by Kody Boye
“Aerick,” she said, nodding at the Howler as he approached. “I was wondering when you would arrive.”
“Sorry it took so long,” Aerick said. “Had to drag one of my men out of hiding.”
The witch—whom I assumed was one of the white witches based solely on the fact that she did not inspire utmost terror within me—nodded as she centered her gaze upon my features and extended a hand toward one of my shoulders. “You were… attacked,” she said.
“Yes ma’am,” I replied.
“Just recently?”
“Yes.”
“He needs your healing magic, ma’am,” Aerick said. “And a GPS device removed from his left shoulder.”
“A… GPS?” the witch frowned.
Aerick shook his head and stepped toward the open threshold. “It’d take too long to explain,” he said. “I’d appreciate any help you could give us.”
Inside, I was instructed to take me shirt off and then told to lie down upon a sterile metal table. As I spread out along it, grimacing as the chill bit into my otherwise-warm skin, I looked up at the white witch as she leaned forward to acknowledge my wounds, then as she extended a hand and prodded at my left shoulder.
“Out,” she said.
The skin—which had not yet healed—visibly contracted. A brief burst of pain followed before it split, opening to reveal the GPS device that was inside.
“That was easy enough,” she said, reaching forward with a pair of tweezers to withdraw the device from my body. “Are you in much pain?”
“No,” I lied, grimacing through my teeth.
Aerick took hold of my hand and nodded as the witch continued her work—first by weaving the stitching from my body, then by securing the wounds with the efforts of her magic. The sensation—washing over my body in the form of white light—was enough to unsettle me initially, but eventually became a huge comfort as euphoria set in and my body prostrated itself to her magical demands.
It was over before I knew it.
By the time she finished, I felt almost as good as new, albeit a little sore where the Harpy’s talons had sunk into my skin.
“There we go,” she said, nodding as she pulled me upright and as she considered the scar tissue that now blanketed both of my shoulders.
“Can you squeeze me in too?” Aerick offered as he slid his own shirt off.
“Oooh,” she said, grimacing as she took note of the bruising along the Howler’s body. “This will be a bit more painful.”
Him? More painful? Just how could that possibly be?
“How?” I frowned. “I mean, you split my skin open and—”
“The bruising is deep,” the witch said. “It’ll require manual massage and magical therapy to heal.”
“Do it,” Aerick said, climbing atop the table before spreading out along his belly.
The witch—whose name I still had not managed to catch regardless of everything she’d done for us—nodded and reached forward to begin her work.
Aerick immediately began to groan.
“Shh,” the witch said, the tone in her voice magical and carrying upon it a calming effect. “Everything will be just fine.”
The words—blanketing my consciousness—relaxed me, to the point where my eyes began to droop and my body began to loosen up.
Was this the result of magic, I wondered, or was this simply human compassion magnified by forces beyond my comprehension?
I couldn’t know, and in standing there, struggling to remain upright, I didn’t care. Aerick, meanwhile, had fallen asleep, and was currently snoring contentedly as the woman continued her work.
“Thank you for doing this,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper in order to not awaken Aerick. “It means a lot to me.”
“I know it does, young man,” the witch replied. She paused, then, and lifted her head to consider me. The frown that crossed her features was enough to set me on edge.
“What?” I asked, her expression inspiring a frown of my own.
“You are deeply troubled,” the witch said, “by the forces that are currently at work.”
“It doesn’t take magic to know that,” I offered.
“But it does take magic to realize that things will never be as they seem, not again.”
“Are you… a seer?”
“I am no seer, my friend—only a very-devout follower of the magical art.”
“But if you can’t see—”
“I don’t need to see the future to know that our arrival will alter it,” she said, the white light spooling from her palms and along Aerick’s ribcage. “We—the Supernatural individuals of the United States—will affect the world tremendously. Do you not see that yourself?”
I hadn’t—at least, not yet—but I wasn’t about to doubt the words of a woman who was obviously more intuitive than I was.
With a sad nod, I sighed and said, “I know things are going to change.”
“And you will, as a result, be forced to adapt with them.” The witch paused and looked up at me. “You are more fortunate than other Supernaturals. You are human—at least in appearance—and can mask your identity as you see fit.”
“What if they don’t allow us to glamour people?” I frowned.
“Who?” the witch asked with a frown of her own.
“The Agency.”
“They cannot control your God-given gifts,” the witch replied. “Do not fear the future, Jason. Fear those who lie within it.”
“Do you know something I don’t?” I asked.
“No,” the woman said. “I don’t.”
She resumed her ministrations upon Aerick’s body, leaving me to doubt whether or not I was capable of existing in the world as it currently was.
4
Guy was the first to inform us that we could soon be discharged from the Agency’s protective custody. “They’ve erased any former aspect of our identities that might have caused issues with future employment or finances,” Guy said, matter-of-factly and with a voice that commanded attention.
