“There was nothing distinguishing about her. It could have been any pretty Arabian woman,” MaLeila replied.
Marcel hummed and then said, “Then I suppose I’ll have to return to the council to for further deliberation on the matter.”
Marcel stood and started to walk towards the door. MaLeila stood to see him out, with Devdan following behind her. Marcel opened the door and started to step out of it but then turned around to face MaLeila again.
“But I’ll tell you what. How about we exchange numbers…. I’m sorry. I didn’t get your name.”
“The Council didn’t tell you?” MaLeila asked dryly.
“I don’t think the way they refer to you would be appropriate,” Marcel said.
“You would be the first,” MaLeila said dryly remembering too many occasions where the council had referred to her with insulting names and racial slurs in reference to her. Her personal favorite was “The Nigger Witch” which she had been referred to in several different European languages, including Latin, Italian, and Spanish. It was insulting enough to call her a witch instead of the powerful sorceress she was or a nigger alone anyway, but put together was doubly insulting. Not that the council ever cared about insulting her.
“That’s quite a shame.”
“MaLeila,” MaLeila replied as she took her phone out her back pocket.
“Now that’s much more fitting,” Marcel said with smile that flustered MaLeila some. Then he reached out and took her phone from her while saying, “I’ll do it.”
Marcel put MaLeila’s number in his phone and the shortly after he handed it back to her, he reached into his jacket pocket to take out his vibrating phone.
“And now I have yours,” Marcel said. “I’ll call you if there are any updates, but feel free to call me anytime if you need anything at all.”
“Thank you,” MaLeila said as Marcel finally walked out the door.
Once she closed it behind her, MaLeila shrugged and said, “That was actually much more pleasant than I thought it would be.”
Bastet finally relaxed and said, “I guess so. Seemed pretty pointless, but it’s procedure for them, especially when it involves you.”
“I hope they send him back for everything else they’re always pestering me about,” MaLeila muttered.
“I hope not,” Devdan said.
MaLeila looked up at Devdan and tilted her head questioningly.
“Why?”
Devdan stared at MaLeila for a while, as though contemplating whether or not he was going to answer her. Then he said, “He was coming on to you pretty hard.”
MaLeila rolled her eyes, “He was not.”
“He asked you for your number.”
“It makes sense. Saves him the trouble of coming over here to get updates,” MaLeila said trying not to laugh.
“Actually,” Nina said from where she was still on the couch, typing away on her phone, “I have to agree with Devdan on this one. Marcel totally had the hots for you. Didn’t you see the way he kept giving you once overs?”
MaLeila huffed. “Oh please.”
“If he calls you, don’t answer the phone,” Devdan said.
MaLeila scoffed. “You’re unbelievable. He wasn’t flirting with me. And even if he was, it’s my choice whether I talk to him or not. Not like I’m dating anyone.”
Devdan didn’t say anything else, he simply gave MaLeila one final glare and made his way to his room. Once he closed the door, MaLeila rolled her eyes and went to grab her book bag from where she left it on the couch. She plopped on the floor in front of the coffee table and began to take out her homework.
It was as she was searching for a pencil that Nina said, “I still say you two would feel much better if you got over yourselves and fucked already.”
3
Contrary to the belief of the council, MaLeila wasn’t a lone sorceress on an island by herself when it came to societal connections in the magic world. But she guessed they didn’t consider being friends with the sole male heir to the Long Clan, the most powerful magic family in England and possibly all of Europe, a valid connection or alliance. The Long Clan were descendants of Claude on his mother’s side with close ties to English monarchy. MaLeila met the current heir when she was thirteen, after his family sent him to find the girl who claimed to be Claude Thorne’s heir.
