Turning my attention away, I tried to determine my next move. It looked like most of the traffic was going into the dance club. As I turned to enter, a thin redheaded man caught my attention from farther down the block. I felt my heart start to pound. I couldn’t be sure, I’d only seen the back of him as he walked through the door, but he triggered the memory of the vampire as he’d turned and led Brett out the door of the restaurant.
Okay, what was I supposed to do? Walk up to him and ask him why he was stalking Brett? I was fairly certain I could defend myself against him, at least enough to not get killed, but I also knew there was little to no chance of killing him on my own either. If nothing else, maybe I could follow him, figure out where he slept during the day.
Blood rushing, I headed back down the direction I’d come. I slipped in through the door the redhead had gone through. I was in a bar. It took only a millisecond for my eyes to adjust to the dark. The room was long and narrow. The glass bar, made up of two-foot-square glass blocks, took up most of the west wall. The blocks were backlit by a deep red glow, giving the room a false sense of muted warmth.
There were only eight to ten people in the bar, including a beautiful, scantily clad witch, her long blonde hair reflecting back the red light behind her as she shook a martini shaker.
I did my best to only pause for a moment. I’d done a bad enough job of blending in at the gift shop. The Square had humans and supernaturals alike who came and went as they pleased. Why couldn’t I simply be one of them? There was no reason to act out of place, except for whatever had nearly captured me when I’d been under the tree.
After another quick scan of everyone and not seeing the redhead, I walked over to the bar, where the blonde bartender was now leaning intimately toward a burly man across from her. I could have sworn the man’s black eyes flashed over toward me before he whispered something to the witch. I chastised myself for being so paranoid.
Despite obviously seeing me sit down at the bar, the witch continued her conversation, never acknowledging my presence. Jake had gotten our drinks when we’d come here before. I wasn’t sure if there was a protocol I was missing or if I was just supposed to yell rudely at the staff. It was The Square, after all. Instead, I waited, feeling awkward sitting there with nothing in my hands.
There didn’t seem to be much special about the other patrons. Over half were a group of humans, all of whom seemed to be more out of place than I felt.
A witch and warlock couple toward the back of the bar were mostly obscured by the back of their booth, which appeared to have been made from the frame of an antique canopy bed. Every so often, bits of their tense conversation rose to
a decibel allowing me to get an idea of the topic. That, along with the witch’s tears, made it seem like it was nothing more unusual than your everyday lover’s quarrel. She felt he’d shown too much interest in the bartender. Apparently, he’d always had a thing for blondes….
The two women toward the front of the bar had a supernatural feel about them. They weren’t witches, but I couldn’t tell what they were. The final patron was directly across the bar from me at the other end, his willowy frame hunched over his drink in a declaration of defeat. I stared at him for a couple of minutes before his bloodshot gaze lifted and gave me a reproving glare. I hadn’t been able to figure out what he was until I saw his eyes. It took everything in me not to gasp. If you hadn’t known the signs, you’d probably not notice. His eyes were just a little too big for his face, slightly larger than human or witch eyes. More noticeable was the crystalline quality they possessed. Despite the multitude of red veins running through them, his eyes appeared cleaner—more unpolluted—than anyone else’s I’d ever seen, a true sense of what eyes should look like. A fairy.
Fairies have one of the lowest populations of any supernatural species. I’d heard of them—Mom and Dad had a great story of one they’d met on their honeymoon in Hawaii—but I’d never seen one for myself. From what I knew, most fairies were mostly harmless, more obsessed with beauty and playing tricks than anything else. However, there were accounts of some who were anything but harmless pranksters—initiating wars, mass murders, all types of devastation that humans never knew they were being manipulated into performing. From his rather disgusting physical appearance and the hate in his eyes, I felt it was safe to assume he was the kind who would take pleasure in performing the role of puppet master in such a conspiracy.
The fairy’s eyes darted to his left, away from me. Following his glance, I saw the redhead emerge from somewhere near the rear of the bar. Maybe the restroom. On his arm was a young girl, maybe fourteen, maybe. Her eyes were glazed and never left him as he led her through the bar. There were fresh bite marks covering her neck, blood making a slow stream into the collar of her filthy baby-blue T-shirt. Following the trail of blood, I saw a small assortment of deeper bite marks on her forearm.
