Page 10 of Corrupt Shadows

I turn to look at my sweet, all-black furbaby through the glass. I smile, watching my little fruit bat snacking on berries on the sofa, his favorite spot. He’s probably sulking because I’ve been working so much. I never thought when I found him injured that bats could have separation anxiety or need constant attention. I’ve considered taking him to work with me, but I don’t trust Brittany not to hit him with a spatula.

I stub my cigarette out on the railing and head inside. Rosa calls as I step onto the thick, cream carpet.

Her voice sings through the phone. “Morning! You’re up early.”

“It’s one p.m.,” I say deadpan.

Her laugh tinkers into my ear. “Right, early, for you. I was going to leave you a voicemail. Look, I need to cancel tonight.”

Thank God. Alone time with takeout and a movie on my day off is exactly what I need. “Oh, damn.”

“Don’t pretend to be sad. We both know you hate going out.”

“You’re not wrong.” I think about the party she planned on dragging me to tonight, and my chest tightens. “Are you not going anymore?”

I can feel her smiling through the phone. “I have a date.”

“Oh.” I smile. “Who’s the lucky guy? Will you be taking him back to show him your huge penis collection?”

“He’s not ready for that yet,” she says, followed by a laugh. “It’s with the guy from last night and I think he’s, like, religious.”

I freeze midstep, a lump forming in my throat.

“Evie? Hello?”

“Sorry.” I nearly choke. “I, uh… thought you said he was just passing through.”

“I must have made an impression.”

My lips part. I want to scream at her to be careful, to not go, but then I would have to divulge my darkest secrets, and I’m not ready yet. “I can come, if you want.”

“Girl, what? When have you ever,” she says, emphasizing, “wanted to come along and be a third wheel?”

The doorbell rings. Gomez gives me the stink eye from the sofa and curls his wings around himself. I scratch my head and blow out a heavy exhale. “I have to go. Someone’s at the door.”

I hang up before she can say anything else. Why the fuck is he staying? I’ve only ever seen that cross on Order members. Really, it’s just a stupid club within the church, filled with obnoxious, pious men from rich families. They only have one goal: to hunt and kill witches. They’ve mostly succeeded.

A memory of the night they came to my childhood home flashes into my mind a second time; my birth mother’s maniacal laughter rings through my head, a perfect echo of the fateful evening. Insanity had already claimed most of her mind, so when the Order arrived with holy water and crosses, she laughed. She took out four with her shadows, until she stopped. It was the first real time I’d seen her afraid. One of the cloaked men unsheathed a dagger. It seemed to absorb all light, reflecting nothing from the ebony blade. Around the handle, shadows danced, reminiscent of our magic, as if it had been forged by one of us. But that was impossible.

The doorbell sounds a second time, and I snap out of the memory, letting it fade like an old photograph.

My heart hammers, and I’m unsteady on my feet. I eye my pill bottle on the counter. Is it too soon for another? It’s been an hour, maybe two. That’s long enough to take another. It has to be, though the doctor won’t refill another prescription early. I’ll be forced to buy them from some college kid instead. Ten, sometimes fifteen a day is excessive, but the doctor can’t know why I have to take so many.

If I don’t, people could die. I can’t risk letting my magic out ever again.

I head for the door and peer through the hole. My brows knit together when I see a package instead of a person.

I don’t remember ordering anything, but I do have an obsession with online shopping, so it could be mine. I open the door and check the label. It’s addressed to my alias, Evie Haywood. I look left to right and don’t see anyone outside.

It’s massive. I tear open the box outside because there’s no fucking way I’m bringing it in not knowing what it is.

My stomach drops, and fear skitters down my spine. I examine the silver frame of the mirror first. The unmistakable markings of our family, roses and skulls, are engraved on the frame. I step back, my fingers trembling. “Nope.”

I cover the mirror back up and hurry back inside, hoping to the gods that someone steals the fucking thing.

***

My nightmare pulls me deeper, even though I am aware it’s only happening in my head. However, it’s unlike my other lucid dreams. I can’t control anything happening, only my own actions.

---