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Secrets The Walkers Keep: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Casters of Magic Series Book 1)

Page 7

by J. Morgan Michaels


  “Just go with me here.” She took the two dangly earrings she was wearing out of her ears and handed one to me. “Hold this in your hand and press your ear up against the wall.”

  I laughed under my breath at the ridiculousness of it all and shook my head.

  “Do it, come on,” Liv said.

  My ear scraped against the wall’s texture as I pressed up against it. Its thick coat of slate-colored paint reflected light from the fireplace in its grooves, illuminating Liv’s face is the most flattering way. She swung her head to move her golden hair away from her ear and joined me against the wall. We looked silly.

  She started whispering to herself and there was a certain cadence in her voice, even though she spoke so softly that I couldn’t make out the actual words. Her chant was slow at first, but then faster and faster. Then I started to hear voices coming from the wall.

  “Don’t be such a snot!” a young man’s voice said. “These people are from my office. We have to be polite, ya know?” His voice was so clear that he had to be standing on the other side of the wall.

  “Don’t call me a snot; these people are the snots,” a female voice shot back. I shuddered at the thought of the scene they were creating and everyone from work watching it unfold. “I’ve been trying to make all kinds of good conversation with these people and no one’s been givin’ me the time of day.” Her voice boomed with anger and hostility, but you could still hear the undertones of hurt in it.

  “Baby, I’m sorry. I know they can be kinda stuck-up sometimes, but it’s work and they’re the ones who pay me, so . . .” he cleared his throat, “maybe you could just calm down a little and we can try to get through it.”

  “Calm down? You want me to calm down? You’re such a prick!”

  The voices stopped, but the sound of an angry doorknob turning and high heeled shoes walking away took their place.

  “That didn’t look good,” my voice said.

  I jerked away from the wall and dropped the earring on the floor. It was my voice I had just heard . . . but it hadn’t come out of my mouth. Liv flashed me a triumphant smile before bending down to pick up her earring. “Well?”

  “What the hell was that?” I opened the study door and looked out at an empty hallway.

  “What are you looking for now?”

  “People,” I said, closing the door again. “I don’t understand what that was.” I plopped myself down on the plush leather couch next to the desk, scrunched my eyes, and ran my fingers nervously through my hair.

  “Am I gonna have to lay this out for you?” She sat down on the couch and put her hand calmly on my knee. “Okay,” she jingled the earring in her hand, “that was us listening to what just happened in this room before we walked in. Are you with me now?” She playfully bumped her shoulder into mine. “It’s a cool spell, right?”

  “It’s crazy that I’m listening to you like this is real. People don’t cast ‘spells’ Liv,” I said, throwing my fingers up into full-on air quotes.

  “Some do,” she said before leaning in and giving me a gentle, smooth kiss on my cheek. “Sorry, I didn’t think that was gonna be such a shock for you. I had a feeling you were like me when we first met, and then I was pretty sure that whatever I saw in the kitchen had some magic to it. I thought me showing you that spell might make it easier to open up to me, but I can see now this is much newer for you than I thought.” She patted me on the knee and got up.

  “I still don’t understand what just happened.”

  “I know you don’t.” She walked toward the door and opened it. “You will soon, but I think you’ve probably had all you can handle for tonight.”

  “Wait!” I rushed to stand. “What happens now?”

  She leaned against the wall and her beautiful locks of hair fell around her face. “What are you doing Friday night?”

  “No plans yet, why?”

  “You’ve got plans now. Meet me at Sweaty Betty’s at nine, we’ll go from there. Oh . . . and dress to impress, please.” She gave a confident wink and walked away.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “You’ll see,” she called without turning around.

  Chapter 8

  The rest of week continued without much sleep as I obsessively replayed the events of that night over and over in my head. Who was Liv, really? Were spells real? If so, would that mean my hallucinations were real too? There were too many questions, and yet, somehow, it didn’t matter what the answers were. They kept my mind occupied and unavailable to think about my mother’s death, and any relief from that was welcome.

