Chapter 6
Salem
The cool morning air was biting at my skin as I rolled out of bed. Sunlight filtered through the curtains in my tiny room at the Roost, speckling the cluttered piles of books and crystals scattered across the floor. My space was a mix of biker chaos and witchy tranquility. Leather jackets, tarot decks, half-burned candles, and dried herbs hung from the ceiling in a disarray that only made sense to me. It felt like home. At least, for now.
I stretched, shaking off the remnants of sleep, and my fingers brushed against the small silver charm necklace around my neck—a gift from my mother, back when things were… different. I closed my eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply, centering myself. I needed to focus.
The Heelz girls might think all this witch stuff was just a gimmick, something I played around with to stand out from the rest. They didn’t realize the power that coursed through my veins, didn’t understand that the things I could do weren’t just party tricks or some edgy hobby.
I’d learned a long time ago not to show too much. Folks get scared of what they don’t understand. But there were moments—like when I could feel the crackle of energy in the air—that I wished someone would ask. Ask what it was like to truly feel connected to the world, to the unseen forces that most people ignored.
Floofy was perched on the windowsill, his fluffy white fur practically glowing in the early morning sunlight. His blue eyes followed my every move as I arranged jars of herbs and bottles of oils on the small altar near the window. He’d been with me since he was a kitten, back when he was more fluff than cat. I swear, Floofy had been getting into trouble since day one, and now, as a full-grown, long-haired troublemaker, he was no different.
“Don’t even think about it, Floofy,” I warned, glancing at him as I placed a jar of Florida water next to my candles.
His ears twitched, but he didn’t move. That was his game—he acted all innocent, like he wasn’t plotting something. I knew better.
I turned my back for just a second, reaching for a bundle of sage. Crash.
“Floofy!” I whipped around to see the jar of Florida water lying on its side, a puddle spreading across the windowsill. The white menace sat there, looking far too pleased with himself, his tail twitching lazily.
“You little demon,” I scolded, hands on my hips. “You’ve been with me long enough to know better. What’s your excuse this time, huh?”
Floofy blinked at me, like he had no idea what I was talking about. He stretched, yawned, then hopped down from the windowsill, casually walking away from the mess like he hadn’t just knocked over one of my most-used tools.
“Of course,” I muttered, grabbing a cloth to mop up the spill. “You just had to knock over the Florida water, didn’t you? Couldn’t have gone for the empty jar, no. It’s always the one that’s full.”
He flicked his tail in my direction, probably thinking I was being dramatic.
“And don’t give me that look. You know exactly what you did,” I grumbled, wiping up the last of the water. “You always do this when you want attention.”
Floofy paused at the doorway, casting one last glance over his shoulder. I swear, if a cat could smirk, he’d be doing it right now.
“Yeah, yeah. Go on, act all innocent. But we both know who the real boss is around here, don’t we?”
He disappeared into the next room, leaving me with the spilled water and the distinct feeling that, despite my words, Floofy was the one in charge.
Standing in front of the mirror, I flicked my fingers in the air, mumbling a few words under my breath. The candles on my dresser flickered to life, one by one, their flames swaying like dancers caught in a silent song. I smiled, feeling a small jolt of satisfaction. My abilities weren’t just some fun parlor tricks. They were real. Powerful. And sometimes… unpredictable.
A knock at the door jolted me out of my thoughts. I waved my hand, and the flames snuffed out immediately, leaving a thin trail of smoke in their wake.
“Come in,” I called, trying to sound casual.
Pixie pushed the door open, her pink hair wild and tangled as she leaned against the doorframe. “You doing your spooky shit again?” she asked, her tone teasing, but I caught the hint of curiosity in her voice.
“Maybe,” I replied, shrugging. “Why? You need a spell to fix that mess on your head?”
She shot me a dirty look and sauntered into the room, taking in the mess of my space. “Nah, I’m good. But Rage wants to see you in the yard. Something about you needing to run point on a ride later.”
I nodded, tossing a look to my leather cut. The one waiting for a patch. “Right. I’ll be out in a sec.”
Pixie lingered, her eyes drifting to the shelves where my collection of crystals sat in neat rows. “You know,” she said, trying to sound casual. “Some of the girls are talking. They think you might be a little… too into this witchy stuff.”
I smirked, arching an eyebrow. “Yeah? What’s ‘too into’ supposed to mean? I get off on it or something. Because I don’t.”
She laughed, but there was an edge to it. “You know what I mean. Fortune telling, that’s fun. Everyone loves a witch until you start doing witch shit. Just be careful. You start pulling out the real shit in front of the wrong people, and it’s gonna raise questions. Especially if someone gets spooked. Most members are carrying. This is Florida. If they think you’re in league with the devil, they’ll shoot first and ask questions later.”
The devil? The devil had nothing to do with it. But I bit my lip. She wasn’t wrong. My abilities had already caught the attention of some of the older girls. It wasn’t just the tarot readings or my knowledge of herbs—it was the way I seemed to know things before they happened, the way lights would flicker when I was pissed off, or the way my presence could make the air dense.
They all thought it was just a vibe I gave off, part of my witchy persona. But it wasn’t a persona. It was just me. Every part of it. I didn’t ask for this.
“I’ll keep it in check,” I said, though even I wasn’t sure how much of that was true.
Pixie gave me one last look before turning to leave, her footsteps fading as she walked down the hall. I sighed, tousling my tangled mess of curls. I wasn’t going to stop being who I was just to make the rest of them comfortable. I couldn’t suppress the power that flowed through me, the connection I had to the world around me.
After Pixie left, I pulled out my tarot deck from the drawer, the cards worn and well-loved from years of use. I spread them out on the dresser, the cool energy of the cards familiar under my fingers. My hands hovered over the deck for a moment, then I shuffled, feeling the pulse of each card as I drew one from the top.
The Tower.
My stomach twisted. The card depicted a lightning-struck tower, flames bursting from its windows as figures fell from its heights. The Tower was all about chaos, about destruction and rebirth. It meant change—big change. The kind you couldn’t avoid, no matter how much you tried.
“Great,” I muttered under my breath. “Just what I need. More fucking chaos.”
I tucked the card back into the deck and shoved it into my bag. Maybe Pixie was right—maybe I did need to keep my abilities under wraps. But something told me that wasn’t going to be an option for much longer. I could feel the pull, the shift in the air. Things were about to change, and not just for me.
By the time I made it out into the yard, the rest of the girls were already prepping for the ride. The bikes came alive, filling the area with the familiar noise of engines and the smell of gas. But even with all the craziness, I couldn't get rid of the unease in my chest.
I mounted my bike, the cool metal of the handlebars grounding me for a second as I kicked the engine to life. I was Salem, the witchy prospect of the Hell on Heelz MC, and nothing scared me. Not ghosts, not curses, and definitely not the unpredictable power that simmered beneath the surface.
Bullshit.
These things probably scared me more than most because I recognized they could be real. But I would keep up the act.
While riding away from the yard, I couldn't help but steal a glance at the farmhouse in the distance. The shadows elongated a bit, and the air turned a bit colder. And for the first time in a long while, I wasn’t so sure I’d be able to control what was coming next.