by Larissa Ladd
I pushed the button to buzz her up anyway, thinking that I couldn’t just say no. That would make matters infinitely worse. After few seconds, I heard a tentative knock on the door.
Alex stayed in the bedroom. I didn’t know what it was with him, he usually loved people so much, but there was something about Cherry that made him nervous lately, so I let him stay there if that’s what he wanted.
When I pulled the door open, she was standing in the hallway and she looked spectacular. I didn’t want to think so because I was angry with her, but her cheeks were flushed a bright red, and her usually perfect red hair was slightly disheveled. Her bright green eyes were sparkling, and she looked beautiful.
“Can I come in?” she asked carefully, and I pulled myself out of my stupor and stepped aside.
“Look, about last night…” she said, and walked into the middle of the lounge. She didn’t sit down; she looked like she was unsure if she was welcomed here. Until a second ago, I had decided she wasn’t, but after seeing her, I had changed my mind.
“I’m sorry,” she carried on when I didn’t urge her. “You were right. I was being ridiculous, trying to take the easy way out when I know what I feel for you.”
I blinked. My vision was still a little blurry from sleep. I walked to my favorite bean bag and sat down. Cherry took her cue from me and perched on the edge of the couch, looking like she was ready to flee if she needed to.
“You’re not here to fight about it?” I asked, knowing that I sounded dumb but it was just so strange for her to give in. We had gotten stuck a couple of times, and she’d never just given up without getting her part in.
“I’m not. I love you, and I want to try. I just came here to say that. You can…” She looked down at her hands, and, for a second, she looked like she was going to cry, “You can do what you want. If you don’t want to do this anymore…” She wanted to say more but her voice caught in her throat.
I got up and sat next to her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. She looked so vulnerable, I wanted to protect her.
“I do still want to do this,” I said, pushing my face into her hair, and she nodded slightly, not trusting herself to speak.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and she swallowed hard before she spoke.
“I’m sorry too.”
She spent the rest of the day with me. She pulled her large sweater off and we climbed into bed. She cuddled up to me, put her head on my chest, and slept like she hadn’t slept for days.
I lay next to her, holding her, listening to her deep, even breathing. The warmth of her body against mine slowly spread through me, like I had been frozen since she’d dropped the news on me, and I was finally thawing.
She was going to do something, try something, to keep us together. She’d said so herself. She’d looked so vulnerable, so scared of the idea of losing me, I couldn’t help but forgive her for what she’d done. Cherry crying was such an unusual sight that I buckled at the very first signs of it.
But now, I was starting to wonder. It all seemed very decided from what I could understand, the idea that she was forced to marry someone because of her status in the coven. And she had said that they would come down on her even worse than they had before if she didn’t do what they said. How would she stand up against them? I knew she wanted to protect me, and that she would put me before her own happiness if it came down to it. I would have done the same, in fact, I would have done it if she hadn’t found out about me not being human either. I would have broken it off with her, to save her and to save my family.
What I really didn’t like, the more I thought about it, was the idea of this man being forced on her. Who was he anyway? And would he respect her if she said no? Or would he be like the rest of them and attack her if it came down to it? What kind of a man was a witch? Cherry was a different story; we got along for a reason that neither of us could understand, but there was a reason fae and witches were natural enemies.
We were there to stop witches from doing what they did their victims, the innocent and ignorant people, and in my eyes, even though Cherry was a witch herself, that included her. I hadn’t ever seen anyone as ignorant as she was and with as little blood on her hands as she had. I didn’t believe she’d ever done something to harm a human, not unless she was being threatened, which counted for the witches she’d harmed as well.
But the whole idea of this man who was in the picture now unsettled me. It annoyed me, and, if I really had to admit it, it made me jealous. I knew I had no reason to worry; at least, I didn’t think I did. Cherry had just told me that she was willing to make this work. But I was a male like any other, and my woman was my woman.
I lay there, my emotions building, my annoyance flaring up, until I couldn’t lie still anymore. I carefully slid out from under her, and she sighed with the movement, but she was in a deep sleep. I walked out of the bedroom and paced the living room. The whole thing sat uncomfortably in my chest as I played her words over in my mind, her words of the night before when she said she didn’t have a choice, they would hunt her, and her words of today when she said she wanted to try.
And I didn’t really know if what she said would be possible. All the reassurance I had earlier slipped away, and I was left alone with questions and doubt.
Chapter 5: Cherry - The Other Man
I woke up in Devan’s bed, and smiled at the familiar ceiling above me, the ceiling that told me things were alright again. At least, alright enough for me to be waking up in this room.
Devan’s side of the bed was empty; the spot where he usually slept was cold when I ran my hand over it, and I slipped out from underneath the covers to find him. He was in the living room, facing the TV, but the screen was dark and the control lay on the side table on the far side of the room.
