Chapter 8 #2
But beyond him, I swear I can make out a shape hovering in the shadows by a covered arch. The figure looks translucent and seems to shimmer, its form shifting as if caught between existing and fading away.
My breath catches, and I blink a few times. Is that real? Is this happening? Can all witches see ghosts, or is this my affinity taking hold? Sebastian said with the first block of my powers removed, my magic would start to surface.
I give my head a shake and blink, but the ghostly form remains. It tilts its head as if sensing my attention. Then, suddenly, it stiffens and streaks off.
It doesn’t walk or drift or even fade into the shadows. It streaks into the trees, disappearing beyond my sight.
I turn away from the window, my mind awhirl. Given the choice, I would rather be a plant witch or maybe command the weather. Seeing ghosts seems kind of dark and eerie.
But I love sharing an affinity with my mother. It makes me feel closer to her somehow.
I scan the darkness again, focusing on the energy of the cemetery. My head is buzzing, and my skin feels like a million ants are scurrying around under my flesh.
Is that normal?
“I just saw a ghost—is any of this normal?”
“Normal is a construct of the weak-minded.” A male voice within the crypt says. It sounds bored and yet condescending at the same time. “Dare to be more than the timid and tame.”
I whirl around, searching for the source, but there’s no one there. My pulse thunders, rushing hot through my veins.
“As my designated witch, I will hold you to a higher standard.” A translucent blue cat leaps effortlessly onto the marble altar table in the center of the space and sits, staring. “Go ahead. Dazzle me.”
What the hell?
It’s a Siamese cat. Well, at least the ghost of a cat. Are ghost cats a thing? Either way, despite not being corporeal, he is still decidedly a cat.
“How… where… what…?” My brain has short-circuited and is rapid-firing incomplete thoughts.
The cat lets out a long sigh. “Tell me you aren’t daft. The last witch I was paired with wasn’t a genius, but he could at least put together a complete sentence.”
I blink. “I’m not daft. Excuse me for taking a moment when insulted by a talking cat playing the part of a mausoleum night light.”
The soft, ethereal blue light clinging to the cat’s fur pulses gently, like he’s made of moonlight and magic. His gaze locks with mine, studying me with eerie intelligence.
I scratch at my arms, the discomfort from the scurrying of ants beneath my skin growing stronger… like painfully strong. “And what do you mean, the last witch you were paired with? Who are you?”
The glowing blue cat blinks at me, tail flicking. “What don’t you understand, sparkle-fingers? It’s basic. You’re a witch. I’m the familiar assigned to you.”
“Assigned?” I blink at him, mouth agape. “Assigned by whom?”
“Someone more powerful than either of us.” For the first time, the cat looks around, taking it our surroundings. “Ah, the soul-shriveling aroma of death, despair, and disappointed ancestors. Charming.”
I rub a hand over my face, and push at the pressure building in my forehead. “Who are you exactly?”
“I’m S’Narkathis of Incessant Ridicule, Minor Demon, Personal Attendant, but you can call me SIR.”
Yeah, no, that won’t be happening. “Wait. Minor demon? Demons are real?”
The cat blinks at me. “Satan’s tits, you’re really not selling your claim that you’re not daft. I have slime between my toes with higher intelligence than you.”
“Rude and also gross. I’m not dumb, I just don’t know who you are or why you’re here.”
“Try to keep up, sparkles. I’m. Your. Familiar.” He stretches each word out, speaking in slow-motion. “Tell me you’re at least somebody impressive in the magical world.”
I straighten and shrug. “I think my family might be a big deal locally, but I only found out about magic two days ago, so what the hell do I know?”
The cat glares at me. “Are you fucking with me?”
“Uh, no.”
“You know nothing?”
“Now you’re getting it.”
The cat puffs up, and energy sparks off him like Roman candles on the 4th of July.
“Motherfucking bastard. I bet Vaelzor of the Obsidian Ledger did this. That bureaucratic imbecile has been plotting against me for centuries. One down and dirty week with his wife and mother and the guy is like a hellhound on spilled entrails.”
I step back as the cat angrily paces across the stone altar table.
As he does, his form flickers in and out and flashes to other forms: a bat with threatening fangs, a mangy dog with glowing eyes, a gremlin-looking thing with a mohawk, straight out of the 80s movie.
And with each new form, flames arch off him and shoot through the air.
Wow, I’m thankful that everything in this room is stone and won’t catch fire.
“Yeah, well, that sucks. I guess you’ll be putting in a grievance for reassignment, huh?”
He scoffs. “Oh, that I could. But duty is a sadistic bitch, and when she stabs you, it’s usually in the nuts, and with a serrated blade.”
“Wow, you sure know how to make a girl feel special.”
“I’m a demon, sparkles. I don’t do feelings.”
“Alrighty then, march right back to where you came from. Safe travels. Buh-bye.” I really don’t know what’s going on anymore, but I’ve had enough. “Goodbye family. I’ll be back.”
Hopefully, when I’m not being hazed by a demon ghost cat. Yeah, who could’ve guessed that was something I would ever say to myself?
“A demon familiar? Were you breathing mold spores in that crypt? Are you high?” Asher stretches up on the step stool and grabs three more books from the highest shelf in the library. “That is bonkers, baby girl. Like major wackadoodle.”
“Trust me, I’m aware.”
He hands the books down and then reaches back up for three more. “So, where is he now? As a familiar, isn’t he supposed to be here to back you up?”
