8. Right place, Right time, Wrong girl
Right place, Right time, Wrong girl
KYRA
A quick glance around tells me I’m the only one in comfortable wear. Red sweatpants, a black hoodie, and jogging shoes.
Right of the entrance, music blasts atop a sturdy metal stage, playing the same tune Raine was whistling. Game of Survival by Ruelle. I gasp; it’s Rosie’s favorite song. One she’d have on repeat all Halloween.
Nostalgia brightens my mood as I enjoy this memory with a smile.
Sweeping the room, I would never have guessed it’s this spacious. Rows of tables on the right stretch towards the back, leaving a bar-top on my left with empty stools. Those seated appear to be having a grand time, receiving beverages in all shapes and colors from the waiters and waitresses.
“Excuse me,” someone behind me voices. I step aside, receiving a “thank you” and let her approach the bar unbothered. I take up at the opposite end and wait for a bartender to show.
Another scan links me with a few students near the front, and one of them catches my stare. I avert my gaze, feeling guilty for spying on what seems to be a secret meeting, when the shaking of ice draws my attention to the woman sitting alone, holding a blue drink and scrolling through her phone.
Not finding a worker in sight, I approach. “May I ask a quick question?”
She clears her throat, peering up with pain trailing from her eyes, and without thinking, my body plops to the neighboring seat. “Yes,” she responds, wiping her falling tears.
“Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine. How can I help you?” Her voice is tender and muffled behind her quivering lips.
“Well, I wanted to ask where’d you get your beverage, but now I feel silly asking.” She gives a puzzled expression, and I immediately know what perplexes her. “I’m new here if that’s what you’re thinking.” She smiles, flicking a wrist over the bar top, revealing a menu. “Of course. Magic.”
“You’ll find what you want and summon it,” she says, her bruised finger pointing at one of the annotated drinks, and with the same flicking motion, the beverage comes to life.
“Is everything around here controlled by magic?”
“This is a magic Academy, so I’d say yes,” she shrugs. “Do you not have any?”
“I don’t know, but I was hoping for a normal bar with normal interactions.”
“Interesting.” She pauses, tapping a finger over the wooden bartop. “I tell you what, take this one, and if you want another, let me know.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“It’s my pleasure. Besides, I’m getting the feeling you need this more than I do.” She hands it over, and a wave of energy connects with me as calmness takes over.
“If you insist, I’d be happy to. Thank you.” We both share a smile, and I extend a hand. “I’m Kyra.”
“Alise.” She takes hold, and I notice the fresh scars and purple bruises .
She retracts, sliding her hands into the pockets of her thin, hooded workout sweater. Despite our surroundings being dimly lit, her features are prominent. Stress lines beneath her eyes, lips pursed, jaw tight, and she sits hunched over on the bar. If I had to guess, her day was worse.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–”
“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Alise deters.
A tick of silence follows as we enjoy our beverages, swaying with the music, and our noses deep in our phones. Hovering over ‘Lost and Found,’ I contemplate sending Raine a message when one of the huddled students approaches, turning the pleasant ambiance into something foul.
“Hey, Alise, how’s it going?” the guy asks.
Wild hair drapes over his creamy forehead. He wears a low smile, which screams creep-o. He is half muscled and half…not. His clothes hint at him trying to be fashionable, yet all I’m getting is spoiled. A never-take-no-for-an-answer kind of guy.
“Not tonight, Zack. I’m not in the mood.”
“But you don’t know what I want,” he pushes.
“I don’t care. I’m not in the mood.”
Zack swivels towards his friends, who all respond with a signal to hurry. It’s obvious she knows him, not by choice, and I fix my focus back on messaging Raine. But I don’t.
“Don’t be like that, Alise. I have one favor to ask, and I’ll be on my way,” he insists.
“I told you no last time, and I’m telling you no now.” She looks past him. “Whatever you and your perverted group of friends want, I’m not doing it.”
I snort and turn it into a cough. I’m not supposed to be listening.
“Hey, don’t be rude. It’s not like you haven’t done it before.” She ignores him, taking another sip, which in return, ruffles the feathers of his boasting peacock demeanor. Zack grabs her arm firmly, and the stench of desperation darkens his features .
“Hey!” Standing with force, I come to her aid. “She said no, that’s your answer. Walk away.”
“Who the fuck are you, her shifter?” he rebuts.
“And if I am?” I channel my inner Celine, or rather convince myself I do.
“Kyra, it’s okay.” Alise softens to a smile, shrugging his arm off.
