by Evelyn Snow
I smiled to myself as I watched him neatly redirect Kerri’s ferocious attention away from me. He was so good at it Kerri rarely noticed, and she didn’t miss much.
Holden was such a good guy—too good for the oh-so-entitled Cassandra Storm. He couldn’t see it though. One of these days I needed to do something about that. My fingers closed around the badge in my pocket.
What was the point of being a witch if you couldn’t help your friends?
Chapter 10
We hung out longer than we should have at The Demon’s Horn considering the early bridge closure.
Ballard ran the crossing like his private between-the-worlds fiefdom. The powers that be seemed satisfied with his job performance, though, so no one could do anything about his strange rules and random schedule. Not even Devi Talbot, and I’d listened to her complain about the bridge tender, often enough.
The power of rigid rules and procedures did absolutely nothing to prevent me from pondering what I could do about them. Clearly, I wasn’t in charge of the universe. Sometimes the idea niggled around in the back of my head. What if? That it did was probably the main reason my aunt and uncle lost sleep. I got the idea honestly. It came from one of my few memories—my dad telling me stories before bed. He’d end each one saying, with magic in your veins, anything is possible.
While I believed in the power of magic utterly, I had more practical moments. I considered how important it was for the trans-dimensional structure to be safe. Then it was easier to deal with all the ways Ballard made me crazy. That traveling from one realm to another had become normal—even commonplace—was a miracle. Like everything else, it was easy to get used to miracles until they turned into one more part of a ho-hum day.
“Are you sure your aunt and uncle won’t mind me visiting?” Kerri asked when we reached the door to her dorm on the Battenborne campus. Her brow creased with worry. “I won’t be an imposition? The conference isn’t for another month, so there’s plenty of time for me to find another place to stay.”
“No worries. They love you. Uncle Delano keeps hoping you’ll rub off on me, and I’ll go back to college. Aunt Phoebe’s almost as bad.”
My aunt was so obsessed with my higher education there was a teacher she’d been bugging me to have coffee with sometime. How was that supposed to go? Flunk anything lately, Miss Jinx? My high school academic record had more holes than my memory. Luckily, I’d managed to dodge my aunt on the subject so far.
“Just not at Battenborne.”
“Yeah, no,” I admitted. “My uncle’s campaigning for Montemar Community College like it’s the educational jewel of the West Coast. It’s not that I hate school. What I hate is how they keep trying to fix me—like I’m broken.”
“Could be worse,” Kerri muttered, picking at her nails. For a change, they were short and devoid of polish. There was a bruise on her left hand and a couple of scrapes on her right. “Battenborne isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. At least you have a choice.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. Holden was waiting for me by the curb, making a show of glancing at an imaginary watch—his idea of subtlety.
Ignoring him, I asked, “What’s up?”
Kerri chewed on her lower lip for a few beats. “It’s Mo. She’s planted the idea in my mom’s head that I don’t want to be a lawyer. As if I’m a traitor to the family because I asked a few inconvenient questions. As if I’m too stupid to realize the Shades have been magical lawyers for almost as long as magic has existed. I’m a Shade. I have an obligation. I get it. Apparently, it’s a crime to wish things were different.”
“Kerri, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” My words sounded lame. I’d been so wrapped up in my drama, I hadn’t asked her how things were going.
She swiped at her eyes that had become suspiciously moist. “How about this? Instead of coming to visit for a week next month, I’ll stay awhile. Maybe open a booth at that place across the street from your house.” Her mood brightened. “It would mean staying longer than a week—if you’re sure I wouldn’t be in the way.”
“You mean Rolling Thunder?”
Wiggling her fingers, she flashed a smile. “It’s just a crazy idea. Next month. I’ll have more to tell you by then.”
“You will tell all,” I warned, “or face the consequences. I have a badge!”
“Ooh, I’m so scared. In the meantime, witch, go find your answers!”
“Yeah, before they turn around and realize giving me a badge was a mistake.”
We both laughed to lighten the moment and then said our goodbyes.
After Kerri was safely inside her dorm, Holden and I headed for the bridge. When we came to the corner of Rowan and Spidersilk, I halted.
Holden looked around and said, “Why are we standing here?”
Devi’s house sat in the middle of the block. Through a tangle of trees lining the street, I could see the windows were still dark. After explaining to Holden where I’d left Marley, I added, “I can’t leave him there. I have to do something with him.”
“He’s not a person. He’s not sentient. You know that, right?”
“It’ll only take five minutes.”
“Fine.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Whatever you’re going to do will probably confuse them. It might be fun.”
“Them?” I looked around, seeing nothing but long shadows.
“Right”—he pointed— “there.”
Two beefy silhouettes lurked under the low spreading branches of an old oak in the block behind us. They wore black from head to toe and carried long wands. Despite their official-looking garb, they might not work for Rhiannon’s Wheel.
In parts of the Nightingale Lands that bordered other realms, it wasn’t unusual to discover creatures had found their way through the paranormal fault despite the protection measures built into the Pale. Serenity Point was no different although I didn’t know how frequently intrusions happened. It wasn’t unheard of for locals—especially young men hoping to prove their macho magical prowess—to dress the part and go on patrol.