  Sweaty Betty’s turned out to be the nickname for a local diner on the north end. Thanks, Google. It was a small little joint, carved into the corner of a major street. When I got there on Friday, I circled the surrounding blocks in my car for a while until I found a space behind a dumpster in another business’ lot.

  “Hey, hey,” Liv said when I finally entered the diner. “You’re late.” She was already eating a too-healthy looking salad.

  “I know. You didn’t mention that there’s nowhere to park here.” I signaled to the waitress, or the biker posing as a waitress, as she passed by us. “I’ll take whatever she has. And a water, please.”

  “Do you like tofu?” Liv asked me, holding up a white chunk of something on her fork.

  “Yeah, actually, can you make that with chicken?” I yelled to the waitress as she entered the kitchen. “That’s right. Chicken.”

  “Your loss, it’s good,” Liv said.

  “This place is kinda dead,” I said.

  “Yeah, it’s more popular during late night, but I wanted to get a quick bite before we head out, so I figured this would work.”

  When my salad arrived a few seconds later, my hopes that it was “fresh made” dwindled away. I figured I’d settle for no bugs. I fished through it with my fork, pushing the zesty Italian dressing off to the side.

  “Am I dressed impressively enough?” I asked, tugging at my dark blue, collared shirt. “Where are we going?”

  “It’s this place I hang out at a lot. I think you’ll like it.”

  “Oh yeah? Why?”

  “You’ll see. It’s a surprise.”

  What isn’t with you? I thought.

  The surprise was actually when she turned down a nearly deserted road behind the mall. I regretted leaving my car back at the diner as we passed the string of boarded-up factories and abandoned construction projects.

  Isn’t this how horror movies start?

  We pulled into a narrow alley between two tall, dark buildings. Passing the buildings exposed a huge parking lot that you couldn’t see from the road. It was packed with cars, spanning from the two buildings we’d just passed to the train tracks on the other side.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  Liv didn’t answer. She parked, and we walked up to a windowless door on the far side of the lot. All the building’s windows were painted black so you couldn’t see in, and there were no signs telling me where we were. Waves of bass from music inside shook the brick walls, and the closer we got to the building, the clearer the music got.

  Sex club? Underground dog fighting ring?

  “Nothing like that, relax,” Liv said, looking back to me.

  Had I said that out loud?

  “Welcome to Equinox,” she said, holding the door open for me.

  It looked like a normal bar, and that was weird to me. There was no reason why I shouldn’t have known about a bar that popular, one that could be full on a random Tuesday night.

  On our way to the bar, we passed a set of carpet-lined stairs going up to a glass-enclosed room on the second floor. The glass room overlooked the bar on three sides, and the stairs up to it were guarded by a living “do not enter” sign—a giant man with a shaved head and biceps bigger than most people’s heads, including mi
ne.

  The bar itself was massive, wrapping around the entire right side of the room and underneath a balcony attached to the glass room above us. A modest stage, flanked by large speakers and lights, lay dormant in the back of the room with its tattered curtains closed. The same type of curtain ran up all the walls, blocking every window in the old building.

  “Kettle One on the rocks, with a few splashes of pineapple juice,” I said to the bartender. “What do you want to drink?”

  “I’m good,” Liv said, taking out her phone. She leaned against the bar and eagerly typed out a message.

  “You’re not drinking?”

  “I will in a bit, don’t worry.”

  We sat down at a small cocktail table in the middle of the room and I started sipping on my drink. “So, this is nice,” I said.

  “Yeah, I like it.” She tilted her phone from the table to look at the display. It was hard to hear her over the loud music and the crowd, who cheered enthusiastically at some sporting event plastered on the twenty or so TVs around the room.

  “How come I’ve never heard of this place before?”