Scoffing, he reaches for her again, and my fist connects with the side of his face. Pain spreads quickly across my hand, and I wince, withdrawing it. Don’t you dare shed a tear. Embrace the pain. You’re a fay, remember.
“You bitch!” He cups the growing bruise, lining his cheek. “Do you know who I am?”
“Yeah.” Gritting my teeth, I snarl, “A piece of shit who can’t understand the word No. ”
His friends rush over, surrounding us, and my fists ball. But the radiating pain shooting up my arm tells me something is broken–yet again. Wrapping my other hand around it, I step back, tucking it into my stomach.
“You owe me an apology,” Zack demands.
“I’m not apologizing for shit.”
“Then you’ll pay in blood,” one of his groupies interjects. “Get her.”
There are five of them, including Zack, who is their ringleader.
One rushes at me with a pro wrestler build, grabbing my shoulders with hands bigger than my head.
Pulling me towards him, something ceases his movements.
I search his massive arms, finding a smaller and more delicate hand sitting over his bicep.
“Blood, you say?” Alise voices, grinning beneath her hood. “You shouldn’t have touched her.” She peers into his eyes. Her height is laughable compared to his.
“Take your hand off me,” the guy warns, and Zack smirks at his friend’s threat.
“As you wish,” she rebuts.
Blood explodes from one of his arms binding me, slicing it off, and its sheer weight crashes onto the ground with a resounding thud. I freeze in shock as warm liquid coats my cheek and lips.
The behemoth of a man falls in agony, screaming at Alise’s feet while another guy rushes over. But she moves quicker. Side stepping his reach, she plants a hand on his chest, stopping him in an instant as his eyes roll backwards.
Alise brings him to his knees as sounds of torture pierce my ears. He screams, and I witness the brown of his hair turn white as his skin tightens around his now brittle bones. Inch by inch, he ages in a matter of seconds.
Gurgling, he gets out, “Stop,” while kneeling in a pool of his friend’s blood. His plea falls on deaf ears. She continues draining his life until dust and bones remain around a copperish stench. My gut tells me to vacate, but my legs refuse to move, and I lurch, holding back my vomit.
“Don’t just stand there, get her,” Zack bellows to the remaining two.
One rushes for Alise, using magic to form a wooden blade, and swings for her head. She ducks it with ease and swivels to his side, placing a palm on his neck. He blinks, and those pretty blue eyes rupture from their sockets, flying over my head and colliding with the wall. *Smack*
Bile burns up my throat, finding its way out, and I place a hand over my mouth to contain the rest.
He falls beside his friends, and the last guy moves over to Zack. The fear on their faces matches mine.
“Titan, would you still like to continue with your assault?” her voice lazily calls out.
“N–No, ma’am.”
“Good. Now take your hands off her.”
My vision blackens with an unsettling wave of dizziness, and I shake my head to escape it. An acidic taste still lingers, but Speak Easy’s environment returns, and those once dead, now stand huddled. All except for this Titan guy, whose massive hands are still placed on my shoulders.
Sweat drips down his forehead, and he broadcasts an expression of horror.
“W–What…just happened?” I ask, still trembling and confused. She releases his arm in tandem with him releasing my shoulders.
“Let’s get out of here.” He turns to Zack.
“I’m not leaving until I get what I want.”
“I wasn’t asking.” Titan’s large frame redirects towards the group. “If the two of you know what’s good for you, you’ll follow me out. Let Zack perish on his own. I’m not dying for this shit.” The others share a look before racing after him without another word.
“This isn’t over,” Zack threatens, upon fleeing. “And I’ll be seeing you soon, Kyra.” Great, another enemy.
Alise revisits her seat, picking up her beverage and ignoring Zack’s threat. “Kyra, would you like your drink?” she asks, holding it out.
For however long, I stand with my brows pinched, frozen. I’m still in shock after witnessing her murder two men with a smile more twisted than Angie’s. My chest aches from the continuing beating within. But here she is, unfazed and drinking like nothing happened.
“Kyra?”
“No, thank you. I should…” Trying to force my feet to move, I mumble, “Leave.” Yet my body continues rejecting me at every sign of trouble, disregarding the notion to flee.
She’s dangerous–no–a threat. No way she took on three guys and walked away unscathed.
“Your heart’s pounding. Please sit and let me explain,” Alise insists. “I won’t hurt you, promise.” How can she tell I’m nearing a heart attack?
In truth, with the number of people wanting me dead, it’s better to have someone with her strength as a friend rather than an enemy. At least right now she is being nice.
With a deep sigh, I pat my legs and take a seat, not knowing where to put my attention–the door in case Zack returns, or Alise. *Sigh*