“I…I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I started to say Dimitri, but it doesn’t sound a lick like Dean.
“Mmmkay. Listen, you know I’m here for you, right? Whatever you need, I’ll be there.”
I freeze, running over our conversation. “Uh, yeah?”
“So whatever you’re planning, just talk it through with me first, okay?”
“Perce, I’m not going to do anything reckless. No dark magic or running off into the woods to find bigfoot. I promise. I can’t stop searching for Lark, though. I’ve put it off long enough, and I have a feeling it’s not going to be easy or pretty.”
“Are you sure she even wants to be found?” she whispers as if saying it too loudly will invite the ghouls in.
“She wouldn’t have just left. It’s not like she went up in a puff of smoke, Percy. You know her well enough to figure that out. We’ve exhausted all our other options. I can’t keep waiting for her to show up. I know I probably should, but?—”
“No, I get it. I’d want to know what happened, too. Not that I have siblings so I can’t really relate. I can’t imagine, though. Not fully, obviously. But?—”
“I get it, Percy. Just know I’m not going to go off the rails. Even if it does run in the family. So, clubbing. What time should I be at your house?”
She huffs. “Fine. I’ll take you clubbing. But if you meet someone and decide to go home with them, I’m dragging your ass out of there so damn fast. We’re not fucking randos tonight. It’s just not in the cards.”
I power walk to my bedroom, then stop. “Wait, the actual cards or the turn of phrase?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?”
She hangs up before I can call her out for perpetually being online. Half the time she’s speaking in memes I haven’t seen. I haven’t exactly had room in my head for anything other than keeping myself afloat. I resist the urge to check my bank account. There’s enough in there for me to take a couple days off.
At least I haven’t had any other clients like Jeremiah. With what I threatened him with, maybe he told his friends. A cautionary tale or whatever. The weird witch will wither your willy. I could get that printed on a business card—hand them out at the grocery store. I’m sure I’d get a few scorned exes that way.
I flip through all the clothes in my closet five times before giving up. Calling Percy and admitting I don’t have anything to wear isn’t an option. She’d lend me whatever I need. Except she’s a lot shorter than me. A dress to her knees would barely cover my hooha. Plus, her hips aren’t as big as mine. Nor are her boobs. She’d never be able to wear it again.
Which is why I’m standing outside my sister’s bedroom door. The knob heats under my palm the longer I stand here. I told myself I wouldn’t go in here—not to raid her closet or search for clues. I wanted to figure it out without invading her space. She was always protective of her peace. I suppose it didn’t help we were forced to share a room when we were growing up. She just wanted a place that was entirely hers.And then I moved into her house and used all her things. The least I could do was vow to stay away from her bedroom.
Yet here I am, breaking that promise. I don’t have to go through her things. If she was into the dark side of magic, she’d take pains to hide it.
I turn the knob and swing the door open. “Or not. What the fuck did you do, Lark?”
Black. Every single surface is black. From the walls to the ceiling to the bedspread—complete darkness. Even the lightfrom the hallway doesn’t penetrate the deep void she’s created. I flip the switch and yelp, jumping back.
“What in the holy goddess did you do?”
Somehow she’s magicked her room to become a kaleidoscope of color. Gone is the blackness, replaced with something I can’t begin to explain. The room cycles through each color—blood red, forest green, sky blue. The bulb above her bed loops faster, adding more and more hues. Plum to gold to magenta permeates everything. I shut my eyes when my stomach rolls and nausea bubbles up my throat.
When I peek at it again, the color has settled on the exact shade as my hair. It’s a lot more welcoming than the desolate gothic void from before. I hurry to her closet and rifle through the dresses. I pick a black one at random and yank it from the hanger. The irony isn’t lost on me, but my hair wouldn’t go with half the pieces in here.
I rush from the room, slamming the door behind me as my heart hammers in my chest. I’ll deal withthatconundrum later. Right now, I need to forget I’m a witch for a few hours.
The last thing I want to be doing is paying a visit to Providence. Yet here I am, standing in front of her while she plays with a ball of yarn. I’m sure it’s something very important. I don’t fucking care. I have better things to do than sit around waiting for her to acknowledge me. Especially since she’s the one who brought me here in the first place.
“Magic’s a fickle thing, isn’t she?” Providence murmurs.
“Never really thought of magic as a woman.”
She smirks, her silver eyes finding mine. “Whatever else would she be?”
I roll my eyes. “Fine. Magic’s a woman. Karma’s a woman. Fate’s a woman.”
She nods her head as if I’m finally understanding. “All the best things in life are women, don’t you agree?”
“If I disagree, are you going to fill my veins with vinegar like you did three decades ago?” I ask with a raised eyebrow, and she shrugs.