“Hey,” I said softly, and when he looked up, his face looked trouble for a second before a smile pushed away the dark clouds and broke through like a burst of sunlight. I had been worried just for a moment, but when he smiled at me like that and his dark eyes looked at me like I was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, even after so long, the uncertainty vanished.
He put together a light supper and we sat talking in the dusk that dimmed the room for a long time. Finally, when it was so dark in the apartment that I could only make out the silhouette of his face, it was time to leave.
Things felt like they used to. For the most part, anyway. We had had quite a stumble; the fights we had were never light, but somehow through the strain and the formality of the new us, it felt like it did before. I kissed him lightly and hugged him before I left, and his smell lingered on my clothes long after I’d walked through my own front door.
The next few days passed in a blur, I slept well at night and I saw Devan often, often enough for the last of my worries to slowly disappear.
One morning, a few days later, I ran down to the convenience store on the corner to get milk. When I walked into the store, Mason was at the till, paying for a loaf of bread.
“Hi,” he said and smiled at me. His smile didn’t brighten up his face like someone had switched the light on, the way Devan’s did. Instead it spread slowly across his face and his features slowly changed, like the dawn lighting everything up and slowly replacing the darkness.
His pale blue eyes were striking, brought out by the blue-grey shirt he was wearing, and his white-blond hair had been cut since I last saw him, and it was sticking up in all directions on his head. It made him look comical and attractive all at the same time.
“Hey,” I replied, trying to sound casual, but to be honest, I was freaking out. My heart was racing and my palms were sweaty. I remember what he’d said about reading minds, and I pushed myself to get the barriers in mine up as quick as possible. He was so close to my home, so close to my escape from it all, and because he was so close to me, it meant he was that close to finding out about Devan.
But again I didn’t feel him try to get into my mind; I didn’t feel him try to do anything at all. The only thing
he did was wait until I had finished paying, and then asked if I’d like to take a walk with him. I don’t know why, but I said yes.
We walked down the road, away from my apartment. I didn’t want him to know where it was, to pick up that there was something I didn’t want him to find if we came too close to it. He was swinging the plastic bag with the bread back and forth by his side with every step, and I clutched my bottle of milk against my chest, folding my arms around it. The cold bottle sent chills through my body, making me shiver.
“How long have you been part of the coven?” he asked.
“Since I was a little girl. My dad insisted my sister and I go along every time there was a meeting.”
“That would explain your power I’ve heard so much about. The longer you’re there, the more time you have to hone it.”
“My sister was there just as long as I, but she doesn’t have what I have.” I felt defensive and cheated at the same time. I didn’t want it to sound like anyone could have had what I have if they’d just spent long enough practicing it. I was different than them, stronger. I also didn’t want him to know that I felt that way, that my power was something I wanted to talk about like it was everyone’s business. Ever since I could remember, I had hidden what I had because others were jealous, and later because I didn’t want to be the high priestess, which I was now. I felt like he tricked me into acknowledging it.
“Most people only find out their gifts and calling much later in life,” he said, and I nodded, knowing what he meant. A lot of the witches didn’t know what they were, but only found out they weren’t human when it turned out they had powers that their parents or friends didn’t. They were completely new, they were reckless or stupid with what they could do and they had to be trained from scratch. I suppose I did have a head start to them, both my parents being witches, a couple, which hardly ever existed in these circles. Still, I was special, and who was he to tell me any different?
As if sensing my internal conflict, he talked about himself instead. “I was a child too when I found out, but my parents didn’t know,” he said, and then he told me how he’d discovered what he was and how he’d found more, joining them as soon as he could without his parents knowing.
“It’s just hard finding someone who has the same kind of life,” he added at the end, “finding someone who understands how sacrificial your life is, how little of you is left once you have to do everything for everyone else because it’s your duty.”
I nodded. I knew exactly how he felt. I had felt like that my whole life, until I met Devan. He never made me feel like anything I chose was for anyone other than myself.
The moment I thought about him I blocked my mind off and raised the barriers, just in case. I could relax when he wasn’t on my mind, but I was scared that Mason would catch me off guard and read my mind like a diary, finding out all my darkest secrets. He seemed deep in thought though.
“You know, at one point in my life, I thought that it would be better to just not be who I was,” he said, and I looked at him. The profile of his face was serious, and I decided that reading my mind wasn’t on his agenda today. I focused on the conversation again.
“What did you do?” I asked, really wanting to know. I knew what I had done.
“Well, for a while, I tried to be one of them, to be human. But we don’t fit in with them, do we?” the question seemed genuine, not rhetorical, and he waited long enough for me to nod unsurely before he carried on. “But then, I realized that even if I did lead a normal life, I would be misunderstood. I would never be able to live to my full capacity, and I would never be the kind of person that anyone could relate to. It would be very lonely for me. And witches don’t do well with loneliness.”
He was painting a picture of my life with his words. The more he spoke, the more it felt like he was reading my diary, without having to read my mind.
“So you decided to go back?” I asked.
