Chapter 1
Sandra
The shrill ring of my mobile phone breaks the blessed silence, rousing me from a deep sleep with the subtlety of an apocalypse, as if it were an alarm announcing the end of time.
"By the stars, who's waking me up now?" I mutter, groping desperately under the pillow until I find the device.
My eyes, still heavy with sleep, struggle to open, but it's the name on the screen that finally wakes me up.
Lucy!
A video call.
I get up at once, my heart racing. I grab my phone and look around — the tiny flat, with walls stained by water damage, the old mattress on the floor taking up almost all the space, and my clothes piled on the only chair that was meant to be for sitting, but has become a makeshift wardrobe.
I go to the window and sit on the windowsill, blocking the view of the rest of the flat. Lucy can't see the deplorable state of the place where I'm living. I don't want to worry her when she already has enough to worry about.
I run my fingers through my tangled black hair, trying to tidy it up a little before finally answering. When I slide my finger across the screen and the connection is made, my smile is already rehearsed and ready.
"Babes!" I answer, and the moment I see her, my smile becomes genuine.
"Hey, babes! Sorry I didn't return your call yesterday, I was assisting with an emergency surgery, then I got home so tired that I passed out." She pouts in disappointment with herself, her big brown eyes full of regret.
"It's okay, I figured something like that had happened."
"But yesterday was eight years since I moved to Boston..." Her voice sounds guilty, and I quickly let out a light laugh to break the tension. "I broke my promise to always see each other on this day. If I could..."
"You would have teleported here, right?" I joke, winking at her, while keeping my smile as carefree as possible. "Relax, babes. We're talking now, aren't we?"
Lucy nods, but the small crease on her forehead betrays her concern. She brings her phone closer, studying me as if she could see beyond the screen.
"Are you okay, Sandra?"
"Of course, I'm great!" My answer comes out quick and full of enthusiasm, as always.
She narrows her eyes, suspicious.
"You look pale, hun. Are you sure everything's okay?"
"Yes, I just didn't sleep well." I give a nervous chuckle and wave my hand in the air. "But since you woke me up, I'll start my day."
"Oh, my God, I'm sorry!" She puts her hand to her mouth, mortified. "I didn't know you were still asleep."
"Relax. It's already one in the afternoon. It was about time."
Lucy sighs, throwing her head back.
“I hate these night shifts. Staying awake all night is insane. I don't know how you manage to do it every day.”
"My body's used to it." I shrug. "Unlike you, who's always changing shifts. I sleep in the morning and wake up in the afternoon every single day, so my body's gotten into a rhythm."
"Yeah, you're right..." she mutters, but her sentence is interrupted.
"Lucy!" a male voice shouts from another room. "Can you get me a beer?"
She rolls her eyes and sighs.
"Just a second, Sandra," she says, already getting up to fulfil the request.
I watch as she walks to the kitchen with her mobile phone still in her hand, opens the fridge and returns with a can, handing it to Brian in the living room, who doesn't thank her. When Lucy returns to the room and closes the door behind her, I can barely contain my irritation.
"What is your fiancé doing that he can't walk to the kitchen and get his own beer?" I snap.
Lucy hesitates before answering:
"He's gaming."
I feel the blood rush to my head.
"He's gaming while you’re busting your ass working, cooking, cleaning, and even serving him? "
"He's been stressed at work, Sandra."
I let out a dry laugh, incredulous.
“Today is Saturday. He doesn't work, but you do.”
"Playing with his friends helps him relax..." My friend tries to defend him, and it makes my chest tighten.
"What about you, Lucy? When do you relax? Or does your well-being simply not matter in this relationship?"
She lowers her eyes and shrugs, seeming to hold back tears.
"He's my family now, Sandra. What's left of it."
The words hit hard. I don't have anyone either.
The memory of the cancer that took my grandmother is still an open wound.
I lost everything, but at least I have Lucy.
Except she... She has that idiot Brian.
"I'll talk to him later." Lucy's voice pulls me back. "We’ll split the housework better."
I mumble something in agreement, trying to swallow my anger.
"I miss you," I say, changing the subject.
"Me too," Lucy sighs. "I'll try to visit you soon to see your new flat. Life has been so busy, it's been almost a year since I've been there, I need to go back."
Despair rises in my throat.
"Oh, you don't have to come so soon. Actually, I'm thinking of moving again. Better to wait."
"Why?"
"I want something closer to work." The lie slips out before I can stop myself.
Lucy smiles, seeming to believe my lame excuse.
"All right. I'm going to lunch, we'll talk later, okay?"
“Okay, I love you.”
"I love you more," she says, blowing me a kiss.
I hang up and stare at my phone in silence.
I hate lying to her. But how could I tell her the truth?
That sometimes I don't eat properly, that this flat is almost a cubicle and that the job at the tavern barely covers my debts?
Lucy already has too many problems.
Just as I lost my grandmother, my only family, Lucy lost her parents not long ago.
The difference is that while my loss left me with nothing, Lucy inherited enough to remain stable.
If she knew how I was, she would surely insist on helping me, but I would never make her use money that carries so much emotional weight to alleviate my problems.
I can't be that selfish.
