“For your first test, let’s see if you can take Datura in a fair fight,” Lantana. The sorcerer stops floating and walks into the circle with me.

“Seriously?”

“If you’re as adept at combat as you say,” Lantana says while sidling away, “you should be able to last a few seconds.”

I wasn’t objecting to dueling Datura, more that she’s so accepting now that she knows I’ve broken two important rules. But I don’t push my luck by pressing the topic. I focus on Datura who takes a fighting stance.

With no element of surprise, this might be a real fight. I defeated the Necromancer, who was powerful but was by no means a trained sorcerer. I have to imagine, that one who is extensively trained in combat magic would be a more well-rounded combatant; rather than relying on raw magical power.

I think about what Hollyhock would do. Get close, don’t relent, attack joints, then finish it.

Taking the fight into my hands, I immediately rush at him, activating the air booster ward on my back. With how low I’m moving at him, he’ll dodge and counter with a downward strike. I prepare my shield ward on my left arm.

As I thought, he sidesteps and tries to strike down with a magic blast. I summon my shield just in time. As his magic disperses over me, granting a moment’s cover, I turn on my heel and punch him in the gut.

My fist meets muscle, but compared to the giant abomination I fought, it’s like hitting a marshmallow. I must’ve hit him right, as he crumples forward. My elbow raises to meet his chin, straightening him out as my left fist hooks across his face.

He’ll try to get some space to prime a spell, so I don’t ease up. Everyone, Datura included, is probably confused as to why I’m not using magic. During the fight with the Necromancer, I observed Hollyhock and concluded that magicians don’t excel at close range. We like time and space to prepare complex spells, so as I assault him, I prime spells of my own.

He sidesteps my heel kick, but I twist and catch his jaw with my elbow again. Deciding he’s had enough, he sends a blast of telekinetic energy to the ground, drawing a cloud of dust to buy him some time. I decide to go up with my booster ward, watching him prime a spell, clear the dust, and lose sight of me. By the time he looks up, I already have my storm shot spell ready with a special modification I just thought up. I fire off two shots. He dispels what he has and gets a shield ready just in time to block the shots. The next three shots I suspend, so they go off as I force myself back to the ground. Datura has his shield up, blocking my shots, and doesn’t realize I’m standing in front of him with my last shot aimed at his face. By the time he does, Lantana calls the match.

“Seems she would’ve beaten you anyway,” she comments. Datura nods in agreement, rubbing his chin. Lantana claps him on the shoulder and he walks off.

“Sorry,” I say after him, feeling bad that I did all that to him. He nods again, groaning as he sits. A few of his friends laugh at him.

“You certainly fight like someone in love,” Lantana notes. “For a second I thought you were gonna tear right through him.”

I shrug. Truthfully, I wasn’t trying that hard. But I am desperate to prove myself, so I can get this initiative off the ground.

“With that skill, I can see you defeating a rogue magician. You’ve never received sorcerer training?”

“I wanted to be a sorcerer when I was younger, that was…sidetracked.”

She nods, recalling something.

“You think fast and cast faster, but what was with the punching and kicking?”

I explain that when Hollyhock and I fought the Necromancer together, I noticed that even powerful magicians flounder at close range. Since we usually fight one another at far ranges for our spells, we get flustered when someone’s in our faces.

Lantana gets her notebook out again. At this distance and angle, I could glance at it, but I let it be.

“And why did this non-magical person help you in a fight?”

“She…has an unusual occupation.” She jots down something quickly.

Are all these notes necessary?

Sensing my question, she claps the book closed.

“Good leaders should have good reports. And you never know what might become important later.” She puts the book in her pocket. “You’re already teaching me so much.”

By mentioning teaching, I think about Mentor Acacia again. I have a lot of ingredients in my cauldron right now.

“Still with me?” Lantana asks. I snap back to reality.

“Yes, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, you probably have a lot of stuff on your mind at the moment.: She looks around to her sorcerers. “I’ll give it to you directly; I can see the potential of bringing you on. You’ve experienced the outside world in a way none of us have, and you’ve gotten some useful stuff from it.”

“But?” I ask, knowing there’s more to this.

“But,” she continues, “I don’t want someone split between too many things. I need to know you can be depended on. Settle your affairs however you must, because I won’t have a divided member in my covey. You can have your human lady love on your heart, but I need your mind when it counts.”

“May I ask a question?” She nods. “Why are you, all of you,” I gesture to everyone in the circle, “being so casual about the fact that I broke one of our most important rules.”

They all laugh as if I prompted an inside joke. After a pause, Lantana answers,

“No one follows all rules all the time.” Her sorcerers nod at her wisdom. “‘Rules’ ‘laws’ ‘codes’ themselves aren’t my top concern; but the context that surrounds them. We all generally agree that murder is bad.”

I do my best to not change expressions at that.

