by Jen Ponce
“Sounds like there’s someone out there more vicious than we are,” I said. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t say anything to her about what had happened or my hand in it. “Can I sleep now?”
She made an impatient noise. “We’re supposed to go to the art walk today, remember? With Connor and Payton.”
I rolled my eyes. Why the Hell had I agreed to a double date? Especially a blind date? The peer pressure had been strong, as had the alcohol. Poppy and Connor had totally taken advantage of my inebriation to secure my acquiescence. Bastards. “Now?” I put as much whine into the word as I could.
“In an hour. But I know how slow you are to wake up. So yeah, now. Go shower and put your face on. You’re going to love Payton.”
I made an ugly face at the ceiling. “I bet I won’t,” I muttered, then rolled out of bed and hit the shower.
I put on my most goth face, unwilling to try hard to impress a guy named Payton, then slipped into a short skirt and a tight top, so Poppy wouldn’t get too suspicious. If she knew I wasn’t going to try at all, she’d pout and hound me about being nicer to her boyfriend’s friends. The goth makeup would be Payton’s warning to stay back, and if he didn’t take it well, he’d learn.
My new philosophy was, once you fucked demons, your own kind held no interest.
Thinking about last night made lust uncurl in my belly, and I glanced at the clock, wondering if I had time to take care of it before we had to leave, but it was five ‘til and I didn’t want to be interrupted mid-rub. That would only make it worse.
I scowled at Poppy when I finally left my room. “Don’t you dare try to make plans with me while I’m drunk again, lady. I will beat your ass.”
“You look … terrifyingly hot.”
I plopped a hand on my hip. “What’s the matter? Don’t think Payton can handle it?”
She didn’t answer, wisely, and off we went downstairs.
Connor had a convertible and he was waiting curbside for us. I liked the idea of a car, but I inwardly scowled harder when I saw the man in the backseat. He had long, messy brown hair and wore a brown burlap sack shirt. Okay, it wasn’t really burlap, but it kind of looked like it. His pants were made of the same type of fabric, but they were lighter in color. It wasn’t that he wasn’t handsome in a, “I stole the scarecrow’s clothes” way, but he was so not my type.
He cocked a brow and gave me a one-fingered wave. I bet he called women babe, liked to mansplain, and ate granola for breakfast.
I climbed into the car and suffered through the awkward intros and then we were speeding through Hell’s Mudroom to the far south side by the water. Payton didn’t try making conversation, which relieved me, and I’d almost relaxed by the time we’d parked. When I went to get out of the car, he said, “Need help?”
“Nope.” I climbed out and adjusted my skirt, since it had ridden up, then caught Payton staring at my ass. I held back a snarky comment as we followed Connor and Poppy, who were holding hands and looking five kinds of in love.
“So, Korri, what do you do for a living?”
I squinted at him, trying to figure out how he wouldn’t know what I did. Surely he knew where Poppy worked. I explained, and he finger-gunned me.
“Right. I install HVAC systems.” My brain glazed over. He must have seen the extreme disinterest because he laughed. “I get that look a lot. People don’t care until their AC goes out. Then they’re interested in my work. Anyway, I make good money and have nice benefits.”
Dear crow, kill me now, I thought as he went on to describe a typical day. He didn’t shut up the entire time we looked at the first piece of art and, in fact, didn’t shut up at all until I said, “Shut. Up.”
The words faltered in his mouth. He opened and shut it a couple times, then said, “What?”
“We’re here to enjoy the art. Leave your job at your job and enjoy that.” I gestured.
The painting was of a woman in a red dress standing in front of a fiery circle. She was deciding on a path to take, I thought as I gazed at it. Should she go into the circle or walk away from it? I knew my preference; I’d always walk toward the danger. But perhaps she was a different sort who needed stability to make her feel alive.
“What do you think about it?” I asked him.
His face was a bit mottled, whether from the walking or asking him to be quiet I didn’t know. Finally, he said, “She looks angry.”