While the then fourteen-year-old Irvin Long hadn’t been rude or impolite to her, he did have a haughty air about him, unable to believe that a nobody sorceress who didn’t even know she could use magic for most of her life would be Claude’s heir over a direct descendant, as he always liked to remind her. He eventually came around, even going as far as inviting her, her mother, Nina, and Bastet to Europe. Still, knowing and being friends with a future magic clan leader didn’t count unless it was through an official business contract, usually marriage. And though MaLeila and Irvin had tried dating for a while, they ultimately decided to stay friends. Regardless of what the council thought though, her friendship with him came in handy, particularly when she needed to backdoor the council and make sure they weren’t trying to hide something from her that was common knowledge among families.
“You know, you can call me just to say hello instead of calling to get confirmation about something the bloody magic council told you,” Irvin said without bothering to greet her as soon as he answered the phone.
MaLeila rolled her eyes. “Don’t exaggerate, Irvin. I talked to you last week. And the word about Tsubame has spread that quick?”
“Not particularly. But my mother’s uncle is on the council.”
“Oh yeah. I try to forget that you and that old prude Absalom are that closely related,” MaLeila muttered.
“You don’t have to worry. Tsubame’s not some classified sorceress that the magic council isn’t telling you something about because they hope she’ll destroy you. She’s really not on the books.”
MaLeila leaned against the street lamp on the corner as she paused in her trek home from work.
“I think you’re worrying too much about this. She could just be some nut with delusions of grandeur.”
“True,” MaLeila muttered. “But I don’t know. I just have a feeling that she’s a lot more than what she seems. My magic didn’t even work on her.”
“Did you tell the council that?”
“So they could find Tsubame and ally with her to destroy me? I don’t think so,” MaLeila huffed.
Irvin was silent for a while in contemplation before asking, “What about Bastet’s friend? The one from Morocco.”
“Tilila? The council likes her only a little more than they like me. Not only is she blacker than me, she’s too eccentric for their liking. But maybe I can ask Bastet to call her and follow up. She talked about being from another world. Maybe Tilila can find that somewhere in that massive library of hers,” MaLeila added. Then she said, “Thanks anyway.”
“Now wait just a minute. You can’t call me and talk all about business,” Irvin said. “I was thinking this summer about coming to the states, you know, before you go off to college and forget we were ever friends.”
“I don’t forget about my friends Irvin, especially because I don’t have that many. If you wanted to come visit, all you had to do was say so.”
“I was coming whether you gave me permission or not, but thanks for making it so much easier on me,” Irvin said. “I’ll talk to you later, MaLeila. We’re about to have company and I have to be there to greet them as future clan leader. Between you and me though, I heard they have a daughter and knowing my mother, she’s probably hoping that I like her enough to want to marry her.”
MaLeila huffed and said, “I’ll talk to you later Irvin. Try to behave.”
“Always,” Irvin said dryly and then the call closed with a short fluttering beep in MaLeila’s ear.
“So the rumors are true. You do have a thing with the last male heir to the Long Clan.”
After being attacked by wayward witches, magicians, and sorcerers, Ma
Leila’s reaction was instinctive. In half a second she had figured out where the person was standing, the nearest items and forces of nature that she could use to bind the person, and taken out her cell phone to call Bastet or Devdan for additional aid if needed. In the next half second she had the person held tightly against the street lamp she’d only been leaning on a few seconds earlier with kudzu vines, making sure the vines restrained their wrists and were wrapped around their neck, ready to snap a neck if needed. In another half a second, she realized that she had overreacted, and it was only Marcel.
“Sorry!” she exclaimed as she released him. “You just scared the shit out me is all. I wasn’t trying to attack you.”
He laughed, surprising out of amusement rather than nervous surprise, while rubbing his wrists as he said, “No problem. I shouldn’t have snuck up on you. But how did you know I wasn’t a normal person talking to you.”
“You know about the Longs and I didn’t sense you come up behind me, which means you were shielding your presence, and that’s something only people trained in magic know how to do,” MaLeila explained.
“Are you really attacked that often?”
“I used to be.”