“What does that mean?” Aerick asked.
“Jason already knows that his student loans are gone,” Guy replied. “But what he doesn’t know is that his dissertation is sitting with the head-honchos of the University of Texas as we speak.”
“You mean—”
“You’ll soon be Professor DePella, babe.”
“Fuckin’ A,” Aerick said, slapping my back and pulling me into a one-armed hug. “Will you give me detention, professor? I’ve been very, very naughty.”
“I bet you have,” I replied. Aerick laughed as I leaned forward and tapped the tip of his nose with my index finger. As I gazed into his eyes—taking in their green and gold-rimmed depths—I cleared my throat and asked, “What about Aerick, though? Did the Wipers need to do any work on him?”
“Not that I was made aware of.”
“And you?”
“I have my old job back. And they’ve assigned us a position within Central Texas.”
“Which means—”
“Austin’s in the near future,” Guy offered, a smile cresting the corners of his lips.
“I don’t understand,” I said, then frowned when I began to dwell on the matter at hand. “What do you mean when you say we’ve been ‘assigned a position?’” I used air quotes to enunciate my point.
“It means,” Guy said, “that I’m likely going to get my apartment back, or even better—we’re going to get a house.”
“In Austin?” Aerick laughed. “How the hell are we going to be able to afford a house? Isn’t the rent there, like, 1K for a single-bedroom?”
“It can be, in some areas,” Guy replied, “but we’re likely going to be placed in the developing part of the city.”
“East Austin,” I said, then smiled when Aerick turned and offered me a frown. “What? I used to live there.”
“When you say developing,” Aerick started, “do you mean—”
“That the area’s falling prey to gentrification?
Obviously,” I said. “Let me tell you, though: there are some pretty sexy dudes around the East Austin area.”
“Do you plan on getting laid?”
“No!” I laughed. “I’m just saying. The eye candy is good.”
“Anyway,” Guy replied. “We have a position lined up for us, though when we’re going to get discharged I can’t be sure. I don’t know much of anything at the moment.”
“What about your fathers?” I frowned. “Have you heard from them?”
At this, Guy sighed and reached up to run a hand through the freshly-buzzed fuzz along his skull. “I spoke with Amadeo,” he said. “My father is trying to bring together the Kaldr clans to make an official statement to the world as a whole.”
“What does Amadeo make of that?”
“Papa thinks it’s a bad idea. He doesn’t want any attention drawn to them or our people,” Guy said. “He doesn’t want it to be like old times, when the Vikings showed up.”
“And skullfucked everyone with axes?” Aerick asked. When Guy offered only a nod in response, the Howler frowned. “Jesus. You sure your pop’s got the right idea with this one?”
“I don’t know if my father’s idea is good. All I know is that we’re going to be discharged here within the next few days, possibly even sooner.”
“No more hiding,” Aerick said.
“Has the Agency given any recommendation as to what we’re supposed to do about… well…” I nodded toward the TV. “Them.”
“The Agency is preparing a dossier for all Supernaturals leaving their custody. We should have it at our doorstep by sometime tomorrow.”
Tomorrow.
The thought didn’t set well with me.
If they were planning on evicting us from the safest place in the entire world, they could have at least given us further warning. But, then again, I hadn’t left the room for days. Guy and Aerick were the two who would have better insight as to what was occurring outside these walls.
With one last nod, I stood and approached Guy, who stood before the doorway watching me with uneasy blue eyes. “Jason,” he said.
“Guy,” I replied.
“Everything ok?”
“Just scared is all.”
He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around me.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” he said.
“Besides,” Aerick added. “Who’s going to mess with two Kaldr and a Howler?”
I didn’t know.
People were crazy.
Difference, to some, was a disease, meant only to be eradicated and wiped free from the world.
Knowing that didn’t set well with me.
5
The dossier was extremely detailed. At nearly five-hundred pages in length, it arrived in a pair of binders that were stretched to the brim and almost impossible to hold in two hands.
“What does it say?” Aerrick asked, peering over my shoulder to look at the binders spread out before me.
“I don’t know,” I replied, adjusting my position and the first of the two dossiers on the bed. “I haven’t started reading yet.”
He settled down beside me and waited while I gave the first few pages a precursory glance—noting, in fine detail, the arrangements that were to be made with us specifically and the changes that had been made to our financial and personal histories. Given the first letter of his name, Aerick’s name appeared first, and the immediate thing I noticed was that his social security number contained an extra digit.
“See that?” I asked, pointing to his social.
“Yeah,” Aerick said, leaning forward. “I’ve got an extra number.”
“What do you think that means?”
“Denoting supernatural status?” Aerick offered.
I shrugged and continued to scan down the list until I came to Guy’s information. Though I’d never been privy to his personal information, I immediately took note of the fact that his social security number also contained an extra digit—and, when compared to mine, contained the exact same number as my Kaldr companion’s.
