by A M Boone
“I won’t let that happen,” he said softly. “One. Vincent would eat me, and I’m so sure how well I can come back from being eaten. Two. You’re innocent. Three. Cassandra and Nathan would never forgive me. It’s going to be okay. I’m going to come back tomorrow. Okay?”
“Okay.”
He reached through the bars and took my hand gently. “Winston Promise?”
“Winston Promise.”
And he vanished.
I took a deep breath, and laid down on the bench in my cell. All I could do now would be to pass the time and try to not go crazy.
* * *
The next morning, Anthony’s parents came to visit me.
I glared at them. “What the hell? Why did you get me arrested? There’s no proof I had anything to do with Tony’s disappearance.”
“Then why did some man answer your phone and say he did?” his mother asked.
“It… It was a joke!” I choked out. “You kept bothering me, so he answered it…” I trailed off. That was pathetic.
But for the first time… they seemed a bit off. Some menacing gleam was in their eyes I’d never seen before. Something about the way they moved, the way they carried themselves… it was like they didn’t care about anything more than watching me suffer.
“Are you okay?” I asked. Vincent and Santi said supernaturals could hide in plain sight… What if they were supernatural?
No response. I swallowed.
Santi said when you were around another supernatural, you’d get a little niggling feeling, like when you were afraid you’d left the oven on. But I’d never felt it. Maybe it was because of my diluted blood. I didn’t know, and frankly, I didn’t want to.
“Well,” Mrs. Harrison said, “we’re fine. Right, dear?”
“Right.”
Something wasn’t right here. Their voices were flat, nearly robotic, and the gleam in their eyes faded to dullness. Was Vincent trying to remotely control them? Or was it something more sinister?
“Are you sure?”
She took a step towards the cell doors, and I backed up a bit. Kara broke the security cameras last night, so now no one would ever know if they killed me. I’d just be another statistic. Another hashtag.
“We’re sure,” they said in unison.
Oh, hell no. Something was seriously wrong. Were they possessed? There was no way in hell they’d be so synchronized. They barely tolerated each other when Tony wasn’t involved.
But what I could I do? Vincent was “laying low,” whatever that meant, and Dominic was nowhere to be found. Was this really how I died? By my shitty dead husband’s possibly possessed parents? Pathetic. This was nothing but pathetic.
I glanced around. There had to be something I could use for a spell circle. Even if I screwed up, and it blew up, I could still do something.
Wait. Blood magic. If I did blood magic, I could augment my weak as hell powers and stay alive long enough to fend them off.
I scratched the inside of my left wrist until I drew blood, wincing in pain, then drew a shielding circle on my palm. I tapped it, focusing every last bit of my magic.
A thin, wavering shield enveloped my entire body. I took a deep breath. Okay. I had a shield. It didn’t blow up.
Anthony’s father put his hand to the cell lock, and it opened with a quiet click. Didn’t know he could do that before. But as long as I had the shield, I’d be okay, right? Right?
His mother yanked open the door, and I pressed myself to the back wall.
“Stay away from me!” I cried.
She swung at me, but the shield held, and she bounced away. I didn’t even feel it. Thank god. But how long would it last? Until they got tired? Until I ran out of magic? Granted, Tony’s parents were in their mid-sixties, so I could take them in a fight if there wasn’t any magical BS going on, but with whatever possessed them…
They both kept trying to smack my shield down, like they were mindless beasts, but it held.
Should I cry for help? Should I fight back? Should I—
She punched my shield, and nearly broke it. I screamed. No! I wasn’t going to die here—not like this—
I shoved at them, then tapped the circle again, my heart thudding away in my chest. I had to make it more powerful, do something, or I was going to die. Small tendrils of magic crawled up my arms, and I forced another breath. If I exploded here, I could die. I would die. I had to keep my emotions under control.
But was this seriously how I died? By being beaten to death by Baby Boomers? I swung at them, but it was like punching a brick wall.