“But we agree that self-defense is important. Stealing is wrong, but a hungry person has the right to do what it takes to survive. The law itself isn’t what matters, what matters is why we do it. So you ask why I don’t care about you leaving and exposing magic to nonmagic people; I think you were honoring your soul, I’ve known many people who want to see beyond our walls. Some became sorcerers.” Once again, she gestures to those around us. I’d almost forgotten we had an audience. “Others let that part of themselves wither and die. You refused to. In so doing, yeah, you broke some rules, but you had to for your very soul.”

She hasn’t known me for very long, and yet I’ve never felt so seen by someone this quickly.

“And I’m sure you didn’t expose magic to this person for a cheap trick.”

“She was bleeding out, I healed her wounds,” I admit.

“See?” She makes a box shape with her hands. “Context. Sounds like you haven’t broken our rules with malicious intent.” With that, she shrugs. “No harm, no foul, as they say. Now go handle your business. When that’s done, I’ll put you through your paces.”

She claps twice, and her sorcerers stop levitating, standing to attention. They begin some drills as I walk away.

Still no closer to deciding what to do about Mentor Acacia and whatever agenda she has, I know that this is the moment to choose.

Even though I acknowledge that, nothing solid forms in my mind as I get closer to her abode. It’s early, so no one else should be here, but I hear her talking with Nelumbo. She’s an intimidating woman to most, yet I walk into a gentle scene of her cleaning his hair with a pleasant-smelling oil. He sits on the ground, rubbing the head of a Farnook sitting next to him. Farnooks are fascinating creatures; they absorb genetic material through their skin at an early age, taking on the appearance of whatever they come into contact with. Easily confused with chimeras, which are born as a set blend of animals, these can take on a variety of looks.

This one in particular has the black and brown head of a Doberman, Red Hawk wings, and the sleek, powerful form of a jaguar. This all comes to meet, oddly enough, the tail of a rat. Nelumbo has named it Goucher. Most Farnooks are intelligent beings, understanding human speech, some can even speak. This one doesn’t but boasts a keen mind all the same.

They aren’t considered pets, but rather companions to magicians. I’ve always wanted one, but I fear I’d get too attached. They come and go as they please, and I’m recently realizing that I’m somewhat needy.

Mentor Acacia and Nelumbo both have serene looks on their faces. She glances at the sky.

“You’re early,” she notes. “I’m preoccupied at the moment.”

With no developed plan, I blurt out,

“I’m going to become a sorceress.”

Nelumbo and Goucher both seem to realize where this is going and decide they want no part in it.

“Uhh, I’m going to go do some druid stuff,” is the best excuse he can come up with. He rubs Goucher’s head and they walk off.

Mentor Acacia sighs deeply, wiping the oil off her hands. She leans on her thigh, looking me up and down, considering something. After a moment, she stands and walks over to me. With both her hands behind her back, she comes within a breath’s reach of me.

“Why would you want to do that?” She asks with an inscrutable expression.

“I confessed my crimes to the High Council, and proposed a new initiative to the sorcerers to better handle the threats we might face.”

“You told them about breaking our most important laws, and for this; they let you pitch an idea to them?” She asks, incredulous.

When she puts it like that, it does sound very ridiculous.

“I brought them proof that there are dangers outside our Arcaniums, and they saw merit in it.”

She stares, unblinking, at me. Her blood-red eyes browse through my mind for something.

“You didn’t tell them about the human,” she correctly guesses.

“I gave them the context they needed,” I supply, already implementing the wisdom shared with me. Perhaps my imagination gets the better of me, but I think a specter of an expression steals across her face.

I don’t dare try to read her mind, but I can’t say she’d extend me the same courtesy. We stare at each other for a long time. She exhales from her nose and steps to the side to look off in the distance somewhere.

“Since we’re on the subject, how come you didn’t tell the council members about me and Hollyhock?” I make it a point to say her name, so she knows she’s a person. Mentor Acacia sighs.

I assume that’s the only answer I’ll get from her at the moment.

“I restored her memory,” I admit. That brings her attention back to me. “She needed it back.”

Again, she walks over to me, with a scolding glare that could level mountains. She leans towards my face.

“What if she exposes us?” Despite my instincts, I match her gaze.

“She won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Saying ‘She’s an assassin, so she’s good at keeping secrets.’ doesn’t seem like the right move at the moment.

“She has her own secrets to keep.”

Mentor Acacia backs up with a condescending smirk.

“A pact of mutual destruction, the cornerstone of a thriving relationship,” she derides.

A flash of anger strikes me for a moment.

“It’s not fear that’ll keep her quiet about magic. I trust her.” My anger is held barely back by my teeth.

“Does she trust you?”

I almost fall for the trap.

This isn’t what I came to talk about. I tamp down my anger, take a breath, and focus.

