Scarred (the Spellbound Series Book 3) (8 page)

              “Well, my job search hasn’t been any more fruitful,” she says. “But I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want to do with my life.”

              “Yeah?”

              “I think I want to be a vet. I love animals, but I’ve hurt a lot of them in the past because of the full moon… I feel like this is one way I can learn to live with that part of me. To make up for what I’ve done.”

              I try to imagine Rachel in a white lab coat, her fiery hair tied up in a bun while she prepares to give some poor dog surgery. It’s easy enough to picture; Rachel might make a good veterinarian. “Have you guys joined a pack yet?,” I ask.

              “Kind of,” Landon answers. “Once in a while we hang out with these guys who call themselves a pack. Really, they’re just a bunch of weres in college who like to let loose and chill as a group.”

              “Yeah. Come to think of it, didn’t they invite us to something?,” Rachel asks.

“Mhmm. This guy Scott invited every ‘freak’ from here to Syracuse to a house party. You in, Heather?”

              “Sure,” I mutter. “I could do a party, I guess. Who’s gonna be there?”

              “Anyone who’s ever howled at the moon, drank a teaspoon of blood, did some weird spellcaster shit, brewed a potion, or done anything distinctly frowned upon by the general population. It’s gonna be great!”

              To be honest, this party is sounding more and more appealing. It’ll give me something to do tomorrow night, and I’ve been starved of social interaction for so long. It’ll be nice to be around people who have no idea who I am, or what I’ve done. “Where is this party going down?”

              “We’ll pick you guys up,” Landon says.

              “You guys?”

              “Yeah. Alyssa’s invited too, if she wants to come.”

              “No way! We have to invite Nick too,” Rachel argues.

              “He doesn’t
need
to be everywhere she goes!”

              “Neither does the little goth who could-“

              “For the last time, she’s reformed! And now that Lily’s out of the picture-“

              “You really trust someone with
her
judgment to date my best friend? Real nice.”

              “I was the one who pushed Nick into asking her out in the first place! Was that a bad call?”

              I groan, and lean back in my seat. I know they mean well, but I’d rather not hear this conversation. I stare out the window, thinking about tomorrow night and what it’ll hold. Best case scenario, it’ll just be a fun night with some of my favorite people. Worst case… I’d rather not contemplate the options. I just pray that nothing will make me regret leaving Michael’s property.

8

            
 
For the first time since arriving in Huron, I feel like I may have packed a little too lightly. Getting dressed has always been a simple matter; usually, I’m only heading off into the woods to train with Michael, and I’m miles away from anyone I’d ever need to impress. I’ve never had to look
good
. But now, as I rifle through my meager clothing selection, I regret tossing aside that black dress after the funeral. It’s probably long gone by now.

              I flop down on my bed, cursing myself for waiting this long to figure out what to wear. Landon and Rachel will be here with the truck in an hour. I’m running out of time. I decide to stick with the black tank top I have on now, and throw a plaid shirt over it, leaving it unbuttoned for the moment. I struggle into a pair of ripped jeans I haven’t worn since high school, then check my reflection in the mirror.

It takes less than a second to determine that I don’t look quite right. On a whim, I use a spell to remove the bottom half of my tank top, so that my stomach is showing. Getting closer to what I want. Next, I sever my old pants so that they become a pair of shorts that only cover half my thigh. As an afterthought, I slip on the necklace Michael gave me as an infant, and arrange the winged pendant in the middle of my chest. I’ve taken to wearing it on occasion, as opposed to leaving it hanging by my bed.  I’m still not used to actually
wearing
the necklace, but it’s about the only piece of jewelry I have.

I check myself over, and shrug at my own reflection. It isn’t perfect, but it’ll have to do. I slip on my dirty black Converse, and head downstairs to wait in the living room.

I thought by now, I’d be the only one occupying the room, but my mom is still in her claimed spot on the couch, chipping away at her manuscript. I sit next to her, and ask, “How’s the story going today?”

“Not well,” my mom says with a shrug. “Or well, depending on how you look at it.”

I double check the clasp on Michael’s necklace, and center the winged pendant above my sternum. “Elaborate?”

“I thought of something that would make the story flow
so
much better, but I can’t use it. Not without rewriting most of what I already have.”

“That’s what drafts are for, Mom. I don’t think any rough draft ever has been published.”

“I know. And my heart says it’s for the best, but… I don’t know. For whatever reason, I’m just holding myself back.”

At that precise moment, Alyssa appears at the bottom of the stairs, dressed and ready to go. Unlike me, she looks incredible; I envy her for thinking to bring clothes that are party-appropriate and form fitting. It’s just a light pink crocheted knit top, paired with midnight blue jeans, but it takes some effort to take my eyes off of her. To my mother, I respond, “I know the feeling.”

