“Gargoyles are, as you so eloquently put it, monsters,” Wade replied. “However, they’re not the regular fleshy monsters you read about in books. Judging by how confused you seem, I’m going to go ahead and assume you’ve never heard of witches, warlocks, or Purges.”
“Wait, are you telling me that witches and warlocks are real?” I asked, suddenly understanding the magnitude of his statement. I’d heard the terms, of course, although mostly from books and movies. The thought that I might be one had crossed my mind, but with no specific literature to explain exactly how I was able to do the things I could do, it had stayed just that—a thought.
“You can’t tell me you’re surprised, based on your abilities.” He sighed, seemingly bored with my obtuseness. But he wasn’t bored at all. The tingling sensation in my throat and limbs was excitement, a curiosity—not just his, though. Some of it was mine. I wasn’t alone in this.
“Not exactly. I’ve just never had a term for it.” I shook my head slowly. “How is this possible?”
“That’s a long story, and I strongly recommend that we clear this area before the rest of the casino employees and customers come out,” Wade replied.
“Hold on,” I said, stepping back before he could take the jar from my hands. “So, what you did… what you do… it’s all magic? Actual magic? Like, wands and all?”
“Give me that.” Wade snatched the jar back, then strode to his Jeep. I didn’t leave his side, watching him put the item in a duffel bag inside the trunk and then walk over to the guy sitting on the other side of the narrow, dimly lit street. “Yes, actual magic. No wands, though. This isn’t a children’s book. This is the real world.”
“So, what, you use rings? Did your witchy ancestors consider wands to be a fashion faux pas, or what?” I shot back.
“Hold that thought,” Wade replied, then shifted his focus to the guy, motioning for him to stand up. The man was about as tall as Wade, but much thinner—though I was willing to bet he had sweated out about ten pounds just from tonight’s events.
Wade snapped his fingers in front of the man’s face as his rings lit up blue. “You. What’s your name?”
“Jamie,” the guy replied absently, a blue glimmer blooming in his eyes.
“Jamie, what were you doing out here tonight?” Wade asked.
Jamie blinked slowly a couple of times, then responded: “I had drinks with some friends. I was walking home.”
“Okay, this is what happened, Jamie. You came out of the bar, where you had drinks with some friends. You were walking home, when two men tried to rob you. You don’t remember their faces, but you got roughed up a little bit. You hit back and ran away. You’re safe now. They’re gone. There’s nothing for you to be afraid of. You didn’t see anything else. You didn’t experience anything else. When you wake up tomorrow, tonight will seem like a distant memory, and you will be at peace. Everything will be okay, Jamie. Obliviscor memoriam.”
Jamie’s eyes shone bright blue for a second, then returned to his natural shade of brown. He took a deep breath, then rubbed his face, as if just waking up from a deep sleep, while Wade put his hands behind his back, the light in his rings gone.
“What… What happened?” Jamie asked. The horror that had been blaring out of him and right into me was gone. Instead, there was confusion, with a tinge of shame, typical of the drunken man who’d lost his way. Whatever Wade had just done to him, it was a lot like hypnotic suggestion, from what I could tell.
“I don’t know, mate.” Wade shrugged, feigning disinterest. “You must be drunk or something. Why don’t you go home? You’re freaking my girlfriend out.”
“Huh?” I mumbled, barely catching his lie, as Jamie stared at me.
“I am so sorry.” Jamie frowned, then walked away, and vanished behind the corner into the main street.
“Your girlfriend?” I glared at Wade, my cheeks on fire.
“Part of the job. We lie, we deceive, we protect their ignorance at any cost,” Wade replied, then turned back and walked over to his car.
“Wait, we?”
“You didn’t think it was just the two of us, did you?”
“Come on, man, you’ve got to give me something more than half-answers and rhetorical questions!” I exclaimed, and caught him by his arm. The muscles beneath the soft fabric of his jacket were rock hard, and I found it hard to let go, even when he stopped and turned around to face me again. “Obviously, I have no idea what I am, what you are, or why there was a gargoyle out in the middle of the freaking city, hunting for dinner! You’re the first person I’ve met who can do… stuff.”
He breathed out, his shoulders dropping, and looked at me for a while, then swiped through his phone.
“Why did you hypnotize him? How did you hypnotize him?” I resumed my line of questioning.