Shivering, now, from the reality that the United States government now knew that we were Supernatural Citizens, I reached up to brush my hands along my bare arms and took in a deep breath.
Aerick set a hand on my back. “You ok?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” I lied. “Don’t worry about me.”
I knew it was a hopeless cause—to lie and not expect Aerick to call me out on it. Truth was, I wasn’t fine. I wasn’t ok. I was near the breaking point, the precipice of insanity, the final threshold of a new and unfortunate existence. My life was never supposed to have been this way. It wasn’t supposed to have involved Kaldr, or Howlers, or Sanguine, or even the Kelda and the prophecies she’d foretold, nor was it supposed to have gone in the direction that it had upon meeting Guy. I should have been ignorant—completely, one-hundred-percent ignorant—but no. That man—that fucking intruder—had broken entry into Guy’s apartment and changed the course of history, all because an online hookup had revealed himself to be something other than human.
Rather than say anything, however, and risk upsetting the casual balance that existed within the small space, I skipped past the personal information—much of which detailed the removal of Guy and I’s involvement in what the Agency was referring to as ‘The Austin Incident’—before landing on a page that said discharge notice.
Aerick, at this point, leaned forward.
“We, of the United States Agency for Supernatural Affiliations, are officially discharging you from our protective custody and are assigning you to live in the greater Austin, Texas area of the United States,” I read, so Aerick wouldn’t have to.
“Go on,” my boyfriend said.
“It goes on to say that, ‘Though the matter of the Mass Witness has led to increased fear and paranoia over the Supernatural community, please be advised that you will be asked to operate within the context of the law or risk punishment from both regional and Agency jurisdictions.’”
“Which means—”
“We can’t use our powers,” I said.
“How do they expect us not to?” Aerick asked. “I mean, considering what all we can—”
“I think what they mean,” I started, “is that we’re discouraged from glamouring people. Your condition is chronic, Aerick, and unavoidable. Guy and I suffer from the effects of magic.”
“Ah. That makes sense. Go on.”
“It goes on to say that ‘Powers that are linked to Supernatural status are highly discouraged from being used unless in the most dire of circumstances. Please be advised that those who unjustly influence mortals will be prosecuted to the Agency’s fullest extent of the law, and may, in certain circumstances, lead to termination.’”
I grimaced at this last part—knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the United States government would use their new affiliations with the Agency to carry out any due punishment they felt was rightfully earned.
“So we lay low,” Aerick said. “Not make a scene. Be the most upstanding citizens we can possibly be.”
“We got a second chance,” I said. “A moment in time in which we can right all the wrongs that have been committed in the past.”
“What does it say about our rights as Supernatural citizens?” Aerick asked.
“That we have the right to seek employment without discrimination, housing without refusal, marriage and adoption benefits should we see fit.”
“So, basically: we’re safe.”
“As safe as non-discrimination ordinances will allow,” I said, then lifted my head as the door clicked and then opened to reveal Guy. “Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” he replied, kicking the door shut behind him. “What’re you guys doing?”
“Looking at these,” I replied, sighing.
Guy lowered his eyes to the dossiers spread out before Aerick and I. “Ah,” he said. “Our training manuals.”
“They don’t really expect us to read this entire thing, do
they?”
“We’re Supernatural citizens now, babe. We’re gonna have to follow a different set of rules. I already know Glamouring is out of the picture.”
“Did you—”
“Read it?” Guy asked. “No. I didn’t. I’ve only heard what’s being said in the halls.”
“Which is?”
“That the Agency is usurping our lives, our purpose, our abilities to survive. It’s worse for the Supernaturals who don’t appear human—like the Froglings, the Imps, the Centaurs.”
“Centaurs?” I laughed. “You can’t be serious.”
“And you can’t tell me you honestly doubt their existence after everything you’ve seen.”
I couldn’t, which was why I didn’t say anything in response.
“Figured,” Guy said as he approached. He settled down on the bed beside me and settled his head on my shoulder to look at the dossier before us. “So,” he said after a moment’s hesitation. “You going to read this and give Aerick and I the Cliff Notes version?”
“I suppose so,” I sighed. Given my background in English, I was used to reading long, drawn-out and often-painful sections of text. How would this be any different?
Knowing that it wouldn’t, I turned the page and began to read—hoping, for my sake and that of my two companions, that the rules and regulations outlined within would both benefit and protect us from the persecution that I knew was coming.
6
The amount of information was astonishing, the depth of its knowledge unlike anything I could’ve ever anticipated. It detailed, in layman’s terms and then in broader detail, everything that a Supernatural citizen could’ve ever possibly anticipated asking. From the rights afforded to us by the justice system, to those we had in hospitals, to what we could do when threatened by those individuals outside of the Supernatural sphere to what could happen if a so-called ‘Dark Age’ were to occur, nothing was left untouched.