Alyssa walks past us into the kitchen, and asks, “Are we all ready to go?”

“Not quite. We’re still waiting on Nick.”

“Oh.” Alyssa grabs a bottle of water out of the fridge, and tosses it to me before grabbing one of her own. “Do you think you’re ever gonna cut him some slack?”

I frown, and unscrew my water bottle before answering. “Do you think we can avoid the topic for one night?”

“Fair enough.”

Nick finally comes down from his room a few minutes later, in a simple button down shirt and jeans. He glances at me once, then turns to Alyssa, and asks, “Ready to party?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she says. “Come here, let me fix your collar.”

I watch the two of them interact, and it hits me for the first time just how isolated I’ve made myself. I used to be so close to the both of them. But when I pushed Nick away, he took Alyssa as well. As she straightens Nick’s collar, I notice a couple of thin black veins reaching up the side of his neck. That’s new; the last time I really looked at Nick, the veins were only prominent on his chest. So either I’m remembering things wrong, or they’re spreading. I vaguely wonder if this is a side effect of Lucifer’s deal. Two seconds later, I decide not to care. Nicholas Brandt is no longer my problem.

Before long, I hear a car rolling along the dirt driveway, and Landon’s impatient honking as they come to a stop in front of the house. I hug my mom tightly before rushing out the door, only to regret getting in the truck at all. Nick is already in position behind Landon, and Alyssa is holding the door open for me. I’ll have to sit between the two of them. I reluctantly slide into the seat next to Nick, and have to press against him as Alyssa hops in after me. I try to push them both aside so I can have room, but Landon just
had
to choose the narrowest pickup truck known to man.

Landon turns back to face us, grinning with excitement. “Buckle up, kiddies. It’s a long ride to Auburn.”

***

I don’t know what I was expecting out of this party. The last one I went to was a small event in Alyssa’s old apartment, for our birthday. This… is decidedly different. There are metahumans of nearly every kind in attendance, so many that I never see the same exact faces in the same room twice. Several of them stick out from the others; a male spellcaster with neon highlights in his hair that periodically change color; a vampire wearing golden contacts; a small group of werewolves wearing silver bullets around their necks; and my personal favorite, a bald demon wearing a shirt that says
333 (I’m only half evil)
.

There are even a few people I can’t place; I can recognize the distinctions between most beings with my second sight, an ability that only the strongest of spellcasters can use. We can
feel
the essence of the people around us, and everyone’s essence feels different. The differences are especially drastic between the “species”; humans, demons, spellcasters, werewolves, vampires, and everything else feel distinct from each other in huge ways. And all these and more surround me at the party, information flooding into me from all angles. I can feel everyone within the walls of this house, and even those a few houses down the road. At least four dozen strangers, each of their auras brushing up against mine.

I don’t really know anyone here besides my friends, nor do I care to, so I spend a lot of the party by the snack table, indulging in the fatty foods that Michael refuses to buy. I lost sight of everyone soon after we arrived; they all seem to know how to interact at these sorts of things. Somehow, I’m the wallflower of the group. So when I notice that I’m thirsty, and reach for one of the cups lined up on a table, it comes as a shock when Landon slaps my hand away. “I wouldn’t if I were you,” he shouts over the booming music. “Those potions could mess you up if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Potions?” I look down at the cups, their contents rippling innocently with every beat of the song.

“Yeah. There are a few witches here, they came with a few special brews. I’m not sure what they do yet.”

I thank Landon, and stare down at the cups lined along the edge of the table. On closer inspection, some of them are steaming, even though they’re freezing to the touch. Others are sparkling with a strange gold dust that shifts on its own, as if there’s a current running under the liquid’s surface. I heed Landon’s warning, and explore the house in search of a water bottle.

I push past throngs of people standing in doorways, in hallways, in
my
way, and try to be courteous despite their drunken lack of concern for my presence. Unfortunately, I don’t know my way around the house, so it takes a few tries to find the kitchen. When I finally do, I reach into the fridge for a drink, and take a few sips before looking around. I don’t recognize any of the people around me, save for the bald demon, and I’m not about to strike up a conversation with him. So I push my way back towards the rest of the party, hoping to find a friendly face. The only one I can find, however, is Nick, talking to some girl that I don’t recognize.

It’s stupid, I know, but I’m immediately jealous of her. She’s tiny, shorter than even Alyssa, with features so slender that I worry she’s underfed. She has a thin face that ends in a pointed chin, and wild purple eyes with catlike irises that make me certain she isn’t human. I don’t know what she is, exactly; I read her energy with my second sight, but find that she isn’t like anyone I’ve encountered before. She feels reminiscent of a spellcaster, but with unrestrained power, pouring from a network that she shares with others. I take a guess at what she is, but it isn’t until she giggles, and sprouts thin, gossamer-like wings from her back that I’m absolutely sure. She’s a faerie, one of the more elusive varieties of metahuman.