I frowned and turned back to the painting. We couldn’t see her face. “What makes you say that?”
“The way her fist is clenched.”
Sure enough, her hand was balled up at her side. I hadn’t noticed that. “What do you think she’s angry about?”
“HVAC systems guys talking to her about their jobs,” he said, and the deadpan delivery made me laugh.
“Sorry. True, but sorry.”
“No worries. I tend to blabber when I’m nervous.” His smile was easy this time, relaxed, and I found myself returning it. “I’m really not as boring as I sometimes make myself out to be.”
“Understood. And I’m not as bitchy as I sometimes make myself out to be.”
“Duly noted.”
We moved on and I found myself enjoying the day and Payton’s company. No, he was no demon and I didn’t have any interest in him physically, but I discovered he was a good conversationalist and his humor made every painting a bit better.
I didn’t notice the crystal heating up until he pointed at it. “I think you might be allergic.”
“What?” I looked down at my chest and discovered that my skin where the crystal touched was red and the crystal itself was hot. I lifted it up and blew on it to cool it down, whispering, “What the Hell, Malphas?” when Payton turned to talk to Connor and Poppy about our lunch plans.
He didn’t answer, of course, but the crystal cooled down enough I could let it touch my skin again.
When they’d figured out lunch, a small bar on the bank of the Chugwater River, we walked through the ratty little park to our destination. Connor and Poppy held hands and walked ahead of us, trying to make it a romantic-type thing despite the sound of motors going by a few feet away and the slight smell of pee that permeated the area. Hell’s Mudroom had a homeless population and even though we tried hard to make sure everyone had a place to stay, there just wasn’t enough space or resources to house everyone. It fucking sucked, especially the part where sometimes people had to pee outside. Peeing outside was never fun no matter the circumstances. Having no other choice but to do it made it worse.
Payton kept bumping into me, deliberately no doubt, his casual chatter relaxed and easy. I envied him for that. I had a hard time making small talk, though when I was with someone who had that talent, I could chatter back. That’s what we did now, though after the fifth time he bumped into me, he jumped back, cursing.
“What?”
He rubbed his elbow. “You shocked me.”
“I didn’t—” I started, then realized it had probably been Malphas. “My magic sometimes gets the better of me when people get too touchy. You know? Nothing against you.”
“Right,” he said, a little warily, but we continued companionably enough and he kept his distance.
The restaurant served catches fresh from the Chugwater, the catfish particularly tasty. We ordered, got our beers, and then Poppy said, “You guys having fun?”
I gave her what I hoped was a subtle death glare, but she ignored me and turned her bright eyes on Payton.
He glanced at me, then nodded. “Yeah. I mean, it was rough going there at the beginning. I almost ruined it with the HVAC stuff but …”
“Dude, I told you not to lead with that,” Connor said.
Payton shrugged.
Behind us, the TV blared, some game or other on. Connor nodded to it. “Haterz versus Goblin Tribe. Grudge match. The Gobs will wipe the field with them.”
“Nah. The Goblins?”
And then they were off and running. I scooted closer to Poppy and she bumped shoulde
rs with me. This touch didn’t warm the medallion or shock her. Hypocrite, I thought in amusement.
“Having fun?” she asked, her eyes full of hope.
“I suppose.” We both looked at Payton.
“He’s not a demon.”
“Nope.” I considered my demons—they were mine, now, I’d decided—and shook my head. “Hell to the no. But he’s nice enough. Couple weeks ago? He might’ve even had a chance.” I shrugged. Grandmother would hate him. A witch, and a poor one at that, and one with no taste in clothes. She’d put a hit out on him and punish me with cocktail parties.
“Ah well. I tried.”
“You really are a great friend you know.”
She grinned at me, then her eyes went to the TV where the game had been interrupted by a news bulletin. I turned when I saw her face.
“Sometime last night, Kyle Klein was brutally murdered in his West Londerary home. Brandon Dravos, Keeper of the Highest Order of Lodge 2, believes this to be the work of a rogue witch, one with a grudge against the Conventus Magi. Although it’s just speculation at this time, unnamed sources from the Conventus Lodge believe this may be the work of a serial killer.”