“I didn’t come here to argue with you. Despite this…rift between us, I do respect you. You’ve taught me invaluable lessons, and I can’t disregard all that.”

Her tight expression softens just a bit. She wasn’t expecting that. It’s the truth. I can’t outright say I dislike her, I might not trust her right now, but I owe all my knowledge to her.

“I don’t want to end this with animosity. I think it’s too late to pretend this didn’t happen, but can we move on?”

Mentor Acacia puts her hands behind her back in thought.

While I’ve restored Hollyhock’s memories, and, potentially, secured a means of seeing her regularly; I still haven’t pieced together why the Necromancer was going to attack IronHenge, or why Mentor Acacia sought me out herself. Until I find out why, I can’t imagine her stopping her surveillance of me. It’s better to keep her close.

“So what’s the next ingenious thing you propose?” She asks with just a drop of sarcasm. I choose to ignore it.

“I’ve been your apprentice for many years, I’m not going to quit on that. If you find it acceptable, I’d like to continue learning from you.”

“Hmmm. I’d have to advance your lessons.”

Prestigious as she is, she can’t have the one student she accepted in years just drop out and become a sorceress out of nowhere.

“Whatever you deem best,” I reply.

“You’ll start working on more difficult cases, and you’ll create a rudimentary stock of elixirs and options for your…new cohorts. Might as well put your knowledge to its best use, become their resident healer.”

“I think they’ll already have a stock in place.”

Mentor Acacia raises an eyebrow at that.

Right, they won’t be as good as hers, and mine by extension.

“I’ll see it done.”

She sighs again. It’s not one of relief or annoyance, but a thickly veiled emotion that I can’t glean. She turns away from me, and I see her magical prosthetic making a tight fist.

She’s always had less control of it.

Whatever secrets she’s holding are still hers…for now.

I will bring them into the light soon enough.

🌿💀🌿

Kadupul and I lie prone on this searing rooftop, waiting for our target. Our treated jackets are heat absorbent, keeping our arms from frying on the gravel.

This heatwave refuses to go gently into that good night. The violence in Oleander City extends to nature itself. Reaching at least 95 degrees daily, more than a few people have died from heatstroke. We’re damn near close ourselves.

My phone is propped up in front of us with a map of the area, the car we’re tracking is getting closer and closer.

Being a spotter for Kadupul is conceivably the most useless activity someone could do; as I’m now convinced, she has some preternatural ability to make impossible shots. But it’s protocol to do so, and with how many jobs we’ve had lately, it’s better to overly cautious.

I sip from an insulated bottle, the cold water inside is a life-saving elixir on my lips. With not a cloud in the sky, I offer some water to Kadupul. A bead of sweat drips down her forehead, but she refuses.

Normally, she’s kinda a goofball, but on the job, on the hunt, she locks in. Our target is about two miles away still. The building we’re on overlooks a usually busy street. The temperature, being what it is, has only a few cars out.

The only sounds I hear are the cars below and what I suspect is my scalp frying. I sniff.

“You keep doing that, are you sick?” Kadupul suddenly asks.

“I do?”

“Yeah, you’ve been sniffing like every few minutes,” she points out.

“My bad, I didn’t notice.”

“So, are you sick?”

“No, I feel fine,” I reply.

“Hmm,” is what I get in response. We wait in silence for a while before Kadupul speaks up again, “Lemme ask you a serious question.”

“Sure,” I acknowledge.

“Are you and Hazel…together now?”

The question comes out of left field for me. I’m not entirely sure why she’d bring that up.

“It’s uhh….”

I can’t fully explain the depths of my conflicting feelings about Witch-Hazel without revealing magic is real.

“Complicated?” She supplies for me.

“Yeah, complicated.”

“Mmmm.”

Silence again.

Our target is a mile and a half away.

My mind drifts to Witch-Hazel and what we discovered about the Necromancer. Wanting to see their kid again, one last time.

“Do you ever speak with your parents?” I ask my own question out of the blue. Kadupul is in the rare minority among the Bay Leaves; having living family members. When I first heard about her parents, I was minutely envious. But then I remembered she was also here with us, not with them.

“Yeah, I got off the phone with them. We talked about the latest rugby match,” she replies, her voice thick with venomous sarcasm. It was a stupid question, so I let it be.

After a moment, she shakes her head.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be a bitch about that.”

I dismiss her apology with a wave.

“Nah, it was a dumbass question anyway.”

“It was, but still I ain’t had to do you like that.”

“It’s forgotten,” I assure her.

We both focus on the task as the target turns onto the main road. I grab my scope and noise-canceling earmuffs, and Kadupul loads the rifle. Looking around for the target, I spot the vehicle he’s in. A red sports car with spinning rims and purple underglow.

“I see the car.”

“Spotted,” she confirms.

There’s a woman in the passenger’s seat. I see her arm moving up and down.

