“You’re the Hero that we want to see reach drinking age.” Red shifted to rest against the end of the bed. Her heart went out to the kid because she knew where this road led. Hannah had some closure when she had thought that the supes who had killed her family were all dead. Gloria Lopes had ripped it from her.
“You want vengeance. I’ve seen the look in more hunters’ eyes than I can tell you. It’ll fuel you, keep you up when the world smacks you down, but it hollows you out, Hannah. Vengeance won’t fill the hole they made when they killed your father. It’ll only make it deeper.” Ruffling through her hair, Red shrugged. “I’m not going to tell you that your dad wouldn’t want this because I didn’t know the guy. Maybe he would dig it. At the end of the day, you can choose your vendetta over whatever I think. But we both know you can come up with a better idea.”
Hannah gasped. “You haven’t even heard my plan.” She pulled her knees up to her chest. “Not that I’m telling you. Because I can do it myself.”
“You don’t need to tell me anything,” Red said, delicately. “Just think about it. You’ve had how long between Trudy dropping you off and me coming back? Is there any part of your plan that seems a little iffy or that you might want more time to prepare for?”
Hannah’s lips twisted. She looked away.
“There’s more than one way to skin a werewolf, kid. Some won’t even get you killed.” Red tilted her head to meet Hannah’s eyes. “Promise me you won’t try to run after them tonight. Give it a week. Play Nancy Drew here at the academy, annoy Ian with questions, plot some schemes—whatever. Just give it a week.”
Hannah held her gaze for a long moment then nodded. “A week. Just don’t tell Trudy about this.”
“Promise.” Red held out her hand for a shake. She didn’t know if she had really convinced the girl to stay put for the whole time, yet she knew she could sleep tonight without worrying about finding the place empty in the morning.
Hannah shook on it.
Red stood, smoothing down her blue skirt. “The floor is hard. Let’s move this to the couch and maybe pop something into the microwave. I’m starving.”
“Yeah, that protection spell gave me the munchies too. There are leftovers.”
Red tried to bring down Hannah’s defensive guard as they talked quietly over Pad Thai. Finally, the tears started to fall down Hannah’s round cheeks as she spoke of her family. The two witches ended up staying on the couch after their plates had been emptied, talking for hours. Hannah eventually fell asleep in her seat.
Eyelids drooping, Red covered the girl with a blanket, then switched off the suite light after checking her charging phone to send a sarcastic meme to Vic’s apology text. She accidentally knocked over the contents off her purse on the coffee table, but too tired to listen to her inner neat freak, she waved an irritated hand at the mess and classified it as something for tomorrow. She was asleep once she snuggled under her sheets.
Cawww!
Red cracked open her eyes, wondering if a raven had flown into the apartment. The sound rang out again. Her finally awake ears heard it for what it was—an excited teenage girl. Red sat bolt upright, rubbing her face. She called out to the living room. “Whassamatter?”
Hannah bounced into the open bedroom, holding a scrap of paper with Ezra’s number on it. It had fallen out onto the coffee table last night. “I know this number!”
Red flopped back into her pillows, satisfied that no one was dying. “It’s nothing.”
“This isn’t like exchanging Instagram profiles.” Hannah waved the number. “This has to be a date!”
Covering a squirrely smile, Red rolled over and pulled the blankets over her head. “Go away, Hannah.”
Hannah squealed again. “It’s a date!”
Chapter Twelve
Half sideshow museum, half game hall, Red didn’t know where to look first in the gloriously strange Green Valley Arcade. The air crackled with buzzers and dings, whirls and thuds, bells and whistles. Tiny LEDs flashed from every direction. Rows of games wound up and down the length of the large space, from the latest racing simulator to antique pinball. Little curio shelves propped up here and there were haphazardly filled with strange mid-century memorabilia. Vintage carnival posters hung next to retro 80s toy merchandise on the walls. Dangling from the ceiling, a stuffed astronaut suit pointed to the wall of prizes.
Ezra gave her the tour like he worked there instead of the Circe Casino. A delighted smile stretched across his angular features as he pointed out specific games like old friends. He tucked his longish brown hair behind his ear, faltering briefly. “This isn’t too nerdy for you.”