  “I don’t know. It’s one of those places you just have to know about, I guess.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. “They’ve got great bands and the drinks are cheap. He doesn’t advertise, so you just kind of find out about it from someone. Speaking of . . .”

  Liv turned to watch a man in an arresting black shirt walk up from behind her.

  “Hello, beautiful,” he said before hugging Liv. “How are you, Love?”

  “Hey, you. I’m good. Meet my friend Hat,” Liv said.

  “Interesting name,” he said, extending his hand. “Cooper here.” His voice had a hint of a British accent. His newish looking jeans and expensive sneakers made him appear relaxed, in a completely controlled way. His product-less black hair was a sight—curly in some places, straight in others, and unkempt allover. It was long enough to cover his eyes, but he had pushed it back, and shorter wisps stuck out behind his ears. It was so messy that it made it hard to guess his age. Liv was just a few months shy of thirty; maybe he was around the same?

  “Hi,” I said, shaking his hand nervously.

  Cooper looked me straight in the eyes when he shook my hand, as if he were giving me the five second evaluation. I wondered if I would get a copy of the report after. He was taller than me and had a small scar under his right eye, the kind that had healed over years ago but would forever distinguish his face from others.

  “Alright,” he said, letting go of my hand and turning to Liv. “So, where you been, Love?”

  “Oh, you know. Life and things.” Their bodies were so close as they spoke that I felt conspicuously left outside the conversation.

  “Of course, you know I would invite you upstairs, but . . .” he nodded slightly in my direction.

  Oh right, but this kid isn’t cool enough.

  Liv stood on her toes and whispered something in Cooper’s ear. He looked at me over her shoulder while she talked, scanning me again with his inquisitive eyes. More details for his report.

  This isn’t awkward at all.

  “Come on then,” Cooper said to me, as he wrapped her arm in his to pull her along.

  I downed the rest of my drink and shuffled quickly behind them. Cooper blew past the large man at the foot of the staircase, disappearing into the glass room above the bar. Liv was waiting in the middle of the stairs for me, but the man was entirely too large for me to pass without him moving, so I stood passively in front of him, waiting for either a meteor to fall from the sky and kill me, or for him to move. His nostrils flared at me and he crossed his arms. Air lightly whistled from his cave-like nostrils as he continued to block my path.

  “He’s good,” Liv said to the large man and he finally moved.

  The glass room that made up the second floor was an elaborate lounge-style area with a private bar and separate bathrooms. A few unfamiliar faces turned to look at us as we entered and the feeling in the room was . . . less than welcoming.

  “Everyone, this is Hat,” Cooper said, grabbing my shoulder and shaking me in a friendly way, “and you all know Liv.” A few of them waved or said hi, to Liv, not to me. The rest turned and went back to whatever they were doing before we walked in.

  “This is Justin, my right-hand man,” Cooper stepped back and pointed to a younger man on his right. He was maybe twenty, with fair white skin and flat blond hair. His jeans couldn’t be described as tight because, although small, they still hung off his slim body, and his long-sleeved graphic t-shirt was at best a child’s medium.

  I extended my hand toward Justin. “Hi.”

  “Hey,” he said, turning around and walking toward the couch without pretending to notice my hand.

  Okay then, not feeling the love.

  “This is the always-ravishing Elle,” Cooper continued, pointing to the woman on the couch. Elle had thick, jet-black hair that made waves from her head to her shoulders. Her backless, fire-red shirt and black leather pants complemented her precise make-up, and together they made her look like a rock star (or maybe a groupie). A clump of shiny silver bracelets that dangled off her wrist jingled as she tossed her hair over her shoulder, exposing a small, four leaf clover necklace with diamond accents that hung delicately from her neck. It was the only subtle thing about her.

  When Cooper noticed that no one else was coming forward to be introduced, he said, “Alright then. Justin, grab us two more, would you?”