After MaLeila was certain Marcel was fine and he had regained his bearings about himself, she asked, “What are you doing back here anyway?”
It had been days since Marcel dropped by on behalf of the council to investigate Tsubame’s appearance. The lapsed time was what prompted MaLeila to call Irvin in the first place to make sure the council hadn’t found anything. And maybe MaLeila was being paranoid, but it was oddly coincidental that after she called Irvin, Marcel made an appearance.
“The council figured that the best way to learn about Tsubame was to spend time with you. She presented herself to you first, so she’s bound to show up again.”
“So they’re actually worried about her?”
“Not really. They just don’t like that she’s somehow managed to slip from their radar and avoid being put in their records. And you know more than anyone how much the magic council hates to be outwitted,” Marcel said pointedly. Then he smiled and said, “Besides, being here is better than being in the Vatican and being their fetch boy all day. I rather spend time with a girl as beautiful and interesting as you any day.”
MaLeila pursed her lips together tightly as heat rose to her cheek.
“You mean to tell me the great and powerful heir of Claude Thorne is shy?”
“Do you want me to wrap you in kudzu vines again?”
Marcel held up his hands in surrender as he fell into step with MaLeila. Then he asked, “So where are you headed all dressed up like that? Can’t be a date if you’re with the Long heir.”
MaLeila glanced down at her outfit. She hadn’t thought the fitted off-shoulder long sleeved cotton top and denim vest with fur around the collar and hem was too fancy, which was why she hadn’t changed after she was done with her job. But maybe in combination with her makeup, black hair gelled and slicked back into a puffy ponytail, and the nice leather boots, it was enough to draw attention.
“First, me and Irvin aren’t dating. Second, I barely have a social life, let alone a dating life.”
“Then why so dressed up?”
MaLeila stopped to look at Marcel cautiously, who looked back at her undeterred. She turned away upon feeling heat rising to her cheeks again and muttered, “I model.”
“Oh yeah?”
“I’m saving up for college. It’s quick money.”
“You don’t have to defend yourself.”
“You’re a representative of the Magic Council sent to observe me and wait for Tsubame to show up. That says otherwise.”
Marcel chuckled and said, “Between you and me, the council can go fuck themselves. What you do in your personal life has nothing to do with them, especially if it has nothing to do with magic and the magical world.”
MaLeila gave the man a sideways glance. As much as she wanted to let her guard down because Marcel didn’t seem like the run of the mill Magic Council representative, she couldn’t help being wary. This wouldn’t be the first time the Magic Council sent someone to gain her trust to bring her under their control.
“But forget about all that. You’re dressed up. Shouldn’t let all that work go to waste. Let’s have dinner. My treat.”
“Are you seriously asking me out on a date?” MaLeila choked out through a laugh.
“You’re a nice girl, pretty, a powerful sorceress, and I’ve been sent to be your glorified babysitter. We may as well both get some fun out of it,” Marcel said with a shrug.
MaLeila raised her eyebrows at him.
“Innocent fun. Not that kind of fun… unless you wanted to of course…”
“And you’re not worried about what the council will have to say?”
“If anything, they’ll be pleased that someone connected to the council has been allowed in your tight inner circle to keep an eye on you. But I just said that they can go fuck themselves, so does it seem like I care at all?”
MaLeila narrowed her eyes at Marcel. On one hand, he seemed sincere enough, with the same regard for the council she had even though he worked for them. Bastet had worked for the council once too, and even she said that many of the people who worked for the council did so because they had no choice. On the other hand, Marcel might purposefully be trying to get her to ease her guard down for the council’s sake.
Finally, she turned to keep walking toward her house without saying anything.
“How about you think about it?” Marcel said from behind her. “And then you can call me with your answer, whether it’s yes or no, within two days.”
MaLeila stopped walking and tilted her head back and forth before turning back to him and saying, “Fine. As long as you stop following me.”
Marcel grinned at her.
“Fair enough. I look forward to hearing from you,” Marcel said as he turned around to walk in the opposite direction.