Poppy made a strangled noise and I realized I’d made a very big mistake.
25
Poppy shoved back from the table, waving Connor back to his seat when he went to follow. “Just Korri,” she hissed and so I got up obediently, the small roil of guilt in my stomach an annoyance I didn’t want to deal with. I had nothing to feel guilty about, or so I tried to convince myself. Kyle had been on our hit list. Now he was dead, never to torment Poppy again. Surely she would understand when I told what happened, how it happened.
She spun around when we were in relative isolation, near the end of a short pier that bounced under us with the Chugwater’s movement. “What the fuck, Korri?”
I glanced around us, but she snapped her fingers under my nose.
“Answer me, damn it.”
“First of all, you need to calm down.”
Her face reddened, the dark color on her cheeks getting darker with the flush of blood. “Never in the history of calm down, has anyone calmed down by being told to calm down!”
A small tingle of anger rose inside me, but I pushed it back. “Sorry. I just … we’re in public, Poppy.”
“What did you do?” she hissed. “Why did you do it without me? When?”
I glanced around then leaned in. “The night I went to Adam’s place. We argued and I left. I … ran into Kyle. It felt like fate. And then … and then he unleashed his demon on me and I … lost it.”
Her lip trembled. I thought she was going to cry … and then she lashed out and slapped me. “You bitch.”
“Poppy!”
Over her shoulder, I could see Connor and Payton gawking at us now, though Connor looked concerned and Payton … well, the dopey look of confusion on his face pretty much matched his clothes and personality.
Poppy’s hissing words brought my attention back to her. “You … you … you fucking fucked those damned demons. You got caught up with them, you did that and forgot me. Me! Your friend. We were supposed to do this together. He hurt me. Me! Not you. Me. And you … you just …” She swiped at the tears that were falling furiously from her eyes. “I thought you were doing this for me, but you get your own sick thrill out of it, don’t you? You just like … killing, don’t you?”
I wanted to protest, I wanted to remind her that yeah, I did like the killing. Hadn’t I confessed that to her on one of those long nights where neither of us could sleep after a kill, when my feelings of guilt over the murders had still been loud voices in my head? Hadn’t she held me and told me it was all right, that I was still me? That it would never change our friendship? Almost defiantly, I said, “Yeah, I do.”
The look of hurt triumph made my heart ache.
I said, “You know what else I like? You. I’ve been doing this for you. I’ve been risking my ass, risking my life, risking my freedom for you. Yeah, I like the killing. You know what else? I like setting things right. And I know. I’m sorry I took him but I … it was such a good opportunity. I couldn’t pass it up.” I paced away from her and rubbed at my check, annoyed that she’d slapped me, annoyed that a part of me thought I deserved a hell of a lot more than that. “I needed it. And he was there and he fucking … he fucking denied knowing you. He lied about it, was an asshole about it, right up until the end.”
“I don’t want to hear it. Not now. Damn it, Korri. He was mine. Mine. My choice. Damn you.”
“Poppy, I’m sorry. Okay? I’m sorry. It was an impulse, something I needed. Okay?”
“You needed it? Oh, so that’s what this is about now? Your needs? Damn you’re selfish.”
Payton and Connor were both staring at us as if we were insane. Hell, the entire restaurant had turned to watch the show and I thrashed back over our conversation, wondering if we’d said anything loud enough for them to hear over the rush of the river against the shores. And as I thought of that, I realized I still wasn’t focused on Poppy as a good friend would have been. I was worried about myself.
Hell, she was right. I was selfish.
“Poppy.”
“Was the Pig slaughter you too? You and your demons?” She spit out the last word as if it tasted bad in her mouth. “You know what? I don’t want to know.” She shoved past me and stomped back to Connor, every line of her body vibrating with anger. I started after her, but the medallion warmed as if in warning.