“Looks like he’s getting a handjob,” I observe.

“Heh, not a bad way to go out.”

“He’s about to have a real heart-stopping climax,” I quip. Kadupul snickers. We wait until he’s clear of other cars.

“You have the shot?” I redundantly ask.

“I got it.” With a squeeze of her finger, the rifle releases a crack of thunder and less than a heartbeat later a man dies.

I watch as his corpse flops, landing on the steering wheel. The car swerves for a bit before stopping safely. The car behind it doesn’t stop fast enough, rear-ending it.

“Clean hit.”

“Always.”

I get up and grab my helmet to go down and confirm.

“Cover me?”

“You got it.”

An elevator ride down and a brisk jog has me where our target waits. He’s still there, with a sizable hole in his chest and a pretty lady screaming and freaking out.

“Shut up,” I command, as I push her to the side. Ignoring his member, I take his phone out of his pocket. Feeling not so great, I take his wallet and throw it at the woman. “There’s a couple thousand in there. Get out of here.”

Police and ambulance sirens call out as Kadupul pulls up with our getaway car. I hop in and she peels off.

When we’re well enough away, I take off the helmet, tossing it in the backseat. I look through the procured phone for our objective.

“He sent the video to ten other people,” I note. “I’m guessing the others in it are being dealt with.”

“If the client wants us to deal with these other people, they’ll have to pay Tamara extra,” Kadupul notes. “Tell her we got the job done.”

I text Tamara the update, and she just sends back a thumbs-up emoji, which is strange considering her renowned hatred of them. Deciding not to focus on that, I turn to Kadupul.

“Why’d you ask about Hazel?”

She sighs and we stop at a red light.

“I heard she came back for a bit, and you seem better than you’ve been. Might not know her very well, but I can tell she’s good for you. So I guess I was just…happy for you or whatever.”

Not really knowing what to say to that, I respond with,

“Happy for me?” Again, she sighs.

“See, this is why I can’t be nice to you. Why do you havta be like that?”

“I’m not being like anything,” I counter. “I’m just surprised you care, is all.” For the third time, she sighs.

“But anyway,” she disregards, “what’s with all this ‘it’s complicated’ shit?”

“It’s just complicated, okay?”

“Then simplify it, dumbass.”

I sense I’m not getting out of this conversation without an actual answer. The green light shines, but we don’t move.

“It’s just…look at what we do.”

“Keeping this city in check?”

“I meant more specifically the killing and robbing.”

She nods, understanding.

“And?”

Or maybe not.

“Our lives are not conventional.”

“Is she a ‘conventional’ woman?”

“No,” I admit.

“Then what’s the real problem?”

“I-”

Someone behind us honks their horn, and Kadupul simply raises a middle finger at them.

“Go on,” she says.

The existence of magic and the increasing plausibility of an afterlife being a secret is starting to impede my explanation.

“Shit could go sideways for us at any moment. I’d rather not break her heart if that happens,” I answer. Kadupul stares at me for a moment. The light has turned red again.

“That’s not the reason,” she says after a pause. My face twists in confusion at the comment.

“What?”

“Nah, that’s not it. You might’ve convinced yourself that’s it, but it’s not really.”

“How are you telling me what I’m really feeling?!” I challenge.

The car behind us holds down their horn.

“C’MON, YOU GOT US WAITING!” They shout.

“THEN YOU FUCKING WAIT!” Kadupul yells back. She turns back to me with a neutral expression. “Look, I can just tell, aight?”

She starts driving again, flipping another finger to the car behind us.

“You can just tell?” I repeat. She chuckles.

“You going deaf?”

“How can you ‘just tell’?”

“Bitch, people can die at any moment, especially in this city. That doesn’t stop anyone else from getting together.”

“We aren’t ‘anyone else’,” I point out.

She waves that thought away.

“Let’s say I accept that as your reason, which I don’t by the way, but let’s say I do.” She turns right and looks in the rearview mirror. “You say you don’t want to break her heart with your untimely death. Granted, it is a possibility. But what about your heart? Why do you have to be unhappy in the meantime?”

She shuts me up with that one. I don’t have a comeback, deflection, personal attack, or dumb joke. She sees I don’t have a response and focuses back on driving.

I sniff again.

After some time, she speaks up,

“I know I just gave you something to chew on, but it looks like we’re being followed.”

I take the safety off my gun.

✨🔮✨

Lantana wasn’t joking about putting me through the paces. Since it’s obvious I know more than just the basics of combat magic, she puts me in more sparring matches. I ably handle them at first, but she then puts them in pairs. These matches take more concentration; they already have experience working together, and have something to prove. I think back to how well Hollyhock and I worked together fighting the undead horde, and wish she was here with me.