They uppercutted me in unison, and I squeezed my eyes shut, but nothing. Two quiet thumps.
“Ana!” Someone cried, and I opened my eyes.
Daddy, Esme, and Santi. Oh, thank god.
Two identical sticky notes were stuck to Tony’s parents’ faces. They writhed on the floor, moaning.
“Oh, Ana,” Esme breathed. “Thank god you’re all right.”
“I’m fine.” I wrapped my arms around her. My heart finally slowed. I never thought I’d be so happy to see my big sis. “What was wrong with Anthony’s parents?”
“Wait for it,” Daddy said, kneeling down to Mr. Harrison. Esme matched him at Mrs. Harrison.
She nodded, and they both tapped the spell circles. Anthony’s parents let out identical screams, then blue and red smoke seeped from their bodies. Definitely possessed. Being right sucked.
“Who did this?”
“This was mage magic. Forbidden mage magic,” Esme said. “Binding a spirit of despair and a spirit of wrath to a human’s body? That’s asking for the mage king to throw you in an asylum.”
Mages… Could it have been Harriet? Granted, the last time I saw her, she was barely alive, let alone powerful enough to bind spirits, but…
This created more questions than it answered, but I wasn’t going to complain. I was alive, and that was all that mattered.
“How did you know to save me?” I asked.
“Santiago here,” Daddy said, “heard you screaming all the way from Rose Creek. He grabbed us and took us here, and, well…”
He blushed. “It was nothing. Truth be told, it was Mr. Aldana who told me.”
Anthony’s parents slowly stirred and rubbed their eyes.
“Where are we…?” Mrs. Harrison said. “I don’t remember how I got here…”
“It’s not important,” Santi said. “I’ll get you back to your hotel.”
He grabbed their hands and the three of them teleported away. Santi popped back up, alone, a few minutes later. He was that powerful? Once he went through his Blossoming…
“I’ve been in contact with Gloria,” Daddy said. “We can get you to Lagos through the witch underground, and they’ll never be able to find you.”
Some emotion flickered over Santi’s face. Sorrow? Possibly anger at the mere thought of losing me.
“But that would mean…”
“Leaving everyone behind,” Santi said, his voice hollow. He didn’t have his glamour on today, and his wavy mop of pink hair fell over his eyes. “You could never get in contact with us again because they’d trace it.”
Did I take the out?
But that meant that Vincent, Santi and Feli… They’d…
I swallowed. “I can’t. Vincent needs me here. You need me here.”
Daddy huffed. “He won’t be able to… use you, if you’re on Death Row. Make your choice. It’s either now or never.”
All right, fair. He had a point there.
Someone bounded down the stairs. Kara.
“By the goddess’s left—what happened here? She glanced around, then narrowed her eyes. “Oh. I see. Trying to smuggle out the would-be jailbird. Not happening.”
“A-all right,” Esme said. “This isn’t the end. We’re gonna get you out, I promise. Daddy and Mr. Aldana have been talking, and he’s gonna post your bail.”
Bail. If you’d told me two months ago that a demonic billionaire would be paying my b
ail after he murdered my abusive husband, I would have laughed at you.
Santi squeezed my hand, then teleported away again, while Daddy and Esme slipped away, leaving just me and Kara behind.
She relocked the cell door, and said, “Don’t try any more funny business.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
The next few days went by normally, with me getting three meals a day, Vincent occasionally giving me updates on life outside my cell, Dominic giving me legal counsel, but otherwise just drowning in boredom. Even Kara giving me cryptic threats, instead of being terrifying, was at least a blip of excitement outside of hours of monotony.
On the fifth day, Dominic showed up again. “Hey, Ana. It’s time for your hearing! We’re going to get to the bottom of this, okay? We all know you didn’t do it, so plead not guilty.”
I nodded.
He was holding a bundle of clothing in his hands. “Monica’s bro gave me this for you to wear. When you refer to me, call me Dee Davis. That’s the name I’m going by now. Got it?”