She glanced back once, a scowl on her face and then she and her boyfriend left without me. Payton, unfortunately, stayed where he was.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. Anger warred with tears, but damned if I was going to cry out here where people could see me, and I certainly knew better than to cry in front of Payton. He’d take it as some sort of signal that I liked him.. When I got back to the table, the waiter was there looking concerned; probably that we were going to run out on the bill. I threw down a couple twenties for a meal I hadn’t really gotten to enjoy and smiled stiffly at Payton. “I’m going to head home.”
“Okay. Uh. Sorry? You okay?”
I shrugged, unwilling to go into it. “Poppy’s dealing with some things,” is all I said. “Nice to meet you, Payton.”
“You too. You, uh, you want to hang out sometime? Again?”
The medallion between my breasts stayed silent on the subject. “I don’t think I’m the right kind of woman for you.”
He sighed. “It was the HVAC thing, wasn’t it?”
It was the ‘you’re not a demon’ thing, but I couldn’t say that exactly, now could I? “It’s a me thing, which is fucking cliché, I know. Seriously though, you don’t want to date me. Promise.”
He shrugged. “Whatever.”
Right. I didn’t stay behind to talk him out of whatever funk he was getting himself into. I didn’t have the time or the inclination for it. Instead, I made my way back to the apartment on foot. I needed time to walk off the anger that was boiling inside me. I didn’t want to be mad at Poppy. Didn’t want to put that on the shoulders of a woman who’d already experienced so much but damn it. Wasn’t she being unreasonable?
No. She wasn’t.
But she was. I was the one putting my ass on the line, I was risking everything for her and sure, sure, it wasn’t like I had to. I was doing it for her, yeah, but she hadn’t asked me too. I’d volunteered.
She’d agreed readily enough, sure, but I had wanted to do it. And maybe I’d wanted to do it more for me than her, but it wasn’t just for her either. It was for my daddy and mama, and for all the witches fucked over by the Lodge.
It was for her, sure, but it was bigger than her.
Music from a nearby bar spilled out onto the street, a song lousy with guitar and twang. I passed tiny little mom and pop stores, magic shops, bookstores, all the lovely places that the denizens of Hell’s Mudroom could find comfort in. Places like these made the WD a place worth living, even if it was
a ratty place, even though it was a place where eight people had to cram into a tiny third-floor walk-up. It was why I loved it here, it’s why I lived here instead of with Grandmother in her freaking mansion.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, then crossed the street to my place, noticing Grandmother’s car at the curb with a frown. What the Hell did she want now?
Dempsey wasn’t in the car which meant he was waiting for me upstairs. I rolled my eyes and took the steps slowly, wishing I didn’t have to deal with anyone right now, least of all my grandmother’s man.
When I finally got up to the landing, it wasn’t just Dempsey on my doorstep, but Grandmother too.
Grandmother. In Hell’s Mudroom.
“Korrinthe,” she said, sounding almost relieved to see me, which was weird. “Get your things. We need to get you out of here.”
“What are you talking about, Grandmother?”
She shot a disgusted glance at the door across from mine. “Not out here. Let us talk inside. Briefly. And then we need to leave. You understand? Quickly.”
“What’s going on? I’m not leaving my home.”
Grandmother grabbed my arm, her fingers strong for an older woman. “Inside.”
I jerked my arm free but unlocked the door, unwilling to let anyone see me and my grandmother argue it out in the hallway. I’d never live it down.
Grandmother’s face tightened, but she didn’t curl her lip. I was impressed at her self-control and hoped her head wouldn’t explode with restraining her disgust. Okay, the apartment wasn’t bad and Poppy and I weren’t messy by any means, but it wasn’t a three-hundred-year-old mansion with all the modern updates either.
I shut the door behind us and locked it, glancing around for signs of Poppy even though I knew she’d probably gone over to Connor’s house, unwilling to chance seeing me again. Eventually we’d have to talk about this, and I hoped she’d forgive me … even as that dark part of me hoped she choked on her anger.