Physically separating them works for a little bit, but together their skill outmatches mine. However, something in me refuses to accept defeat. My instincts take over, and it becomes clear I surpass them in raw power.

I surprise Lantana, and myself, by plowing through the third pair she sent. They’re exhausted, but I stand undefeated. Sweaty, not unscathed, but standing all the same. I know better than to let it go to my head, but it’s hard not to feel cocky when all these seasoned sorcerers lie at my feet.

Once my latest match ends, I look at my hands. Similarly to the fight with the Necromancer, I don’t feel stripped of energy. My body feels the strain, but I know I can still have energy to expend.

With a chorus of OOOH’s Lantana enters the ring. I enter a defensive stance. She narrows her eyes at me and I sense magic pooling in them. Experienced eyes scan me.

A tense few seconds inch away. Her eyebrows descend into a frown.

“That’s enough for today. I think you’ve proved your point.”

I, reluctantly, relax.

“I’m going to write up an itinerary for areas you need to improve on. We’ll work on those tomorrow.” She steps closer. “It’s clear you’re powerful. Raw, untempered, power can be dangerous as it is useful. I aim to help you hone it.”

Soon she’s close enough to me that I can see a minute expression on her face. She leans in so only I hear her ask,

“Are you okay? I’ve never seen someone burn through so much magic and stay standing long.”

I nod.

“I’m fine,” I admit. She believes me and backs away.

“Think you can use your witch skills to help them get to their feet?” She regards the others I defeated.

“Actually, I have a few things of my own to propose in that regard.”

🌿💀🌿

Our car finally stops tumbling around on the asphalt, and we end up upside down. The sound of six car doors opening comes from all around us. Footsteps approach. An ambush.

“These guys suck at planning,” Kadupul points out with a groan.

“Agreed,” I grumble as rage builds in me. The smart thing would’ve been to shoot the car after the crash to make sure we’re dead. Instead, they’re walking to us to meet a gruesome death, given how pissed off I am.

“Cover me?” Kadupul asks as she pulls a bit of glass from above her eyebrow and rips her airbag out.

“I gotcha,” I reply as someone walks closer to my side. I tense my body, checking to see if anything is broken. A sprain or two maybe, but I’ve been in worse car crashes.

I’m good.

Ignoring the pain I’m in, I undo my seatbelt and fall to the roof. I grab my gun and pull back the hammer. A pair of legs stop right outside. I pull the trigger and a bullet punches through the right leg. My would-be attacker falls to the ground. We lock eyes for a second, he didn’t think it was going to end this way. All the fear and pain rushing through him stops him from using the gun in his hand.

It doesn’t stop me.

My next shot goes between his eyes. Kadupul slams her door open, and I hear a body crash into it. I turn in time to see her grab her assailant who’s bent over the door and snap their neck. I roll out of my side. The others start to catch on and draw their weapons, but I already have mine ready. I put down three with four shots.

There’s no time to check if they’re dead, I vault over the car to get to Kadupul. I cover her with my torso. Shots ring out, but only two hit me. My jacket does its job, keeping the bullets out of my body.

Stolen novel; please report.

These guys suck at aiming.

Kadupul grabs the gun from her chiropractic victim and nods to me. I move out of the way, and she starts airing out this side. In no time flat, five fall to their deaths, and I get the remaining three.

With a momentary respite, I help her get out of the car. Her shoulder is dislocated, and without asking permission, I slam it back into place. She muffles a groan and nods with thanks.

Blood drips down her enraged face.

“Let’s get these motherfuckers.”

I reload my gun.

✨🔮✨

I take stock of the sorcerer's elixirs, tonics, potions, and various other brews. As Mentor Acacia suspected, they are subpar. Sorcerers get their supplies from whatever witches they want, but they are expected to be able to make rudimentary concoctions and perform healing spells on the fly.

Granted, the way they’ve been doing it is quick, but not nearly as effective or efficient as it can be. The sorcerers I defeated were delightfully surprised, as I tended to their wounds with greater speed and intensity than they’re used to.

I write down notes of everything they have in stock while composing a list of materials that I’ll need for better mixes.

“You’re really tearing apart our inventory, huh?” Datura says to me as I frown at a potion that’s yellowish-green when it should be yellowish-brown.

“Mentor Acacia taught me the caliber of the mix makes all the difference to the treatment of an ailment. I’m seeing a lot of stuff that needs improving.”

“I’m guessing that means we’re all having a lecture or two in our near future?”

I finish my list of everything that needs to change.

“Here,” I toss the comprehensive list to him.

🌿💀🌿

“Here,” I toss an ammo clip to Kadupul. She catches it without looking, loads, and lands two shots into our nearest attacker. I send hot lead through the back of a woman’s head and catch her gun before it hits the floor. Using her as a human shield, she takes three shots for me before I dispose of her and kill my would-be killers.