  I sank into a large chair in the middle of the room. All the furniture looked like it came from someone’s living room, albeit someone rich’s living room. Two leather couches and another chair surrounded a frosted glass coffee table with metal hardware and a variety of fresh drink rings imprinted on the top. The bar had a few stools, and there were some small cocktail tables and chairs strewn about the room.

  Justin roughly handed me a glass full of a clear blue liquid, and I tilted it against the light to try to figure it out. It looked more like mouthwash than any liquor I had ever seen, but there was also something serene about it. It was clearer than the Pacific Ocean off the coast of Hawaii and the ice cubes almost sounded mellow as they clinked against the side of the glass.

  “Try it. You’ll like it,” Cooper said with a confident nod.

  I took a quick sniff over the drink before putting it to my lips.

  Wow.

  “It’s vodka and pineapple,” I said, sniffing it again.

  “For you,” Liv said. “Mine tastes just like our favorite California wine.” She held up her glass to Cooper’s. I suspected that it wasn’t the first time they’d shared a bottle of their favorite wine, although it might have been the first time they had shared it with their clothes on.

  “What is it?” I asked, taking another sip.

  “It’s called Blue Ice,” Cooper said, sipping his own glass of the mysterious mixture. “It can taste like whatever you want it to taste like.”

  “How?” The drink was so spellbinding that I didn’t look up from it when I spoke.

  “What do you mean, how?” Cooper asked with a laugh. “Don’t worry yourself with how. Just think about what you want to drink, and drink.”

  Was it that simple? I was suspicious, but I took another sip and thought about beer, which I hated, and immediately stuck my tongue out.

  Definitely beer. Gross.

  “It’s the house specialty,” Cooper said. “Ingredients are top secret though, so don’t ask.” He held his glass up to mine, clinking them together before taking another sip. “Best part though, no hangovers.”

  “And no calories,” Elle added.

  “Right. The birds always love that part. But keep it all under your . . . hat, yes?” Cooper said.

  I would have laughed if I wasn’t so distracted by the drink, and if that was funny.

  “
All we need is for the police to start rummaging around here again, looking for something they wouldn’t understand if it bit them,” Cooper said.

  It didn’t take long for the group to completely lose interest in me. Cooper and Liv landed in a deep conversation, one that I wasn’t being invited to join, their animated faces only inches from each other as they spoke. But it didn’t really matter, because I was still wrapped up in trying to explain Blue Ice to myself. I finished my drink, to the taste of vodka and not beer, and saw that there was a pitcher of it sitting on the bar.

  “Do you mind?” I asked Cooper, holding up my empty glass and gesturing toward the bar.

  “Go on then,” Cooper said, waving at the bar without turning to look at me.

  A woman sitting at the bar in a sleek white dress and matching headband lit a cigarette as I approached to pour myself another glass. “Can I bum one of those?” I asked her. She handed me one without responding. “Thanks. Wait, we can’t really smoke in here, can we?”

  “We can do whatever we want in here,” she said, wrapping her redwood-colored lips around the cigarette and getting up.

  These people love me.

  “So, Hat, tell us about your powers then?” Cooper asked when I returned to the sitting area. His hand was resting securely on Liv’s thigh.

  I looked at Liv and took an uneasy sip of my drink. Everyone was watching me and waiting for a response to a question I didn’t understand. A few more seconds of silence and Cooper asked, “Are you sure he’s a Caster?”

  Liv left me in my discomfort for a few more seconds before finally laughing and saying, “Oh, he is. He’s just new, and he doesn’t know what that means yet.”

  “Oooohhh,” Elle cooed in a low voice and sat on my lap. “How innocent . . . it’s like you’re a virgin.”

  “No, I’m not a . . . ,” I started.

  “It’s okay baby,” she said, putting her arm around my shoulder and leaning in to kiss me. Her lipstick was sticky and left a noticeable residue on my cheek. “I think it’s cute.”

  “But I’m not a . . .”

 

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