With the talk in town about how I’d broken through the security wards in the park, it wouldn’t be a shocker if these two hoped to catch me in some illegal act and make an arrest. Tonight, I was too tired to play the game.
“You’ve got to be kidding.” I crossed my arms and turned to face them, ready to settle any misconceptions here and now.
Holden continued strolling down the sidewalk away from the lurkers, leaving me behind.
When I caught up with him again, he said, “As much fun as it would be to watch you take them on, why not try something different?”
“Translation—you’re suggesting that because there’s a badge in my pocket, it doesn’t mean I should throw my not-very-impressive weight around?”
“Something like that.”
“When did you grow up and what did you do with the Holden I used to know?”
He didn’t answer, which was just as well, because he wasn’t the one who needed an injection of maturity. There had been too many times over the past couple of years when he’d dragged my impulsive butt out of hot water. Since my new leaf was all about doing the right thing, I could see his point of view.
In my defense, it always seemed as if trouble found me instead of the other way around. Still, discretion was a concept it wouldn’t hurt to embrace. Who knew? Maybe it would become a way of life. Stranger things had happened.
“All right, have it your way, but if things go sideways, don’t say I didn’t—” My voice broke off when I realized Holden wasn’t listening. He’d gone still, muscles tight, weight forward on the balls of his feet. “What is it?”
“No one’s been inside your old house for years, right?”
“Yeah. Why?”
He pointed, the golden gleam of his wolf behind his gaze. “That window on the left—I thought I saw something.”
“Like what?”
“There was a flash. I don’t know what I saw. Maybe a curtain moved or
something.”
“Are you sure?”
“No. I could be totally wrong.”
“Um, no.”
He shrugged, and like that, his wolf was gone. “I made a mistake. It happens.”
Holden’s senses were as keen as those of any shifter. He’d been hunting with his dad since he was a toddler. He’d picked up on the wannabes following us before I’d had a clue.
I didn’t buy his denial. He didn’t respond, and we kept walking.
The sun was going down. Around the silent house where I used to live, the tall trees cast it in deep shadow. As much as part of me longed to go back in time to when my parents had been alive, and all was well with the world, that wasn’t possible.
Why I brought it up now, I had no idea. I hadn’t thought about her in years. Wishful thinking Holden might have seen her? “I had a cat once. Her name was Ophelia. I wanted to take her with me that day. My parents wouldn’t let me.”
“You left her behind? Has she been in the house all this time?” Holden’s dark brows pushed together.
“Yes, I mean … no.”
“Either she was in the house or not. It can’t be both,” he insisted. “Which was it?”
“Like Schrodinger’s Cat?”
He blinked. “When did you hear about Schrodinger’s Cat?”
“For your information, I didn’t sleep through every class in high school. Well, not when the physics teacher talked about Schrodinger. I perked up when he talked about the cat in a box that could be alive and not alive at the same time until someone looked inside. Schrodinger reminded me of Ophelia. I’d forgotten.” It wasn’t unreasonable that I’d lost memories because of trauma. I’d been told it was a protective adaptation. That didn’t mean I felt good about it.
“Schrodinger’s Cat was a physicist’s thought experiment,” Holden said. “What you’re talking about is different.”
“How so?”
“If there was a cat in the house when your parents left that day, either she survived inside, or she died. She can’t be both at the same time.”
“Ophelia was definitely alive when we left home,” I said. “My mom tried to shoo her outside, but Phee had a mind of her own. Whether she went out like my mom wanted or if she stayed inside, I don’t know.”
“You said Devi kept tabs on the house over the years. Did she ever find a dead little cat body?”
“Sometimes you are such a wolf.”
He snickered. “I’ll be sure and make a note in my diary. What about the cat?”
By now we’d reached where I’d left Marley. I gathered the remains from the ground. “Devi respected the seals my mom placed. She never went inside. Since then, the house received regular security scans. They showed nothing living inside.”
“That’s good,” he said in a considering tone. “It means the cat went outside. No paradox.”
“That’s not why Ophelia reminded me of Schrodinger.” I focused on the house. “It’s because she was a cat and not a cat at the same time.”
Holden’s gaze turned appraising. “I can almost wrap my mind around the dead/not-dead thing. What do you mean she wasn’t a cat?”
“She looked like a cat and acted like a cat. I fed her cat food. She was as annoying as any cat—maybe more so than average—but she wasn’t a cat. It’s what my mom used to say when Phee made her mad, which was all the time.”
“Maybe that’s why your mom wanted to lock her out,” Holden offered.
“We didn’t know we weren’t coming back.”
As soon as he realized what he’d said, Holden groaned and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Evie … I’m sorry.”
Standing with the remains of my latest magical disaster in my arms, I didn’t want to talk about Ophelia any longer even to make Holden feel better. Why had I brought it up in the first place? Because Holden might have seen something?