I shoot the gun out of the hand of the last one, and Kadupul grabs him by the throat. Her gun, still hot from the shots she fired, gets pressed into his mouth.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” I say to him.

✨🔮✨

“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” I say to Lantana. “Most of your inventory is adequate, at best. I can teach y’all how to make better ones.”

“’Y’all’?”

“I’ve picked up quite a few things in my time outside.”

“I see, well I can’t wait for what you have to teach us. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m quite fine, actually.” The minor cuts and bruises I got through the duels have already faded. Lantana takes note of this.

“Don’t overload yourself just yet,” she starts. “I still have to forge you into an effective sorcerer. Think you can handle it?”

“If I want to get my initiative off the ground, I don’t see any other option.”

“Then I’ll see you later, Hazel.” Lantana departs on that note. With my list of materials completed and inventory done, I find myself alone for the moment.

“Now what?”

🌿💀🌿

“Now what?” I ask as we walk, or stumble, really, away from our massacre. The adrenaline has worn off, so now we’re feeling all the pain we’re in. Kadupul hurt her hip at some point, and my torso is aching from all the blocked shots.

“Can’t believe all that happened over a case of mistaken identity,” she comments. “Motherfuckers get killed cuz they can’t tell the difference between two cars.” I want to point out that her antagonizing them at the red light probably didn’t help, but I decide it’s not worth it. “Call Tamara, let her know what’s up,” She finally comes back to my question.”

I pull my phone out of my pocket to see the screen smashed to hell.

“Fuck!”

“Great,” Kadupul replies. “I think my phone’s in the car.”

“We should get some distance from the car crash and several dead bodies,” I counter. “Someone heard those shots.”

“We can’t just leave my rifle and whatever else we got in there. That’ll be awkward to explain.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” I relent. “Stay here.”

“Like I’m gonna run off,” she mumbles as she slides down on a streetlight to sit. I hobble over to the overturned car and search the wreckage. As I look around, I keep an ear out for sirens but hear only the still-running engines of the other cars. I find Kadupul’s phone, miraculously unscathed, wedged between the rear seats.

“Found it! Wanna steal one of these cars?”

Kadupul gives me a thumbs-up. I search the nearest corpses for keys. When I finally find one, I go about getting the corresponding car and drive over to her. She has a blunt lit and gets in the car. I hand her phone over and peel off.

Kadupul calls Tamara to let her know what happened. I can almost hear her side of the conversation. Kadupul hangs up.

“She said to come back right away. Figures we did enough killing for today.”

I just nod. Kadupul stinks into her seat, inhaling more smoke before offering it to me. I decline.

“Sorry about your phone,” She says. “Digit’ll be able to transfer anything to a new one, though.”

I look at my phone that I threw on the dashboard. My passcode was the date and time I met the witch that changed my life. I try in vain not to think of Hazel; my heart aches despite my best efforts.

✨🔮✨

My heart aches as I think of the assassin; seeing a bouquet of flowers for which she is named on my walk home. The more I try not to let her consume my thoughts, the more Hollyhock seems to dominate them.

I attempt to steer my mind back to my goals, but then I realize she’s the motivating factor for them all.

Still, I endeavor to focus, I can’t let everything in my life revolve entirely around Hollyhock.

“Hazel!” The voice of Azalea calls out to me. I turn to see the wizard approaching. “I think I’m onto something!”

“Let’s hear it.”

🌿💀🌿

“Let’s hear it.”

Digit finishes up with Kadupul. Neither of us got any serious cuts. Bruises, and sprains aplenty, though. I struggle to get into a comfortable position with the ice pack on my back.

“You two gotta get benched. The bruises are nothing you couldn’t work through, but these sprains will get worse if you don’t rest.”

“But I have a basketball game later,” Kadupul chimes in. I can’t tell if she’s joking, as the painkillers have started to kick in. Either way, I laugh.

“Well, your team will have to do without you,” he says back, dryly. Ever since I told him about getting my memory back, the light in his eyes has returned. I’m just he still doesn’t want to press me about getting a CT scan. “Holly, I’ll transfer your data to a new phone and get it to you in a couple hours. You two rest for now, and I’ll take you home later.”

“Aye aye, Doc,” Kadupul says as she takes out another spliff.

Seriously, how many does she roll?

Digit snatches it out of her hand.

“No smoking in here. The painkillers will be enough.”

“Wasn’t for the pain but okay.” She holds her palm out. Digit gives her a stern look. She pouts and puts on puppy eyes. “I promise.” Digit rolls his eyes and tosses it to her. Keeping her word, she puts it away. Our busy quartermaster/doctor walks away.

After being in the burning heat for hours, sitting on three ice packs is relaxing. My muscles become uncoiled and sluggish as the medicine circulates through my system.

“Did you come up with an answer?”

“Huh?”

“For my question. Why do you have to be unhappy while we’re still kicking?”