I get up and go to the kitchen, my stomach rumbling with hunger. I only have enough ingredients for a peanut butter sandwich, and I already need to scrape the jar, which is almost empty. I open the fridge and grab the milk, but when I open the carton, the sour smell makes me wrinkle my nose.
"Oh, great! Just when you think you've hit rock bottom, the universe comes along and throws you another shovel to dig a little deeper."
With a heavy sigh, I go to the drawer where I keep my tip money. My heart sinks when I look at the notes I've set aside for rent. Today is payday, but the amount is still not enough.
I stand there, staring at the small pile as if it could magically multiply. But reality doesn't change: I need to eat. I can't keep ignoring my empty stomach.
Before leaving, I peek into the hallway to make sure the landlord isn't around — the first thing he would do if he saw me would be to demand payment. I hurry down the stairs and head to the market. There, I buy a gallon of milk and some blackberries for a smoothie.
I hug the shopping bag and head towards my building. As I turn the corner, there it is: a monster of concrete and exposed bricks, with a worn-out facade. The view of the building is as deplorable as its interior. Five floors, each more decadent than the last.
To top it off, the place doesn't allow pets.
It was a detail that should have prevented me from moving there, but I had no choice. The rent is the cheapest I could find, and even so, I can't easily afford it. Not after my car broke down for good and my extra income as an app driver dried up.
I've been trying to find a part-time job that fits my schedule for three months, without success. I start at the tavern at 8 pm and don't leave until 4 am. I need at least 8 hours of sleep to be able to handle two shifts.
I've walked all over this city looking for a job. If it weren't for my supernatural powers of recovery, my feet would be covered in blisters. And even so, I'm not having any luck. I had an interview this afternoon, but yesterday I got a message saying they'd already hired someone else.
I walk through the gate and the smell of mould invades my nostrils. I rush up the stairs with their filthy carpet, trying to escape the strong smell. When I reach my floor, I see the landlord.
Oh, no...
I think about turning around and sneaking away, but he sees me too.
"Miss Black," he says, his voice as harsh as ever.
I force a smile, turning on all my charm.
"How lucky! I really wanted to talk to you," I lie shamelessly.
He frowns, but his scowl softens slightly when his dark eyes fix on my cleavage.
"I imagine it's to talk about the overdue rent..." His gaze rises to mine before returning downward, then he licks his teeth.
My smile freezes.
"That's exactly what it was about! I have the amount that was missing from last month. I'll go get it right now and..."
"And this month's?"
My heart sinks in my chest.
"Can I pay later?" I bat my long eyelashes, trying to persuade him, even though my stomach churns at the dirty look he gives me.
"This is the third consecutive month you've been late, and last month you only paid me half. I've been patient until now, but everything has a limit."
“I just need one more week, please.”
"No. If I don't get it by Monday, I'll give the order to evict you." He licks his lips, still looking at me lasciviously. "But I might change my mind if you let me suck those..."
"I'll get the money by Monday, you can count on it!" I interrupt, before he finishes his sentence.
I take a step back, feeling dirty to the bone.
He could be my grandfather!
The landlord walks past me, his shoulder brushing against mine, making me shudder with disgust.
"See you on Monday, Miss Black," he mutters, walking down the stairs.
I don't look back, I just keep walking, trying to hold back the tears.
Inside the flat, I put the shopping on the counter and stare at the cubicle I call home.
Two days. I only have two days to pay what I owe.
I need more tips at the tavern.
I need a miracle!
When it's time to get ready for work, I rummage through the clothes folded on the chair. Maybe a generous neckline will bring me more tips. With a blouse and trousers that mould my curves, I look at myself in the mirror and let out a breath, trying not to think about how all this wears me down.
If that's what I need to do to make more money, so be it. I can't afford to hesitate. I've done worse things.
As soon as I finish putting on my boots, ready to leave, my mobile phone vibrates in the middle of the mess with a text message alert.
I rummage through the room, following the sound, until I find the blessed thing under the clothes I threw on the mattress.
Losing things has become almost a speciality of mine — keys, mobile phone, always a daily challenge.
Part of it is because my mind is always jumping from one thing to another, distracted by any detail that catches my attention.
Sometimes, just the glint of a bracelet forgotten on the floor is enough to make me lose my train of thought.
I unlock the screen, and the message is from Luther.
Luther: Have you left home yet?
Me: Not yet. Why?
Luther: I'm on my way. I'll pick you up in 10 minutes.
A sigh of relief escapes without me noticing.
What a nice surprise. He lives on the other side of town, but I'm not crazy enough to question why he's offering me a lift now.
There's nothing better than not having to walk twenty minutes to the pub in the middle of the night.
Me: Thank you! You're an angel.
His response comes quickly, almost instantly.
Luther: Angels don't expect a kiss as payment.
I let out a low laugh, shaking my head as I send a laughing emoji back.
Me: Dream on, Luther.
Luther: It costs nothing to dream.
I bite my lip, stifling a laugh. Luther is handsome, charismatic, and an unscrupulous womaniser, always on the lookout for his next conquest.
And as unbearably shameless as he is, he's one of the few people I consider a friend in this crazy supernatural world I live in.