“Got it.”
Kara came back. She had bags under her eyes, and was shivering. Maybe Harriet ripped her a new one for letting me live this long. She took the bundle of clothing from Dominic, unlocked the door and gave it to me.
He turned around as I got changed, Kara handcuffed me again, and let me out, and I was taken in another police car to the Alameda County courthouse in Oakland. God, this was still so embarrassing. My face was probably going to be all over the news tonight, which meant no master’s degree, no jobs… No one wanted to hire a felon.
But strangely, it was mostly deserted. Just a few people doing jury duty, and some workers. Huh. Maybe Vincent paid some people off.
They led me into a courtroom, and Dominic gently grabbed my hand and led me over to the defendant’s side.
Anthony’s parents were already there and giving me a death glare. I ignored them. They were accompanied by the prosecutor, a medium skinned woman with power hair and a scowl that’d turn you to stone.
The judge was a tall, pale skinned man, with dark, nearly black, brown hair, and matching eyes. “Miss Eliana Cecilia Delacroix, you have been charged with the first degree murder of Anthony Paxton Harrison.”
I nodded, even though my heart was racing. How did this even happen? First degree murder? How many dicks did Anthony’s parents suck to get them to arrest me with negative evidence—
Oh. Right. Rich white Baby Boomers versus poor Black millennial. I never stood a chance.
“Do you have an attorney?” he asked, glancing over the paperwork.
“Yes,” I said. “Dee Davis.” I motioned towards him.
“How do you plead?”
“Not guilty.”
Anthony’s mom burst into tears. Ugh. I didn’t need her guilt tripping me right now.
He nodded.
A few people filtered in from the back. Momma, Daddy, Esme, Elliot, and Santi… Vincent in female form, and wearing dark sunglasses, Felicia…
Wow. When Vincent was in female form, he was hotter than he had any right to be. But that was the cubi sexiness for you. Heat rose to my cheeks.
Wait, wait, wait! Not the time! I could be thrown under the jail. Black women were thrown in prison to rot, or worse, for less. I forced a few deep breaths.
The judge started talking about bail, and Vincent connected with me.
No matter how much your bail is, I’ll be able to pay it, he said.
The judge set my bail at a… “reasonable” amount. Well, reasonable for Vincent. I’d be in debt for twenty years or more if I had to pay that outright.
Vincent fiddled with a smart watch, then said, The money’s in your account. Don’t worry.
When did he get access to my accounts?
Billionaire, right… He could probably get access to anyone’s accounts if he tried hard enough.
But the more he told me not to worry, the more I worried, to be honest.
Then he set the trial date. Two weeks from today. But at least for now, I’d be free.
After the court was dismissed, Dominic lingered behind.
“I’ve got a lot of research to do, so go on without me. This is my first huge case. I was usually just helping guys caught with a bit of crack on them down in San Diego. But I’m not going to let you go to jail.”
“Right. Thanks.”
The two weeks went by too quickly. I spent most of it at home, only occasionally being visited by Santi, Vincent or Feli. Dominic came by every so often as well, mainly asking questions about Anthony and I’s relationship, the abuse, everything.
And while it hurt—dear lord, it hurt—to dredge up all those horrible, horrible memories, telling him this might have been the only thing between me and life in prison or worse.
The morning of my trial, Momma drove me back out to the courthouse. I wore the same suit I wore during my arraignment.
The jury was chosen, and everything went by in a whirlwind. Within a couple of hours, witnesses were being brought to the stand, and—
Someone yelled from the back of the courtroom, and everyone turned back to look.
Oh, no. You had got to be kidding me. That fucking hooded figure? Supernatural bullshit? Now? Why? Was it finally coming to put me out of my misery?
Vincent, Felicia, Santi, Dominic, and all the witchy members of my family froze. Maybe they sensed something I didn’t. I swallowed as the hooded figure slipped past the security guards with catlike reflexes and made its way to the front of the courtroom.