“Ehh,” is all I offer in response, feigning succumbing to the drugs.

“Well, you got some time to think about it. I’d rattle that around in the old dome for a while.” Kadupul settles more into her cot and almost immediately falls asleep.

Of course, I already have an answer to her question. I thought about it as we drove back here.

Of course, I know the answer.

I sniff again.

✨🔮✨

Azalea takes me to her home, though a library would be a more apt description. I can’t tell what color the walls are with the amount of tomes and scrolls piled up all over the place. A footpath has been made in the places between the piles. She directs me to a table where there’s only one chair. Azalea realizes this only now, and looks around for something else.

“I uhh, don’t entertain a lot of guests,” she says with a chuckle. She slides a stack of books over for me to sit on. “So, back to my theory of the best time to slip out would be during a time of chaos. I started looking into the Mau Mau uprising.”

She turns to a page in a history book.

“During this time when the Gikuyu began organizing a resistance movement, magicians from IronHenge and Utoto Mkubwa became involved.”

Utoto Mkubwa, the Arcanium of Africa, is hidden behind the Mosi-oa-Tunya; the largest waterfall in existence. The magicians there are a touch more open with non-magical people, helping in minor ways without revealing themselves.

“There were magicians on both sides of the conflict, but that’s not what we’re focusing on. But rather the amount of magicians involved.” She produces a sheet from somewhere. “According to this, some hundred magicians, mostly sorcerers, got involved.”

“That’s a lot,” I remark, given the low population of magicians in the world at that time.

“Exactly, so what better time to try and get away with something; when the sorcerers are spread so thin?” Azalea searches for something else for a moment, then finds it. “Birth records, and…” more searching “sorcerer reports.”

She begins to explain, but I already know the answer. I was just hoping I was wrong.

“This was not easy to come by, and even harder to come across one that wasn’t magically redacted. I only got a couple of names out of my cross-referencing. But from what I surmise, a couple had a child a few years before the Mau Mau Uprising. They didn’t want to give up on raising their child, however.” She grabs another paper and hands it to me.

Glancing at it, it’s an appeal to speak with the High Council.

“They tried, and failed, to amend the law. Instead of complying, they fled. There’s no mention of how or exactly when they left IronHenge. All I’ve managed to scrounge up is this heavily redacted sorcerer report that says ‘a highly powerful magician has left without permission’. It doesn’t say by name or reason, but it matches up with the timeline of the failed appeal. They didn’t get it, so they had to run.”

A sinking feeling grips my entire body, I know how this ends.

“I went through even more redacted reports, powerful wards protected the information within, but then I found this one.”

She holds up a report that hurts to look at. The wards protecting it give a swirling, nauseating effect if you glance at the secretive text. Looking at it more makes the letters dance around on the paper.

“It’s the final report of the incident, ‘an altercation broke out between the fugitive magicians after refusing to return to IronHenge and sorcerers in pursuit.’ It is covered from there on, but it ends with ‘Multiple sorcerers confirmed dead at the scene. Fugitive magicians and…young individual that was with them…presumed dead.’,” She finishes reading. Azalea lets that have its moment.

“The sorcerer that wrote this report died later in an unrelated incident. I backtracked the timeline of the events to find this birth record. Following that line of logic, the child wasn’t apprenticed with any mentor, and then is never mentioned again; I figured that child was the one who was killed. Their name was-”

“Hyacinth,” I finish that sentence for her.

“How did you know that?”

“I left again and went back to Oleander City. I had felt the Necromancer’s magic, so I wanted to make sure they were dead. I found them, dying again. And with the last moments they had left, they asked to see a necklace they carried. It was heavily enchanted, with the image of a laughing child on it… Right before they died, the Necromancer called out to their child: Hyacinth.”

We sit in silence for a while. Now that it’s confirmed with research, I feel as though hives are forming all over my skin. The fact that I protected IronHenge doesn’t assuage the guilt I feel having robbed someone of such justified vengeance.

If I hadn’t intervened, many would’ve died, my friends and Mentor possibly. That good carries a lot of weight.

But a child. A child’s life.

I can more than sympathize with the idea of seeking revenge for a child’s life. At stopping at nothing to make those responsible pay; and in this case, it was IronHenge itself.

Fire starts to burn within me.

No. No, I won't regret what I did.

The Necromancer might’ve had a reason, but innocent people have been killed, and more would’ve been if I hadn’t stopped them. I’ll understand their rage but won’t give in to it. I did a good thing, that’s the end of it.

“Azalea,” I say after calming myself down.

“Yeah?”

“It’s…probably best if this stays buried.”

She opens her mouth to say something but considers what I said.

“The wizard in me wants to disagree, history like this shouldn’t stay buried because it never stays buried.”

She has a point. Besides, wouldn't revealing this be some form of justice?