No matter what my parents said, I should have taken Phee with me on that trip. We would have had each other all these years, and I wouldn’t have been alone. I wouldn’t have worried about her. I wanted to believe the scans of the house were accurate, and Phee had escaped to live a full life.
Movement in the dark along the street caught my attention. Our shadows were still following, only now they weren’t trying to hide, but heading for us with long, determined strides.
“What if we take Marley across the street?” I asked.
“To your old house?”
“Yeah. We’ve got incoming Tweedledee and Tweedledum. I’ll bet they’re hoping we climb over Devi’s fence. If they can catch us trespassing the garden of the director of the MBI that’s all the evidence they’ll need to make a citizen’s arrest.”
“Even if your old house is warded,” Holden said, “we should be able to get over the fence.”
“And if we do, who will care? It’s abandoned.”
Holden grinned. “Let’s do it.”
We crossed the street at an easy stroll as if we did this every evening. Holden hung back a few yards. When I reached the side of the house, I turned to motion him to join me and froze.
The vigilantes confronted him.
One guy held his wand in one hand, tapping it against his palm like a police baton. The other loomed, his height and bulk promising pain. Leaning against the fence, I watched, ready to step in with my sturdy rowan wand if Holden needed help, although it wasn’t likely. Using my wand to bleed aggression out of the situation would make Holden mad—as if I was assuming, he couldn’t handle himself.
Holden was lean and lanky and had a vibe about him that made strangers assume he was a vegan, played bass in an alternative band, and railed against social injustice in his spare time. In reality, he was pure carnivore and couldn’t carry a tune even under a full moon. The only injustices that moved him to action were insults to his wallet.
Disclosure had done a number on bias and assumptions. It was more difficult these days to figure out where anyone stood going by simple tags or appearances—not that there had ever been anything wise about jumping to conclusions. These days, though, when your first question was whether a stranger might or might not be human, other factors seemed trivial in comparison. It had gone a long way toward reducing conflicts around the world. Other conflicts had taken their place—like this one. It was always something.
The hulk on the left said, “You need to come with us.” The one on the right cracked his knuckles.
Holden leaped into the air, planting his foot on the man’s chest. His opponent went down like a sack of rocks, his wand flying out of his grasp. He lay there gasping for air.
Holden spun, blocking a punch from the second assailant and landing one of his own. The other man dropped to his knees, swaying from side to side. Holden glided away, waiting while the man struggled to rise. When he was almost on his feet, Holden planted him with two swift punches and one good kick.
After gathering their wands, Holden lifted his knee and broke them in half and then cracked the pieces again. It had been a bad day for wands.
He dropped the fragments on his assailants. “Get out of here before I report you to the Wheel.”
I watched them struggle to their feet, and said to Holden, “Nice job. You should probably report them to the Wheel, anyway.”
The first man who’d gone down said, “That won’t be necessary. Really.” He stretched out a hand to help his companion who seemed to have trouble with his balance. “Whatever you’re about to do here, we didn’t see anything. We won’t tell anyone, honest.”
“I don’t know,” Holden said, stroking his chin.
“You don’t have to worry about us,” the second man said. “Forget we were here.”
“Why were you following us?” I asked.
They exchanged a look. The second man said, “There are rumors going around about a breakout from one of the dungeons.”
I frowned. “What’s that got to do with me?”
“They say you broke through the security wards on the green,” the f
irst man said as he stooped to gather the remains of his wand. “Hearing that the same day as talk of a breakout…” He stood and shrugged. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”
“So now I’m part of some giant plot?” I made a sound of disgust.
“Laramie Crowe wouldn’t lie.”
“What did he say?” Holden growled, and the men flinched.
Reluctantly, one of them said, “Sheriff talked about how that girl cracked the wards in the park and around city hall. Anyone who could do that would make short work of dungeon seals. Get in anywhere she wanted slick as spit.”
“So, two plus two equals jail break,” I said faintly. “Good to know.”
“Get lost,” Holden snarled.
When they were gone, Holden opened his mouth. Before he could speak, I said, “Don’t.”
“But, Evie, you can’t let them get to you.”
“I know. I’ve got this.” From his expression, he didn’t believe me. That was the thing about a new leaf—it was new—and hard for others to see sometimes. “I’m good.”
I gestured at the fence. “Are we going to do this or what?”
“Witches first.”
In my old backyard, the flower beds were overgrown and filled with weeds, but everything else was still the same, including the giant chestnut. It took a few minutes of wading through tall weeds and overgrowth to find the composting bin. Marley’s remains went inside, including the rags and sponges I’d used to clean up the stray magic.
Over Holden’s objections (and merciless sarcasm), I said a few words for Marley. He might only have been a collection of sticks and plastic and mud, but he’d been mine. He’d fought to have a voice, and that mattered.
When I finished, Holden said, “Unless you want to wait for someone to deliver a monument with his name on it, we should get a move on. It’s after nine.”
I followed him out of the yard.
Just as I swung a leg over the fence, something flashed in my peripheral vision. Pausing, I whispered, “Phee? Is that you?”
The shadows had no answer.
Chapter 11