“He deemed me unworthy, and we had words.”
Asher snorts. “I would expect nothing less.”
“Yeah, well, he may well have blown me off.”
“Rude. That’s his loss because you’re fabulous and you’re going to crush this whole witch thing.”
“Damn right I am.”
I examine the books and decide they are newer than some of the others. I set them on the game table to sort through after lunch. There are so many textbooks and tomes, I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to read them all.
“Do you think I could be a witch?”
I turn to look at Asher, and that right there is why I love him so hard. He never questions my reality, and he supports me, no matter how crazy the things I say might sound.
“Or would I be a wizard? That would be cool, right? The two of us could be the Harry and Hermione of our generation.”
Man, I would love that. I would love to have him in this with me so the two of us could truly take on the magical world together.
“So, tell me this,” Asher continues, oblivious to my mental tailspin. “If witches and demons are real—and without having seen this blue glowy cat myself, I’m not convinced demons are real—could shifters be real?”
I blink. “I have no idea. Why?”
He gives me a ‘well, duh’ stare. “Because the romance series I’m reading right now is about a chosen one,” he gestures to me, “finding out she’s a magical phenom and has been bound to four insatiable male shifter protectors.
Shifters are hot and sexy, and let me tell you, these guardians fuck at an Olympic level. ”
“Is that an official Olympic sport or one of those trial sports people vote whether or not should be included?”
Asher grins. “Could you imagine?”
“No. And you’re getting off point.”
He gives himself a shake. “Agreed. But if you find out that shifters are a real thing, I expect an introduction. You know my type, so keep an eye out.”
“Your type is hot and horny.”
He flutters his eyelashes at me and smiles. “You get me. But seriously, if there’s a paranormal penis parade, I expect to be invited.”
I laugh and reach up to accept the next bunch of books. Witches are real. Demons are real. What about shifters or vampires or yeti?
How much of what we think is fiction is actually truth leaking out into the world of the non-magical folks?
Asher brings the last of the books down himself and sets them on the table next to the other stacks.
His face is tilted toward the autumn sun beaming through the window, and his shaggy blond hair catches the light.
He looks like a buff, tanned surfer god who somehow ended up in small-town New England.
I let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry all this drama has derailed your life. If you need to go back—”
He holds up a finger. “I’ll stop you right there.
I’m exactly where I want and need to be.
Nothing in Kansas or anywhere else is of any importance to me.
Your destiny brought you here, and my destiny brought me to you.
We’re connected. Your drama is my drama.
I’m not going anywhere, nor do I want to. ”
He opens his arms, and I step against his chest. The warmth of his hug and the strength of his embrace allow me to breathe again. I didn’t even realize how badly I needed a little Asher love.
“Are you unraveling?” His voice is casual, but his gaze is serious when he eases back to meet mine.
“It’s a sliding scale. I think on some level, I knew about magic, so I’m not completely freaked out, but I’ve got these panic loops running through my head saying, ‘there’s so much you don’t know,’ and ‘the coven will come for you, and you’re not prepared,’ and ‘Violet and Lily are out there. Are they blank? Scared? Alone?’.
I just don’t know how to quiet the rush of that panic enough to breathe. ”
He pulls me back in and squeezes me tight again. “But you’re not blank or alone anymore. I’ve got you, and there isn’t anything we can’t do, right?”
“Right.”
He steps back, collects my wrists in his hands, and shakes my arms out. “Your mom’s family is among the elite of the town’s legacy witches. They’ve got roots, and, by the sounds of it, they had real juice.”
That’s true.
“So, we’re going to read every dusty old book and study our asses off. We’ll get you on the magical playing field faster than anyone expects. Then, we’ll find Violet and Lily, and the Hallowind sisters will be a force to be reckoned with.”
I draw a deep breath and envision that. “Dude. Your talent is wasted in computer science. You’ve got some serious pep squad skills.”
He grins and waggles his eyebrows. “I will always be your cheerleader, Pops. I know you. I know what it’s like to lose a family. If there were more to know about what happened with my parents, I’d be all over it.”
I lace my fingers with his and squeeze. “Life is weird, isn’t it?”
“It’s a ride, all right.” There’s a sadness in his words, and my heart hurts for him. Asher doesn’t let the loss of his parents get him down most days, but I’m his safe space, so, when it does, it’s with me.
The two of us stand there, sharing a quiet moment until the peace is shattered by the ringtone of his phone. Asher arches a blond brow and pegs me with a look. “It’s Tanner Oakley from the diner.”
He swipes to accept the call. “Hey, Mr. Biscuits, what can I do for you?”
Tanner chuckles on the other end of the line. “Well, when you were in here yesterday, you mentioned grabbing the odd shift if I needed someone last minute. Does that offer still stand?”
Yeah, if we’re staying here, we need to make money. Even if this house is self-sustaining, we still have our apartment and our bills to pay back in Wichita.
Asher checks in with me, and I nod. “Yeah, we’re game. What do you need?”
“Wonderful. Our busboy Kenny has the flu bug that’s taking half the town down. If you’re free, I need help with bussing tables, restocking, and we’ve got a truck scheduled for four o’clock and could use the extra muscle. Can you help a guy out?”
I see the hesitation in Asher’s expression and know what he’s thinking. He’s worried about leaving me. I wave away his concern and give him two thumbs up.
He studies me for a minute and then winks. “Why yes, yes, I can. I’m on my way.”