“I decided not to fight who I was. It would be a waste for me to bestow my affections on someone who would never be able to reciprocate them, not really. And it would be a waste for me to throw away the powers I had been born with. By that time, I had developed them quite a lot, and I was one of the strongest witches in the coven. I realized that if I really wanted to enrich my life, it would be better for me to embrace who I was, instead of fighting it.”
I was quiet. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore, didn’t want him to say all the things I had been thinking and feeling my whole life. No one would understand what it felt like to be me, not even Mason, who had gone through much of the same, because no one else had Devan. No one else loved the enemy, no one felt calm in just being able to be without having to pay something for it in return. That was what being a witch was to me, the chance to be myself as long as I paid my dues.
We walked in silence a bit further; then Mason stopped.
“I have to leave you,” he said, and looked at me with his gentle blue eyes. “Thank you for walking with me; the break was good. I’ll see you soon.” He reached out and squeezed my arm before he walked away.
I sighed and turned to walk back to my own apartment. It was several blocks away now.
I fought with myself all the way. He was just here to convince me that the life he offered was better than the one I had. His words sound so attractive, so easy, to just accept who I was and to stop fighting everything I did all the time.
But I wouldn’t fall for it. His smile was warm and his eyes were gentle, but he was here to take away my happiness, to rob me of the man who had saved me from an empty life. He was right about loneliness, though; witches didn’t do well when they were lonely, and that was why I had entertained myself by making others feel uncomfortable around me. It had been a pastime to make the loneliness less so. But then Devan had come along, and when I was with him, I wasn’t so alone anymore. In fact, when we had broken up, it had felt like a big black hole had opened up in my chest and had sucked every last bit of life out of me, until I’d gotten him back.
It was with these thoughts that I finally climbed the stairs back to my apartment, and when I put the key in the lock to unlock it, I thought of his eyes again. The soft, pale blue of it that smiled along with his mouth, that looked at me so warmly, and I wondered how it was possible that there was witch who wasn’t hostile toward me in some way or another.
It was because he didn’t know about Devan, I told myself. I convinced myself that it was only out of ignorance of my situation that he seemed to be charming toward me. I resolved not to fall for it.
Chapter 6: Devan - Jealousy
I slammed down the phone on the nightstand and groaned. I wanted to throw the phone against the wall instead, but I controlled myself. This was the third time I was getting put straight through to Cherry’s answering machine throughout the day, and I was starting to think about going to go look for her.
But I was just being ridiculous. I knew I couldn’t do that.
It had been like this for the past couple of days now. I didn’t see her nearly as often as I used to, every time I wanted to make plans with her, she said she had meetings with the coven. That was also the only time her phone wasn’t on, when she was with them. But this had only been since the new witch had arrived. And I didn’t like it.
Cherry had been high priestess for a while and it had never been this grueling. Yes, they required her to be there at least once a week usually, but she had never been there this often. This was really getting to me.
And what other reason could there be than the fact that Cherry was supposed to be marrying this man? Just the thought of it sent me into a fit of rage. I had to focus, concentrate on keeping my breathing calm and getting myself back under control. There weren’t a lot of things that got me this angry, but if someone tampered with Cherry, my fiancée, I was bound to get livid.
The biggest problem with my anger wasn’t the fact that I was angry in the first place, I had been angry plenty of times and I knew how to deal with it. It was t
he fact that for the first time in my life, my anger was connecting to my powers. I could feel them burning inside me when my mood flared up. My hands itched and burned, and something furious built up in my chest just begging to be released, waiting to explode. And that was something I couldn’t allow.
I went to her apartment. The sun was already low in the sky, the last warmth of the afternoon slowly slipping away. That was another thing that bothered me about this, the fact that the meetings went on for so long. She never used to be away longer than a couple of hours, usually coming back before the morning was over. But now she was there until sunset.
I put the key she had given me into the lock, and Kitten greeted me with a string of mews when I pushed the door open into the quiet apartment. I checked her food bowl, filled her water bowl, and then settled myself on the couch.
It was another hour or so before Cherry came home. I had been sitting in the living room, with the dusk wrapping itself around me and the grey of the evening settling onto everything, draining their colors, and I had waited, counting the long minutes tick past.
Then finally I’d heard her on the stairs, the familiar jingle as she pulled out her keys, and then the lock. I hadn’t locked it behind me, and she pushed the door open, looking wary.
“Hi,” I said from the dim room when she popped her head around the door.
“Oh, it’s you,” she said, sounding relieved. “I was sure I had locked this when I left.”
She came in, closed the door behind her, and walked down the short passageway to drop her bag in her room. Then she came back to the living room.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, sitting down next to me.
She looked tired, with circles under her eyes, but her green eyes were alive and dancing.
“I just wanted to spend some time with you. We hardly see each other anymore.”
She smiled and said, “That’s sweet of you; but not a late night, okay? I have to be out early tomorrow.”