“Who are you?” the prosecutor blurted out.
“I had to come here when I heard what was going on,” the hooded figure said. “I couldn’t let this happen.”
What? No… That voice. It couldn’t be. There was no way. Vincent killed him two months ago…
“Hi, Ana,” they said, and pulled down their hood.
Chapter Fourteen
Anthony? What the hell? How was he… how did he…
Even though he was different, he still seemed the same. Milky white skin, that same lithe build—even though he’d put on a little muscle… One of his eyes was whited out and seemed to move around on its own, and a thick, jagged scar marred his face. But his undamaged eye was just as I remembered it, a bright blue. His hair had grown out, just grazing his shoulders, and he beamed at me.
He rushed towards me and wrapped his arms around my waist.
I buried my face into his robe and sobbed. “How…”
“Shh. Not now, babe,” he kissed my tears away.
Was this a dream? Was this a nightmare?
He pulled away from me, still smiling, even though his normal eye was glistening with tears. “God, I missed everyone so much…” He took a deep breath and kept talking. “My name is Anthony Paxton Harrison, and I’m alive.”
“Tony?” his parents said in unison, reaching out for him.
“Explain!” I choked out. “Two years! Two years of you beating me, cheating on me, pushing me to the limit, and—”
“It’s a long story, but I’m going to need you to trust me.”
Could I? Was I hallucinating? Maybe he was just a mirage, something conjured up by my broken mind to make me feel better about the fact I was probably going to prison forever.
The courtroom was silent.
“If you don’t believe me,” he said. “You can have a DNA test done. But I am Anthony Harrison.”
“If you’re really him,” his mother said. “What happened to your sister?”
“Died when I was twelve,” he said flatly. “She was seventeen, got drunk with some friends and drowned in Lake Merritt.”
“Oh…” his father said softly. “I think it’s actually him…”
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “It took forever to get here…”
Where did I go from here? Once they figured out that Anthony was who he said he was, the charges would be tossed out, and I’d be free to go back to the way things were—
Who the hell was I
kidding? I’d been changed forever.
The judge finally regained his bearings, and shouted, “Order in the court!”
The bailiff grabbed Tony and dragged him out, but he grabbed the significantly bigger man by the shoulders and flipped him over.
“I don’t think so.”
The fuck? The Tony I knew would get knocked over by a stiff breeze and screamed if you gave him a light tap. How did he get so much stronger?
The judge sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “This is an… unexpected development. Court adjourned. We’ll reconvene tomorrow.”
Dominic gave me a look. “I… wasn’t expecting that. But this makes everything easier. He’s alive.”
“R-right,” I said quietly. I stumbled a bit and Dominic caught me.
“Are you okay?”
“Just… in shock. I didn’t think he’d actually be alive.”
Anthony’s parents mobbed him and asked him tons of questions about the past two years.
Vincent and Felicia came up to me.
Vincent put his hands on his hips and sighed. “Will you accompany me back to my apartment? We need to discuss a few things.”
“Sure.”
He was alive. The more I said it, the less I believed it.
Tony slipped back towards me and intertwined his fingers with mine. Something about it felt alien, yet comforting… “Go with him. We can discuss this later, okay?”
“All right,” I said softly. He kissed me on the cheek and went back to his parents.
During all the ruckus, Vincent, Felicia and I snuck out and went to his apartment. Something about it felt like home.
With a shimmer, Vincent turned back into his male form. He took a seat at his dining room table and motioned for me to join him. “So. Miss Delacroix, we need to discuss your contract. I said I’d kill your abusive husband, and you’d work for me for the next ten years.”
I sat across from him. “Right.”
“However, since your husband is no longer dead, or abusive, that means our contract is null and void. Come here.”
My voice was tiny. “What?”
“I’m going to break the contract. I didn’t hold up my end of the bargain. By supernatural law, I’d be in deep shit if anyone found out.”
