Page 126 of Magic of the Damned

“That’s weird. Did Gloria notice it?” Gloria was my mother’s friend who watched me when I wasn’t at my grandparents.

“No, I thought she’d be the first. She was so attentive to you all.” My mother faded into grave nostalgia about Gloria, a woman she’d befriended in the salon. They’d become fast friends and she’d watched me and Forest.

“She was so fascinated by you two. Absolutely adored your curious natures.” My mother offered me a tight smile. The many stories of my childhood showed that my parents often saw that curiosity as a blessing and a curse. My mother’s reminiscing eclipsed into sadness. Gloria had moved away in my teens. They stayed in touch initially but eventually their daily conversations where she’d call to chat with my mother and wouldn’t get off the phone until she’d spoken to us faded. She’d always seemed just as invested in our lives as our parents were. When the calls stopped, my mother wasn’t the only one who felt her absence.

Now, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to Gloria’s absence.

“Have you attempted to get in contact with her?” Forest asked. I was grateful that I wasn’t the only person asking questions.

“She no longer has the same number. I searched for her on Facebook and Instagram, hoping to reconnect, but no luck.”

Hearing the sorrow in my mother’s voice, I changed the subject, but the nagging feeling that Gloria’s presence in our life wasn’t coincidental remained.

“So, Forest, what’s your new adventure?” my father asked, swooping in to change the subject and lift my mother’s mood. Or at least redirect her because she quickly switched gears to mother mode. Forest grumbled a curse under his breath. He endured the interrogation by keeping his mouth full to avoid answering their questions, winking at me when a different set of questions were cast at me when he wasn’t able to answer.

When my father left the table to get dessert, Forest scrolled through his phone while sipping from his wine glass.

“Werewolves are real? What the fuck?” he sputtered, putting his glass down. More curses of disbelief came as he continued to scroll.

Turning his phone, he showed me what was trending on Twitter. Variations of the hashtag and a video of a man clearly changing from an animal to a wolf. Knowledge of the supernatural world wouldn’t come in with a whimper but rather a bang. And it had.

Taking out my phone, I scoured my social media account to find variations of hashtags, comments, and posts that werewolves were real. Magic is real was also trending, but that wasn’t the first time for that, and when it did trend, it never had anything to do with actual magic. Usually it was a publicity stunt. Except this time, it was about magic. There was a video of two magic wielders fighting in the streets. Another person’s lithe graceful movements identifying him as a vampire had taken down one of the witches with a strike, knocking them to their butt then feeding from them.

My breathing came at short inefficient clips before my mother moved closer to see what we were looking at. Just as we were trying to show her, our phones went blank. For several minutes, they cycled through restarting. I didn’t share Forest’s frustration and was thankful for the manipulating work of techno witches. I hoped this was damage control and not a big reveal.

Forest’s phone restarted first and he was frantically scrolling again. Blinking several times. “What the—?” he blew out, flustered. “I know I saw it. You saw it, right?” he asked, turning to me for confirmation. My mother looked at our wine glasses, relieved us of them, and returned to the table with a cloying smile and water.

The rigid creases deepened each time Forest looked at his phone. It served as a reminder of the disconcerting reality of techno magic. It hurt that I couldn’t do anything to soothe his anxiety and doubt. His fingers moved quickly over the keyboard. I suspected he was contacting others for confirmation they’d seen it, too. Tomorrow would be filled with speculations, conspiracy theories, and gaslighting as supernaturals initiated their campaign to clean up the mishap.

To distract my brother, I asked about his new endeavor and updates about his life, and we scheduled a date for dinner the following month. That sent a pang through me. I was setting up a normal event when my life was so far from it. There was a very real chance that this may be my last meal with them.

The evening ended with me satisfied that my family had no connection to the supernatural world, and my parents satisfied with my brother’s dallying with becoming a web designer. My thoughts remained with Gloria, recounting her interest in me, which I’d attributed to her being my mother’s friend, not that she might be responsible for making me a vessel for Dark Caster magic. Was she a Dark Caster herself, or during the times I was in her care simply exposed me to one?

I had so many questions and wasn’t sure where to get the answers.

But I needed them.

As we said our goodbyes, I clung to my family tighter as they made gallant efforts not to look at me suspiciously.

Each step toward the SUV felt like I was states away.

I didn’t care what I needed to do; this would not be my last time seeing my family.

CHAPTER 19

“Be safe, honey, and tell your friend…” my mother called out from the door, letting the latter draw out as she waited for a name so she could start her investigative process.

When I responded with a coy smile only, she returned it with a smirk of annoyance.

Zareb brushed against my leg, letting his presence be known. I opened the door and fumbled with placing my leftovers in the back seat to give him time to jump in.

Once we were at the end of the block, Zareb revealed himself, hopped into the back seat, and helped himself to my food.

“Rude! How did you know that was for you?”

Sharing the arrogance and air of self-entitlement of his owners, he looked me up and down, donned his cloak, and noisily returned to eating. Nothing could convince me it wasn’t a taunt.

A turbulent wind hit the SUV so hard, I struggled to keep it centered on the street. The car’s steer assist attempted to right the SUV, but it spun out of control and my only option was to bring the car to a stop in front of the nature preserve. Glowing eyes peered from the thicket of trees and advanced toward me. I expected animal, not Emory—the dhole, in human form—swiftly moving toward me with another person next to him.

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