Part of me longs to claw her face off. I’m surprised by how strong the urge is, and it would be so easy… but the rational part of me knows I’m just being selfish. I can’t begrudge Nick this one conversation with someone he’ll probably never see again, especially after how horrible I’ve been to him. He can have his faerie girl. I’ll just have to deal with it.

I’m just about to find a different place to awkwardly stand, when someone throws their arm around my shoulders, and points in Nick’s direction. “You’re not special, honey!,” Rachel shouts at the faerie girl. “You’re not the only one at this party with wings!”

I shove Rachel off of me, and ask, “What are you doing?”

“I’m showing this skank who’s boss!” She’s drunk, which is mildly surprising. Rachel isn’t normally the type to “let loose”. She lifts my hand into the air, and says, “This girl right here has a set of wings you wouldn’t believe!”

“Rachel,
stop
-“

“Come on, show them! We’re all friends here!”

“It’s not a fucking party trick.”

“Everyone stand back, she’s gonna do it!”

I sigh, and wait for the other partygoers to clear a space for me. Rachel’s already opened her big mouth; I can’t disappoint them now. Once there’s enough room, I set my wings free, wincing as they tear through the fabric of my clothing. The crowd oohs, and several of them ask if they can touch my wings. I shrug, and let it happen. At this point, I don’t care. They’ll all forget about me in five minutes.

The faerie girl watches me unblinkingly, and it’s hard to tell if she’s impressed or not. She whispers something to Nick, then casually makes her way over to me, tiny wings fluttering just quickly enough to keep her an inch off the ground. “Are you a Nephilim?,” she asks sweetly, her melodic voice catching me slightly off guard.

“Yep,” I respond quickly. I’m not sure what this girl wants, but I don’t plan on keeping up a conversation with her.

“That’s amazing! I’ve only met one other guy with wings.”

“Guy?” Okay,
now
she has my full attention. “What do you mean, guy?”

“Yeah, we met in L.A. about two years ago. Tall, blond, short hair, works at In-N-Out. Do you know him?”

That doesn’t make any sense… Lily’s lived in New York City all of her life, and to the best of my knowledge, has been solidly female all her life. This girl’s story can’t be possible. “Look, um…”

“Amy.”

“Amy. I don’t know what you saw, but… There’s only one other person like me out there, and she doesn’t fit your description.”

“Hmm. Oh well.” Amy shrugs, and says, “Maybe I was mistaken.”

“Maybe. You should probably get back to your friend over there, he looks pretty lonely.”

Amy looks over her shoulder at Nick, then giggles, and whispers to me, “He’s no friend. He’s tonight’s entertainment.”

“Right. Well, even so.”

“Suppose you’re right. Nice meeting you, Heather.”

“Yeah, you too.” Amy turns, and flits her way over to Nick, who’s fixing me with an apologetic stare. It isn’t until he breaks his gaze that I realize I never told Amy my name. I shrug it off as I walk out of the room; stranger things have happened. What I’m more concerned about is Amy’s supposed Nephilim sighting. Could she have met someone in Los Angeles with angel blood in them? Or was she mistaken? There’s no way to know.

I pass by Rachel on my way to a quieter part of the house. I “accidentally” bump her with an outstretched wing, and mutter, “Thanks,” before slipping out of sight.

              Thus far, I’ve avoided exploring the second floor of the house. When I did the math in my head, I found the combination of drunk people and unoccupied bedrooms could only lead to one thing. But it’s the only place I haven’t been yet, and I’d like to put some distance between myself and Nick, so upwards I go. It’s dark up here, and relatively quiet; maybe there aren’t as many people up here as I had expected. I pass by a pair of vampires making out in the hallway, but they appear to be my only company.

              I’m getting bored, and considering heading back downstairs when I notice the one door left ajar. I tentatively push it open, only to find that there’s no room beyond it. Instead, the door opens onto a balcony that wraps around the back of the house. I step outside, shivering a little as a late summer breeze crashes against me. Autumn is just around the corner. If New York City hadn’t been expunged of all its life, I’d be in school already, taking classes I don’t care about to earn a degree that means nothing to me. It was a simpler life. But was it a preferable life? I’ll take adventure over monotony any day, but this is not what I had in mind.

              A short strain of musical laughter erupts from below, and I look down at the massive backyard. At first, I don’t see anyone, but before long, Amy’s slender figure darts into view, running barefoot through the grass with Nick in tow. She’s leading him into the woods, for God knows what. I watch them for a moment, then look away, relieved that I won’t have to hear them doing whatever it is they plan to do in a nearby bedroom.