******
Bastet was skeptical when MaLeila ran it by her the next day after school and when the woman voiced her opinion, Nina was quick to interject.
“Forget her. There are risks to everything you do. You haven’t been on a date in ages and haven’t had a boyfriend since you and Irvin were a thing. They’re just being overprotective.”
“You don’t understand Nina,” Bastet said. “There’s two things everyone knows about the magical world but that no one in it will talk about. It’s as classist and racist as the real world. Marcel may genuinely be interested in MaLeila as a person or he might just see her as an exotic novelty and when that wears off, he’ll move on to the next novelty.”
“So the magical world is no different than the non-magical world then,” Nina replied dryly. “We hear stories every day in school about a guy or girl dating one person and then dumping them for the next girl with the bigger breasts or butt or the next guy with more muscular arms or a bigger dick. Same thing. Just the risks of dating.”
MaLeila nodded in agreement and said, “True.”
Bastet shook her head. “These are bigger risks.”
“I risk my life to defeat other magic users who want to kill me every day, I think I can handle dating a guy who may or may not be a racist bigot.”
“That’s out of necessity. But why risk trouble you don’t have to?”
“It all comes down to this,” Devdan spoke suddenly, making everyone forget if they had something else to say. He had that kind of effect on people, especially when he showed up out of nowhere and interjected into a conversation. MaLeila didn’t even know he was home. He hadn’t walked home with MaLeila and Nina after school some hours ago, so there was no telling when he had gotten back.
He was leaning on the corner of the wall that led into the hall behind him, looking as aloof as he always did. He then continued, “Does she mind being the side bitch who gets a bunch of gifts and favors and trinkets and can spend clandestine nights with her so-called lover, but will never
be out front because she’s not the right kind of woman to show off to society? Just depends on your level of self-respect and self-worth.”
MaLeila’s jaw dropped and then clenched before she snapped, “Are you implying I don’t have any self-respect or self-worth?”
Bastet let her head fall back on the couch and said, “Shit. Here we go again.”
“No. That’s not what I’m saying. But if the shoes fits,” Devdan said pushing off the wall with a shrug before making his way into the kitchen.
“That’s fucking sexist,” MaLeila snapped.
“Nothing sexist about it. I just think you’re worth more than potentially being someone’s mistress,” Devdan said as he poured a cup of the coffee Bastet had made earlier before making his way back to his room.
MaLeila blinked and stared down the hall at Devdan’s door before asking, “Did he just compliment and insult me all in the same breath?”
Neither Bastet, nor Nina answered immediately. Then Bastet said, “He has his personal reasons for why he’s so dead set against you getting into a relationship with Marcel.”
“Oh yeah?” MaLeila asked expectantly.
“They’re personal,” Bastet emphasized.
“That may be true but his personal reasons don’t give him the right to act like an ass when he could just tell me the reason. We’re not strangers,” MaLeila shot.
Bastet sighed and glanced back at Devdan’s room door. Then she looked at MaLeila and said, “If you tell Devdan I told you this, I’ll lie and say you got a new power and then he’ll freak out and leave for a few weeks if not months. So if you want the ass to stick around, keep your mouth shut—that goes for you too, Nina,” Bastet added.
Once both girls nodded, Bastet leaned in and said, “He doesn’t want you to be like his mother.”
“His mother?” MaLeila asked. She had only ever heard Bastet or Devdan mention the man’s mother a few times, but MaLeila couldn’t say whether or not it was a sore spot for the man. Devdan didn’t say much about any of his personal life, like his entire existence was a sore spot.
“She was their slave master’s mistress. Supposedly, he was really in love with her, or maybe obsessed might be the better word, but that didn’t stop him from marrying a white women in his social standing and having a whole family for show. As far as Devdan was concerned, his mother was nothing more than a bed warmer.”
The Immortal Queen Tsubame: Awakening Page 3