“No, it’s totally weird. I love it.” Red pointed to a Fiji mermaid glowering on a hook in a gap between games. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Petunia isn’t even the best.” Ezra waved her over to the novelties dotting the display endcaps.
Creepy American Gothic style paintings hung next to cardboard cutouts of celebrities and pinups. There were peep show boxes for a dime, penny engravers, a 70s love tester, and a puppet fortune teller in her glass case. A funhouse mirror contorted her jean clad legs and navy-blue boat knit top.
The arcade wasn’t just a cool date idea, it was also a neutral supernatural sanctuary. Most cities had at least one where underworld types could mingle. This was by far the most fun one that Red had been to.
Energy signatures of an anti-violence spell proved the seriousness of the security. That wasn’t what convinced her of the place’s safety. It was the kids with their families. Roving flocks of fox-eared kids bounced from game to game with friends. This wasn’t the usual sanctuary dive where she smuggled in a weapon. She would have had to surrender most of what was in her hunter’s kit, so she’d left the whole thing in Ezra’s car—except for an unlabeled canister of were-mace rattling around in her purse.
Sigils on the walls were a sign that the management had hired a mage in the past, but the crowd was a mix. Two alchemists she remembered from the library chatted next to the drink counter. A kitsune in a Captain America dress played skee ball with a shy looking young man with budding horns like a spring deer. Mostly, everyone looked human even though some radiated power like the unusually tall woman with brilliantly white hair who played Whack-A-Mole.
Red and Ezra moved from game to game, sharing smiles and some flirty banter, before coming to his true love. She took a break for a snack to watch the pinball wizard.
“You got it, you got it!” Red tossed the last kernel in her mouth. She hovered over the side of the vintage machine, following the green flipper as it tapped the silver ball.
Ezra tapped the side buttons. The ball zigged and ricocheted passed the flipper, ending the victory streak. He shrugged and smiled, shaking the empty cup. “You know what they say about winnin’ some.”
“Fess up, you have a pinball habit. You are not a casual.”
They strolled through the maze of games in a roundabout way to the coin machine by the far-off drink counter. Something scaly in a parka tossed a toy basketball into a Pop-A-Shot hoop ahead of them. It was a side of the supernatural that she hadn’t seen before—demon denizens having good old-fashioned family-friendly fun. The place felt oddly wholesome. Red hadn’t felt this relaxed in a while, and after the last few days she appreciated the break.
“You found me out.” Ezra lifted his hands to the side with a wry smile. “This is why I stay in Vegas. It isn’t the bartending job in a place where I could tell people the truth about having a Bard for a mom. It’s the pinball scene.”
Red laughed. “You worked that machine like a lover.”
“It’s not a monogamous thing. I’ve played each machine, but it’s the old ones that have soul. Don’t try telling Hannah that. She doesn’t get it.”
“You’ve really leapt into being like a big brother to her.”
“She’s needs one,” Ezra said. The genuine bear brother vibes warmed his expression. “I used to resent my mom’s champions. I was th
e ordinary one in the house with kids my age chosen by whatever powers that be. Now, I just feel sorry for them. I’m not in the life but I get enough of what Hannah’s dealing with to be there for her.”
“I think its super sweet. I bet your mom appreciates it.”
“It’s been long road to get here, but it’s working out.” He raised his eyebrow at her. “You’ve been pretty diplomatic about the Vic-gate situation.”
She froze as she tossed away the popcorn bag. “I don’t need to draw a line in the sand. I’ve met Trudy. Even if every paranoid conspiracy theory that Vic could dream up was right, I doubt you could stop her when she got her mind set on something.”
“She’s a bulldozer not a ballerina.” Ezra put his arm around Red. “You’re pretty remarkable too. You managed to get the bartender to talk about himself all night.”
Grinning, she leaned into his side, touching his chest. He certainly kept himself in shape. “I figured you could use a turn.”
“What about you? All I really know about you is that you breezed in from LA, can handle a lot more psychedelics than I could, and you fight werewolves. And you know, badass witch.” His eyes shyly met hers as they approached an old-fashioned fortune teller machine. “I don’t even know what kind of movies you like so I can take a stab at inviting you to see one.”
