I believed her. I stood up, held up my little finger. “Pinkie-promise. And he’d yell at me too, so our secret is safe.”
She didn’t need to get ready. She was eternally ready. Always glamorous, a stunning piece of perfection. Aside from her personality, which could do with an upgrade. And a few emotions other than sarcasm and bitterness might be handy. I seriously wanted to wash out all the glue she used to keep her hair pinned so neatly behind her ears and mess it up.
I went to the kitchen and grabbed a couple of vodka cans from the fridge. She was waiting by the door when I emerged. I threw one to her. She caught it effortlessly in one hand.
“You have to drive. I may already be slightly under the influence.”
“Fragiles, two drinks and you’re useless.” Her face held a minuscule amount of pleasure.
“Is that a smile I see on your lips, Monique? Did they just curve upwards, who knew they could even do that?” I teased.
“Shut up, Amy, or you will see them curve around your neck.” She spun and glided out the door, disappearing into the dark.
I pulled the door shut behind me, the cool night air hit my face with a snap. A thick mist obscured the landscape and settled above head height. The tips of the trees looked like they floated on a frothing, endless ocean. Monique had stopped and was scanning the landscape. On full alert.
“You wish you could take a nibble.”
She twisted back and threw me her best cold stare. If it was meant to scare me it had the opposite effect. I giggled. We movedthrough the fog like apparitions. Well, Monique did, I was a little more heavy footed, poltergeist style, in comparison.
We drove down the drive. The fog was no thinner in the gully, it hovered over the road like a thick, gray carpet. It was so thick the light of the headlight couldn’t penetrate more than a few metres in front. But Monique seemed to have no trouble navigating it. Her sleek boned fingers rested casually against the wheel. On her mid finger she wore a large ring with an expensive looking blue gem. She drove fast, but competently.
“Does that ring have any powers?” I asked.
She gave me a weird, interested look and glanced at my ringless finger. I realized she knew nothing about my ring. I wondered if I’d made a mistake by telling her. Karson trusted her enough to stay with me, so I figured I should too.
“No, it was a present from an old friend.”
“Boyfriend?”
She didn’t answer. From behind headlights loomed in the distance, falling across the interior of our car and casting light across Monique’s features. I thought I saw a strange shaft in her eyes, like an icy beacon. It was disturbing. I stared at her, perplexed and unnerved. We rounded a corner, the beams faded behind the hill, darkness filled the car once again, and the pinpricks in her eyes were gone.
“Didn’t your mother teach you it’s rude to stare,” she clipped.
“Just trying to work out how much glue you use to keep your curls tamed,” I answered casually. I looked out the side window. Smothered by fog, the trees, still recovering from the fire, looked skeletal and sickly, grim as a graveyard of ghosts. A chill rooted itself to my neck. I fingered it abstractly and glanced back. “You know your hair would look stunning if you let it loose.”
“Thank you for your advice but, given your hair always looks like you just climbed out of bed, you will understand if I ignore it.”
“Didn’t you know messy bed hair is in?”
We hit a straight patch of road and the car behind had gained significantly on us, once again the beams managed to penetrate the car’s interior. Apprehensively, I glanced across at Monique but there was no sign of the unpleasant chill I thought I’d seen before. I convinced myself I must’ve imagined it.
As we came into the next straight the car behind revved at full throttle, sounding like the engine was about to blow, pulled to the side, and flew past. It was too dark to see in, but it was a small, old, white sedan, clearly in a rush to get somewhere. The car swerved in and sped off in front, dissolving into the murky darkness as if the night itself had swallowed it whole.
There was an awkward silence for some time before I spoke again to break the tension.
“Do you like being what you are?”
“Are you trying to bond here? If so, don’t speak. I’m not bonding with a fucking witch.”
“Fair enough, I’m a nice witch, though, on the scale of witches. I’d be like your Tabitha from Bewitched version. You look like you could do with a friend or two, so you know, if you want to talk, we’re sitting here anyway.”
“You handed Ethan a business card to get someone killed, I’m quite certain that upgrades you to a little more Wicked Witch of the West.” She shot me a firm, accusatory, look.
My throat tightened. I’d sent the proverbial telegram to elicit his demise, there was no denying it. But I consoled myself, the Bone Crushers didn’t have to act on it. It would be at their discretion, that the lie I told myself.
“You’re a Wizard of Oz fan. Wow, who knew. I would have picked you to be more of a Silence of the Lambs type of chick.”
She sighed. “How the fuck Karson puts up with you I have no clue.”
