I clap my hands together, trying to pop that thought bubble. “That would be great,” I respond. “Um … can I ask, how are you so sure I’m a witch? You mentioned you wanted to discuss it, just us.”
Valen stares at me for a long moment in that special way that he does. It’s not creepy, just contemplative like he’s taking everything in. I’m sure after being trapped for years on end, he likes to appreciate the outside world.
“I see auras. Every being, paranormal or not, has a colored aura around them, and yours is quite potent,” he explains easily, like we’re talking about the weather and not supernatural powers. “Each species has a color unique to them, and bloodlines can have a specific hue from there. Yours is of the witch variety.”
“What does it look like?” I ask, intrigued by this new development. I hold my arms out in front of me and squint like maybe if I look a certain way I’ll see the aura too.
Valen seems the type to only offer up information when needed. God only knows what powers and knowledge he might have, so if I have to pester him to get information, then so be it.
“A vivid purple that sparkles.” Valen looksoff into the distance like he’s remembering something. It must be unpleasant, because he shivers.
“Is it ugly?” I question at his reaction.
“Quite the opposite.” Valen’s brown eyes lock on to mine once more. “It’s one of the most beautiful auras I’ve seen.” The intensity in his stare is electrifying.
“Ah.” I shift in my seat, but it only makes my thighs rub together, sending a heated zing to my core. “Why did you shiver, then?” I tread carefully because I don’t want to offend him, but I can’t resist trying to make headway in our friendship.
“I was simply remembering when I last saw a purple aura. It was when I was locked up. The one who cursed me to my wretched captor was your ancestor,” he says with annoyance and disgust.
Well, shit.
CHAPTER 7
VALEN
The smellof old books and the crisp fluttering of pages turning calms me. Prior to my imprisonment, I thoroughly enjoyed reading. It’s nice to be in a familiar space amongst the unfamiliar world I am now in.
I’ve made a quiet corner in the library my own. There’s so much to learn about this place. Edith from the front desk even gave me a small plant to keep here, claiming that it would liven up the space. Humans are funny.
Stroking a finger down the cover of my last read, I think of the task at hand. Ava used something called a database at her workplace to source the last names of her biological parents. From there I’ve tried to research what I can through books regarding witchcraft. Most of it seems to be glorified lies and gimmicks created by humans, but I’ve found a few dated prints that are accurate.
While I’ve been around a while, that doesn’t mean I’veconcerned myself with other supernatural matters. Truthfully, I knew little about the witch who cursed me aside from her identical aura to Ava’s. Witches in general keep to themselves in fear of being extorted by other species. There’s a misconception that witches and warlocks are some sort of genies who grant wishes, but their magic doesn’t work that way.
Needing a change of scenery, I decide to head outside and stroll around the city. My long legs unfold from beneath me and I tilt my neck from side to side to loosen my muscles.
My footsteps echo as I head to the front of the library. Edith sits behind the front desk with a book of her own, and I nod farewell when she sends a small smile my way.
The crisp air dances along my skin when I push the heavy front doors open. Leaves swirl in front of me, and I’m met with the hustle and bustle of Chicago. For a second, I simply stand and observe the expanse of the city before me. A humming noise catches my attention, and I watch, enraptured, as a man atop a funny-looking car zooms by. I’m not sure car is the correct word for it, considering it’s open.
His jacket, ruffled by the wind, flows behind him, and a big, shiny hat covers his whole head. It’s much faster than a normal car, and I find myself wanting to experience a ride. A woman is positioned behind him with her arms wrapped around his midsection. How interesting. It’s almost like a modern-day horse.
Without prompting, my mind flashes to an image of me driving this machine with Ava sitting behind in the same way. Her delicate arms would be wrapped around my torso, chin resting on my shoulder, and her beautiful pink hair flowing around her.
I shake my head to dispel the thought and start walking. I wander aimlessly, observing the humans around me and how they communicate—usually rudely.
The sheer number of people I watch brings on a headache. It’s also slightly panic inducing. Auras in a space this vast can wear on my body, and this has been one of my longest stretches out in public with so many humans. It’s why I prefer to stargaze from the roof. I get to feel the open air and watch them twinkle without the head pain.
In the shadow of twilight, I head home. I almost head up via the balcony but remember Ava’s scolding when I frightened her. She’s like a petite bird, both curious and flighty.
The elevator dings as I ascend, and I fight to stay calm in the small space. I have been trying to condition myself to feel more comfortable with the odd contraption. Finally making it to the floor, I silently move down the hall and knock on our door because I forgot the key Ava always tells me to take. Before long, she opens the door, looking positively radiant.
Long, wavy hair falls to her waist, and her pink dress matches it perfectly. Floral boots adorn her feet, and a touch of the stuff she told me is called makeup graces her skin and eyes.
“Oh, Valen, how are you?” Ava tilts her head in question and holds the door open so I can walk by. Her floral scent fills my nose, and I feel my eyes flutter closed at the tempting smell.
“Good,” I reply softly.
Right then, a particularly harsh pain strikes my skull, and I can’t hide my wince. Rubbing my head, I wish away the sting.