Red smiled. “Ah, we’re having second date thoughts then. Good. I lean toward the light and breezy. I get enough horror at work.”
The puppet fortune teller creaked to animatronic life, jerking wooden fingers over the crystal ball. A light bulb inside the orb flickered. Hurdy gurdy music twinkled from the machine.
“Ooo, this is a defective one. It pops out fortunes sometimes,” Ezra said, trotting over to it.
“It’s yours,” Red offered. She didn’t need a new cryptic prediction.
Ezra bent to the fortune tray and retrieving a tiny scroll. “You already know the answer to the questions inside your head.” He made a small hmmm. “Not really a fortune per say. More like an affirmation.” He turned it over. “Oh, there’s another bit. A new voyage will fill your life with untold memories.”
“Any lucky numbers?” Red squinted at the puppet fortune teller draped in velvet and a black wig. It looked a little like Perenelle Flamel. Sweat beaded on her forehead as her stomach cramped suddenly. Her vision blurred, arcade fading to red diner booths.
The image held for only a second but she absorbed it all, from the wide windows overlooking trees and a gravel parking lot to the James Dean and Marilyn Monroe pictures on the bathroom doors and the boom box on the bar counter covered in stickers. The bell on the entrance rang. A younger version of herself walked inside. Crossing her arms over the faded shirt whose text was nearly invisible but for the word Charm, she called over her shoulder. “Mom!”
Red stiffened, her heart dropping as the vision faded. It felt real. The diner interior was the same as the one she had visited in the Dreamland. And her Mom was there.
“Are you alright?”
Startled, Red had almost forgotten about Ezra. The flash and whirl of the arcade felt too loud, too cramped. Lightheaded, she rubbed her temple. “Acid flashback? I think I need some air before we load up on more quarters.”
They walked out of the Green Valley Arcade and into the dry Nevada night, away from the front entrance. Carnival bright inside, the outside looked like every other warehouse in the dingy complex. Red stopped with a huff.
The sight of the Millennium Falcon usually cheered her up. Not when it was unexpectedly at her date night. Parked on the other side of the lot, the front doors opened. Vic climbed out of the driver’s side.
Exiting the passenger side, Lashawn read off his phone without looking up. “I’ve already curated a list of the most unique machines in their collection we have to check out.”
Ezra glanced at her, sheepish and shifting on his feet. “I think I might have accidentally caused this. I did talk this place up this morning. It’s a supernatural sanctuary with pinball. Definitely worth a visit. Maybe I should have made it clearer that it was a date.”
Red crossed her arms. “No, it’s not your fault. Vic is just that oblivious. He has uncanny timing for interrupting.”
The side door opened to the van and Hannah popped out, wearing a red wig.
“He didn’t.” Disbelief shading his whisper, Ezra’s features tightened. His usually relaxed stance stiffened. Shaking his head, he strode toward the group. He pointed to Hannah as he got closer. “Get back in that van before someone sees you.”
Vic whistled for attention. “Whoa, hoss.”
Red scanned the parking lot, pumping her legs to keep up with Ezra’s long strides, wishing she hadn’t left her hunters kit in his car. She stopped by the van’s back doors. “Ezra’s right. What are you thinking, Vic? You know what’s after her.”
Lashawn gawked at Hannah. “This is the girl? I thought your name was Ellie?”
“Sometimes it is.” Hannah shrugged, the picture of jaded teenage cool.
Vic held up his hands like he was trying to reason with a group of raptors. “She hitched a ride in the van, and I didn’t notice until I was out of the garage.”
Face screwed up like he needed an antacid, Lashawn put his hands on his hips. “You picked me up like two minutes after that.”
“She made a very persuasive case quickly on why she should come along. Its starts with being an orphan, new in town, and gets worse.” Vic sighed. “She first asked if I could take her to kill the wolves. I thought an arcade would be more age-appropriate.”
“Hannah, you promised,” Red snapped. Last night, she thought they’d really connected, that she had gotten through to the girl about her revenge trip fantasies.
