“Let’s go,” Garrett called out to Finch and the others. “We’ve got prep work to do for tomorrow. Leave these snowflakes be.”
With one final smirk, Garrett and his team walked out. Finch threw me a deadly glare over the shoulder, and chills ran down my spine. I needed to keep my guard up going forward. He’d either learned his lesson, or he was going to come back for seconds. In any case, I was ready. Hopefully, others watching had also understood not to try and pick on me.
“What the hell, Harley?” Wade turned to face me. He was livid, and I took advantage of his emotions coursing through me to hold my ground and stand by my actions.
“What the hell what? I defended myself!”
“You provoked him! You’re lucky we were all here!” Wade replied. “Don’t do that again! Don’t let them get to you. They’re jerks who know every loophole in the coven regulations, and you’re new here. There’s only so much Alton will be willing to overlook before he starts handing out the penalties. This isn’t just a school, it’s a coven, and Alton’s not a headmaster here to tackle the bullies. We fend for ourselves before it gets to the point where it needs to be reported.”
“So, this doesn’t need to be reported? Really?” I asked, incredulously.
“No, because Alton’s too busy to deal with this crap, and Garrett’s too gifted and well connected to suffer any consequences over a minor brawl. The same goes for Finch, since he’s Garrett’s friend,” he said, heavily displeased.
“So, what, was I supposed to just let him hit me?”
“His arm would’ve come off if he did,” Santana said from the side.
“You’re not helping,” Wade reprimanded her, then shifted his focus back to me. “You’re part of a team now. If you take a hit, we take a hit. But we stick together. So, measure your thoughts and your actions carefully from now on. Everything you do has an impact on all of us.”
“That’s not fair,” I mumbled, feeling his anger subside.
“Tough luck, Harley. Life isn’t fair.” Wade sighed.
“Oh, gee, thanks, Wade. I had no idea. I’ve been living it up in my elite ivory tower for so long, it’s good to finally come across a bundle of wisdom such as yourself to enlighten me on how tough life can be.”
A few moments went by in absolute silence, and I caught glimpses of my surroundings. Two magicals from the cafeteria were hauling the broken table out, giving me annoyed glances. Their frustration made me feel terrible. I should’ve at least thrown Finch into a clear space, and not ruined the furniture.
Santana, Tatyana, and Astrid seemed mildly amused. Dylan was impressed, and Raffe… well, Raffe was still confusing, half of him laughing on the inside with almost childlike delight, while the other worried about the repercussions.
“Now, fill out the damn form and let’s get this out of the way,” Wade said, resuming his seat at the table.
I sat next to him and put in the last of my details, ending with a signature, while the others watched in silence. Despite what I’d just endured with Garrett and Finch, I still kind of liked this place. It was definitely better on the Rag Team. At least they treated me with respect, my banter with Wade aside. I couldn’t bring myself to trust anyone easily, but I was fascinated by the people I’d been teamed up with. They were all misfits, in one way or another.
Flaring tempers, sharp tongues, and difficult personalities seemed to be defining features in this group. In that sense, I was a perfect fit.
Chapter Fifteen
After I filled out the employment form, we spent about an hour putting together an action plan for the following day. Well, technically speaking, I listened and nodded while Wade told everyone else what they needed to do, in his signature slightly condescending tone.
Before I left the coven, Wade also had me stand in front of the emergency door in Kid City for another half hour, until I got the Aperi Portam spell right. Not that it was all that complicated. Once I pronounced it correctly, the door opened back into the coven. It took ten fails till I got it right, given how Americanized my Latin pronunciation was, after which he made me get it right another ten times in a row, between short bouts of bickering.
I’d also learned that this was one of three access points into the coven—the most inconspicuous one, for that matter, since no one thought to look in Kid City for a way in. It was an interesting risk to take, but it seemed to work.
I was quite pleased with myself, as I’d never uttered a spell before in my life. Wade, on the other hand, insisted on toning down my enthusiasm.
“It is literally the easiest spell you could perform. A parrot would be able to do it, if it were gifted with Chaos energy like a magical,” he’d said.
Oh, Wade, the nail clipper to my wings.
