It also happens to be my last night as one of his Devoted.
Tonight’s the night I’ll make my escape.
AFTER WHAT FEELS LIKEhours, the Herald brings the Positivity Circle to an end and we all clap and beam at each other like we’ve been lobotomized.
“Saint, the Herald wants you to go to his dressing room,” Gerry murmurs in my ear. “And if you see Kimber while you’re backstage, can you tell her the Herald said only skim milk in his coffee?”
I nod and try to stretch my face into another smile, but I’m not sure how well I pull it off. “Sure thing.”
Sure thing, I’ll tell ‘Kimber’ his passive aggressive little message.
Everyone thinks the Herald is my father, since that’s how he’s always presented our relationship. He’ll blab on about Saint and how powerful his darling Saint’s influence is in making people feel special. I don’t know if he does it to make me feel included, or to take me down with him when he inevitably gets done for fraud or for unsanctioned magic use.
But, weirdly enough, no one knows Kimber is my mom. That was something he encouraged about a year after we first moved in with him. He told her she should cut the ties to her old life so that she could then flourish in her new one.
So that’s what she did. Despite her ties being very much still around and despite me being very much still a minor at the time.
Heading backstage, I feel my gut churning. I’ve been too busy and stressed out to eat a lot today and now it’s kicking me in the ass. I don’t know what the Herald wants to see me about. He doesn’t usually like to see anyone before an Awakening like this. He needs time to ‘get into the zone’ and ‘connect with The Path’.
There’s no way he knows what I’m planning. I’ve been careful. It’s taken me three insanely long years to gather enough cash to buy a bus ticket out of here and to afford a couple months’ rent in a shithole that doesn’t require references or guarantors.
I’ve been doing odd jobs on the side for years now. Fixing phones and other busted devices for the Devoted whenever they need it. All on the down-low. That cash is burning a hole in my pocket right now, and I have to fight the urge to check it’s still there.
I stride through the warren of corridors backstage and try to stay calm. When I reach his dressing room, I tap the door, only to hear a guttural groan from the other side. I’m about to shove the door open when I hear an answering very loud, very female moan.
Oh fuck. No wonder he needs to ‘get in the zone’ in private.
Thankfully, I spot Kimber tottering down the corridor toward me in too high heels, so at least I didn’t just accidentally eavesdrop on my mother fucking the Herald.
A small part of me pities her, but the rest of me is made up of bile and spite. This is the life she chose for us. Hawking out her daughter’s powers for a comfortable lifestyle that involves turning a blind eye to what a sleazy prick the Herald is.
I head toward her and relay the message about the milk with zero emotion. She freezes in place, glancing at the mug in her hand and then spins on her heel without a word and heads off in the direction she came from.
Nice to see you too, mother.
Taking a deep, bracing breath, I wait another minute or two and knock on the door to the Herald’s dressing room, hoping like hell they’re done.
“Come,” he calls, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes.
Thankfully, both he and Clara are dressed, although her cheeks are slightly flushed, and she has one of her buttons done up wrong. The Herald is sitting in a chair while she powders his face.
“Ah, Saint, there you are,” he says. His tone has my skin crawling and I know it’ll be a challenge to muster even a bland smile, so I keep my face as blank as possible.
“Come here, darling.” He watches me in the mirror until I step closer and his smile widens. “It’s a big night for us all, my darling Saint. This is where it all begins.”
I nod jerkily. “I, er, need to do a last check of your mic,” I tell him.
His eyes dart momentarily to Clara—no doubt checking that she isn’t questioning why I might need to inspect his microphone right before the Awakening. She’s busy humming under her breath as she tucks some tissue into his collar.
“Of course. We don’t want to deafen everyone, do we?” His smile is wide and fake as anything, but I just nod again.
I grab the mic and take a few steps back. What I’d really like is to do this somewhere out of sight, but I have a feeling that’s not going to fly. He’s in a mood tonight and he clearly wants to engage with me.
I fiddle with the mic, acting like I’m testing out the sound levels when actually I’m imbibing a bit of extra magic. Enough so that it should send everyone into a slightly dazed, catatonicstate about twenty minutes into the Awakening. They should be so high and happy, they won’t notice when I slip out the door.
My fingers are shaking slightly as I hand it back to him and he seems to take that as nerves for how tonight’s going to go. He clasps my fingers in his hand and squeezes tightly, his eyes meeting mine in silent warning.
“This is what we’ve been working for, Saint. Let’s enjoy it, eh, darling?”