“I had a better idea,” Hannah mumbled, chin tucked to her chest. “This was to get intel.”
Shoulders squared, Ezra stepped toward Vic. “I’m taking her home, now. We can’t risk being this exposed after yesterday. The pack could have followed you.”
“Yes, go. I’ll get a ride with Vic,” Red said, reining in her disappointment. It was futile to think they could just put a pin in their evening and then go on enjoying themselves. The sanctuary was a neutral one, but if word got out that the last Proctor witch was here… The protection ended at the front door. The Gendarme hadn’t found any of the wolves yet. Last night had only injured the murderous pack’s pride. They were still out there.
Ezra released a deep breath, scanning the perimeter. “We might need your hunter’s kit in case there’s trouble on the road.”
“Take it,” Red said. “It was a good first date. Text you tomorrow.”
Smiling tightly, Ezra put his hand on Hannah’s shoulder and turned to walk to his car.
“It was a date then! I’m so sorry! Was it going well?” Hannah asked as Ezra glared at her and marched her to his car.
“Typical, Vic. Just typical.” Lashawn jabbed his glasses back up his nose, arms rigid. Chin jutting, he shook his head at Vic. “We can never just go play some pinball. I should have known.”
“Hey, hey,” Vic started.
Lashawn talked over him, stabbing his finger at his brother. “After seeing you in Arizona, I thought months in a wheelchair had knocked some sense in you. Made you grow up.”
“I’m the big brother here.”
“We’re eleven months apart!” Lashawn crowed. “Damn it, Vic. I know what this was—a hunt disguised as family fun.”
Red shifted, uncomfortable. She felt defensive over Vic even when annoyed with him. The stupid lug had his heart in the right place. Even if his head was mixed up.
“She was going to hang out at a sanctuary with two hunters and the best bartender in town. Safe and sound,” Vic said. “I didn’t know we were date crashing.”
“I better not be the hunter included in that number, as I didn’t consent to danger.” Lashawn gestured to Red like a lawyer presenting evidence. “This is Utah all over again. You were using that girl to get a new trace on those wolves.”
“I was going to teach her something. This sanctuary is the perfect place to learn how to detect demonic types in a crowd. The dogs are finding every hole in the alchemist’s defenses. She can’t hide forever in a casino. That’s common sense.”
Car headlamps illuminated them in the paved lane between the parking spaces.
Red waved awkwardly at Ezra behind the wheel, wondering what spell helped someone melt into the ground and disappear. She couldn’t imagine he’d want to go to the movies now. “Can we move out of the way?”
Lashawn ignored her to address Vic. “That’s not reason, it’s a rationalization. You’re not a Bard anymore, let alone Hannah’s.”
“These are killer wolves. You know what they can do.”
“Whatever you can do to get the monsters. Just like dad. This insanity is why I left!” He walked over to the idling car, leaning into the window. “Um Ezra, I’m sorry to ask, but are you going back to the Circe?” At Ezra’s quick “no worries,” he got into the backseat. The car took off as soon as the door closed.
Frown drooping like a hound, Vic watched the departing car. “This was supposed to be a teachable moment in the field.”
“I believe you,” Red said delicately, ushering him into the van. She believed him but knew that there was something to what Lashawn had said. “I think we’ve caused enough of a scene here.”
Once in the driver’s seat, Vic rested his head against the headrest and closed his eyes for a moment. “He’s not going to talk to me for another year. Maybe two.”
She tried not to lie to him, so she stayed silent.
The Millennium Falcon rumbled to life. The murmur of the radio and the open window filled the car. As they cruised down dark, wide boulevards, an overripe moon followed. The spotlight of the Luxor Casino pierced the clear sky like a guiding beacon. Trekking through the neon canyon of the Vegas Strip, the van passed limos, taxis, and billboard trucks advertising escorts. The police were out in force on foot and on bikes among the faceless horde of revelers. Yells and a cracking bottle exploded in a fight between two young men at a giant crosswalk. The full moon was two days ago, but people were still acting loony.
Witch On The Run: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Red Witch Chronicles 4) Page 20