By the time I got home, the evening was slowly setting in, strips of dark pink and orange splashing across the sky. I was tired, but strangely at peace. There was leftover Chinese in my fridge, but, for some reason, I wasn’t hungry. My brain was so pumped with everything I’d learned about myself, the coven, and the magicals, that my appetite didn’t make it back home with me, and food was literally the last thing on my mind.
The coffee beans were still scattered on my bedroom floor. I chuckled, then took out the broom and dust pan and proceeded to clean that up, while I quietly went over the events and discoveries of the day. The Main Assembly Hall had really messed with my Empath senses, and I was finally in a state of mind that was relaxed enough to allow some proper mulling.
I started to wonder whether I already had my Esprit, but just didn’t know what it was. After tossing the beans away, I touched my little medallion of St. Christopher, hoping I’d feel something that wasn’t there before. However, nothing came through, other than the soft coolness of gold against my fingertips.
“Could it be something else I own?” I said thoughtfully, glancing around the living room.
What were the objects that I was most attached to? What items made me feel intensely about something, anything, or everything at once? What was I emotionally invested in?
I looked out the window, my gaze settling on my Daisy, parked outside by the main entrance. She was my most beloved belonging, but I doubted she’d make a good Esprit. She was way too big, and I couldn’t see myself wielding her with the dexterity that Wade displayed, for example, with his ten rings.
Then, there was the note from my father. I pulled it out of my wallet, running my fingers over its yellowed paper. It was losing its battle with time already. In another ten or twenty years, it would start to disintegrate. My connection with the Esprit is eternal. This was just a piece of paper, with loving and apologetic words from my dad.
Besides, it didn’t feel… different.
It still offered me comfort, along with the notion that I wasn’t really alone in this world, but it didn’t feel like an Esprit—at least not based on how I’d heard others describe its link to the magical. Both Tobe and Alton had said that I would instantly feel my connection to the Esprit. Santana had taken it a step further, describing the sensation like something akin to liquid happiness.
I moved around the house, touching random objects—from keys to rings and bracelets and even the cutlery I’d bought the other week—but nothing came through. It dawned on me then that I didn’t really know what real happiness felt like.
Letting a sigh roll out of my chest, I sat on the floor with my legs crossed. I stared at my father’s note for a while, until tears burned their way up and clouded my vision. I’d never experienced happiness, not in the way Santana and the others had described it.
I’d felt relief and joy, especially when I realized that the Smiths were a decent foster family, and not the dysfunctional maniacs I’d been forced to put up with before. But real happiness… that was out of my reach, somehow.
Tears fell from my eyes, droplets spreading on the wooden floor, as I finally let go and just cried. I’d been apparently holding that in for a long time, given how relieved I felt at being able to let it all out. There were so many emotions I’d bottled up inside, since I’d always been busy holding it together as an Empath, feeling others more than myself.
I longed for my real family, the parents that left me at an orphanage. My mother, my father. I couldn’t understand why they’d abandoned me, and that note was barely a Band-Aid on a much bigger wound.
And the thing that hurt me the most was the fact that the coven sounded like a real family, but I was so terrified of being abandoned again, that I couldn’t bring myself to trust them. I was afraid they might kick me to the curb the moment I did something wrong, and, for someone used to being on her own, that would’ve been devastating.
Opening myself up and allowing myself to trust others was a huge step. This underlying fear of abandonment was actively sabotaging my thought process. I worried that the coven might reject me, in the end. With all my tough talk about being an independent girl, I secretly longed for someone to throw their arms wide open and say, “Welcome home, Harley.”
The closest I’d ever gotten to the idea of a real family had been the Smiths, but by then, the emotional damage had been done, thanks to the foster system. I’d been unable to really open up to them, to accept them as a permanent part of my life. There was something awfully wrong with me. I was, by all definitions, damaged goods.
My heart stopped as a large shadow loomed over me.
Ice trickled through my veins, goosebumps racing across my skin as I recognized the low growl coming from behind me. I’d heard it before, behind the casino parking lot.
Claws scratched the floor, and I caught movement at the corner of my eye. There were three of them, I realized, as dread clutched my throat and cut my air off.
I slowly turned my head, just in time to stare into the horrific face of one of three gargoyles in my apartment. The ashen, leathery skin. The crooked stump of a nose. The sharp, bony limbs, and the skinny wings. I’d learned already that not all gargoyles looked alike, but, from what I could see, they were all the epitome of grotesque.