“Humans can’t know who we are and what we can do. It’ll put both us and them in danger, for reasons that cannot be explained in the parking lot of a casino,” Wade replied bluntly. “He’s better off thinking he got mugged, believe me. I’ve got a cleanup crew to handle CCTV and other loose ends. As for the how part—here.”
He took out a business card and handed it to me.
“What’s this?” I asked, turning it over to find his name, phone number, and organization beautifully written in swirly, embossed golden lettering. “Wade Crowley… San Diego Coven. Coven? Seriously? There are covens?”
“I like how you’re able to answer your own questions if I let you think,” he said, and my throat burned the moment he raised his eyebrow again.
“What’s this?” I shot back, my teeth gritting. My patience had abandoned me completely.
“Here’s how it’s going to go from here on out,” he replied, all traces of sarcasm gone. “You are a witch. I am a warlock. Magic, Harley, is real.”
“Wait, you know my name?” I gasped, my eyes widening to the point where I feared I’d feel them pop out of their orbits. He cocked his head to one side, amused that I’d even asked such a question.
Warlock, remember? The dude probably knows your blood type, too!
“Go on,” I whispered, suddenly regretful that I’d interrupted him. Questions were good, but too many could deter him from giving me answers I now desperately needed.
“I belong to the San Diego Coven, and you need to come in soon and introduce yourself to us,” Wade continued. “Witches and wizards rarely fare well on their own. We require the protection, the privileges, and the rules of a coven in order to survive and to thrive. Whatever answers you need, the coven has them, as long as you pledge your allegiance to us.”
“Hold on—allegiance?”
It was my turn to raise both eyebrows at him. I was just getting used to my independence. There was no way in hell I was getting myself tied down to anyone or anything.
“Loyalty. Now that you’ve been discovered, you cannot hide anymore. I will have to report your existence to the coven,” Wade replied.
“Can’t you pretend that we never met?”
“Don’t you want answers?”
“Can’t you give them to me?” I asked, torn between my general wariness of the unknowns presented by a coven’s existence, and my need to understand myself and my abilities.
“You want your cake, and you want to eat it, too, giving nothing in return?” Wade smirked. “That’s a tad naïve.”
“So, what, I just walk into your magical coven, recite some pledge of allegiance, and poof! I’m yours to do with as you please?” I retorted, crossing my arms over my chest. His raised eyebrow made me go over what I’d just said, and I resisted the urge to smack myself for not thinking prior to speaking. “You know what I meant!”
“I do, but that’s not how this works. You have powers, Harley. And with power comes a responsibility, as cheesy as that may sound. The coven doesn’t just offer answers. You’ll learn more about yourself. They’ll teach you how to develop and control your abilities. You’ll become part of a family.”
I didn’t have an answer. Just more questions, a growing pit in my stomach, and the feeling that I could be getting myself into a heap of trouble. Ever since I was a little girl, I had serious issues with authority. I simply could never stand being told what to do, and whom to obey.
My recent stride into adulthood had been an absolute blessing; I no longer had to get anyone’s permission to do whatever I wanted. I followed the rule of law, I paid my taxes, and I kept my abilities to myself because that’s what helped me survive. I didn’t need a coven telling me what I could and couldn’t do.
My knee-jerk reaction was to back away and pretend tonight never even happened.
And Wade could tell that I was thoroughly undecided. Chances were that it was written all over my face, too. “You don’t have to answer right now. Think about it. You have twenty-four hours, after which I’ll be expecting your call.”
This guy is unbelievable.
“That’s your idea of giving me time to think about making a life-changing decision? Twenty-four hours? I’m pretty sure the waiting period for adopting a dog is seven days!” I replied.
“You interrupted my capture of a very dangerous creature just now,” Wade said, his tone implying much more than his words. “You’re lucky I’m not hauling you down to the coven right now. Be thankful that I’m giving you a chance to come in by yourself and show good faith.”
“Interrupted your capture?” I asked, struggling to contain my outrage while riding out the waves of frustration that Wade was experiencing. How was I the one frustrating him? “That guy was about to get eaten alive by a freakin’ gargoyle!”
“And I was there, ready to intervene. There was no need for you to get involved,” he insisted, mirroring my pose as he crossed his arms over his chest.