Vail stepped outside into the gloomy rainy morning. The sun was shaded by large dark storm clouds. She wore a long coat and held a black umbrella above her head.
“You’ll be all right?” I asked her, raising my eyebrows.
“Yes. The sun has barely risen, and it’s raining. So, I can be in the car for a while—unless the clouds part.” Her voice held a determined edge, but I could sense the worry beneath it.
“Well, let’s hope that doesn’t happen.” We slid into her car, its windows blacked out with a UV shield. I couldn’t figure out if it was window tinting or her magic that made it work. Knowing Vail, I figured she’d tried every spell under the moon to make it possible for her to drive during the day as a Vampire.
My fingers wandered up to my neck, playing with my mom’s necklace as she drove through the rain-soaked streets.
I glanced over at Vail and noticed the weight of worry etched across her face. Her eyebrows knit together, and her full lips formed a thin line as she drove.
It wasn’t easy to admit, but the truth lingered beneath the surface. I still cared about her, perhaps even more than I cared about myself at times. Her presence evoked a sense of responsibility and connection that went beyond the ordinary. There had been a time when that connection was everything, when it consumed us both. Vail, with her grace and strength, was better than me in every possible way. Despite the considerable time that had passed since we last met, she was stillwho I considered my closest friend, and the concern for her well-being pulled at my heartstrings.
In a playful attempt to lighten the heaviness in the air, I reached over and poked her forehead. “Don’t scrunch your face. You’ll get wrinkles.”
A smirk crossed her lips. “I’m a Vampire. I don’t get wrinkles.”
I chuckled, countering, “You’re only one hundred and thirty-eight years old. Trust me, I’ve seen Vampires with wrinkles.”
“Well, it’s a good thing that I’m also a witch, isn’t it? We can be wrinkle-free until we hit five hundred,” she replied, her smile momentarily pushing aside the shadows of her worries.
“Then what happens when we’re five hundred?” I asked.
“We die in a fiery Vampire orgy, of course.” She teased with a glint in her eyes.
“Ah, yes, of course,” I laughed as she parked in front of the bar.
We got out and walked along the side to the back alley. I reached out and tried to open the back door. It was locked.
“Hold out your hands,” Vail instructed, and I held my hands out in front of me.
“No, like this,” she corrected me, gently opening my hands flat, palms up toward the sky.
“Are you going to cut me?” I asked, skeptical. She gave me a look before placing her purse on my open palms, using them as an impromptu table.
“Vail, you could have asked me to hold your purse,” I remarked.
“You’re being annoying,” she retorted, rummaging through her purse. Amidst various items, she took out a crystal and approached the locked door. Tracing a line around thedoor frame with the crystal, she muttered incantations under her breath.
Putting the crystal in her pocket, she pushed the door. It opened, and she almost skipped inside, the pride evident on her face. I had witnessed Vail perform magic countless times throughout our lives, yet each time left me impressed.
We flicked on the bar’s lights, flooding the space with a harsh, unnatural brightness, and closed the door behind us. The once-familiar atmosphere now felt alien and sterile with the absence of people. Unease swept over me as I hesitated to look where the residue of spilled drinks and dirt lingered.
Vail took her purse back from me and produced an old napkin, placing it on the table as she initiated her tracking spell.
“You’re gross,” I remarked, eyeing the napkin. “I hope you don’t have any of my napkins in there.”
“No, I have your hair,” she replied matter-of-factly, resuming her incantations. I cringed, not wanting to know when she had taken a strand of my hair.
When Vail finished her spell, a vibrant purple butterfly emerged from her purse, fluttering around the bar. It left behind a swirling trail of purple, marking its path as it flew around from the booth where we were sitting, to the bathroom, and then back out toward the alleyway door.
“See, just like Sam said. George left through the back door of the alley,” I told Vail.
However, her expression was dissatisfied with the results as she followed the butterfly out back. We opened the back door, and before we could fully step outside, the screeching of tires reached our ears, and we saw Connor’s white van turning the corner into the alley.
I instinctively pulled Vail back into the bar and closed the door. “Fuck, we have visitors,” I muttered and looked around.
The door was on a brick wall with no windows for us to look through. Vail quickly went over to a brick, placing her hand on it and muttered a spell under her breath. She removed her hand, and where her fingers were sprawled, the brick became translucent. A portal for us to view the outside.