“I’ll defer to your judgment, Azalea. Personally, I want to put it behind me, but I see the wisdom in your words. You should be careful though, someone enchanted those for a reason. Whoever was responsible might go to further lengths to keep it hidden.”

“Valid point. I’ll sit on this for a bit, and let you know what else I come across.”

I nod and stand up. Azalea walks me back to her door.

“By the way, I’m becoming a sorcerer,” I share with her to lighten the mood.

“What do you mean?”

I explain my entire initiative to her.

“Wow, you’re seriously trying to make history, huh?” I shrug.

“Here’s hoping it ends better than the last bit we just read.”

🌿💀🌿

Two weeks pass by in peace, I stay at home catching up on my shows and trying some new recipes; occasionally wondering if Witch-Hazel would like them.

Her promise to make this, us, work pops into my head as I stir my pot of stew. From her, those are more than just words. I know she’s probably working her ass off right in her magical city. A twinge of guilt goes through me as I think about how I need to protect her heart.

“Holly, you gotta make a decision.”

✨🔮✨

“Hazel, you gotta make a decision.”

These two weeks have been nonstop training and instruction. Both for me and from me. Teaching the sorcerers more effective potion creation and higher-skill combat techniques has effortlessly eliminated my free time. I stand before my bed looking at it with great want. But there’s also the basket of elixirs I need to deliver for Mentor Acacia, as well as the scrolls of shielding wards Lantana expects me to read.

Sleep, work, or work?

A sigh escapes me as I decide to deliver the elixirs while reading the scrolls.

Time passes in a blur until I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn to see Lantana.

“You seemed zoned out.”

“I’m…a bit fried,” I admit. “I’ll push through it though.”

“That’s actually why I came to talk to you.” She reaches into her pocket and produces a sorcerer emblem. It’s a palm-sized piece of blue metal with a flaming fist imprinted on it.

“This is for you.” She puts it in my hand and I hold it like a jewel. After a moment it changes color, becoming jet black. Lantana notices that but moves on, “This is a show of good faith. You’ve been working hard, which is good, but you gotta take a break. I’ll give you three days off. Only three days; but you can go anywhere. Hopefully, you don’t cause any trouble in the meantime. Go see your lady or relax wherever, because I’m going to train you within an inch of your life when you get back,” she says with a smile.

My heart starts pounding as I stare at the future in my hands.

“Now, this is a temporary emblem. If it doesn’t come back into contact with the magic of our barrier in three days, it’ll alert me. I trust you won’t give me reason to worry?”

I heard her, but I can’t form thoughts or words right now.

“Hazel?”

“Yes? I mean, yes! Thank you, thank you for this!”

She chuckles.

“Must be some woman for you to be working this hard. I’m sure you’re eager to see her, you can leave tomorrow.” She walks away from me like she didn’t just give me an amazing gift.

All the fatigue that weighed on me evaporated in an instant. I can’t stop smiling, giddiness has me dancing in the middle of the street like an idiot. A little fire unintentionally comes out of my hands as I clap in joy.

Reinvigorated, I power through my outstanding tasks and rush home to rest. As I lie down, I think of Hollyhock. I wonder how she is, how she’ll react to seeing me, and how she’ll respond to the news that we can be together more.

I can’t help but giggle and kick my feet in excitement at the idea. Somehow, sleep manages to find me, and I dream of Holly. I’m in the passenger seat of her convertible car. She has one arm around me with the other on the wheel. No other cars in sight, no city around us, a green endless pastoral surrounding us. It is only divided by the infinite road we’re cruising down. She turns to look at me and smiles. The breeze pushes her hair ever so gently.

“Where to?”

🌿💀🌿

The pain has mostly left my body, I’m still a little sore, but I’m on my feet again. I wanted to stretch my legs and go out rather than just order my groceries. Which was a bad decision as this heatwave has yet to let up. I’m sweating buckets by the time I get back to my building. After I replenish my fridge, I take a seat on my couch, thinking about what I want to do. My AC, finally repaired, is the only noise I hear as I let my mind wander.

A SWOOSH enters the room next to me, my gun is already pointed at the source before I recognize it.

Witch-Hazel stands in my living room again.

She didn’t even flinch at the gun aimed at her.

✨🔮✨

I’m in Hollyhock’s home again. She, instinctively, pointed a gun, but I’m so happy to see her again I didn’t notice at first.

“Y’know, I have a door that you can knock on. Unless you’re trying to have a horrible accident happen.”

“Where’s the fun in knocking on a door when I can pop in?” She puts the gun on the small table in front of her and then sniffs.

“I’m just saying, I could be edgier one of these days, and act faster than I can think.”

I dismiss the thought that she might hurt me with a wave of my hand.

“Guess what?” I ask her. She sighs.

“Hazel, I swear to god if you say the Necromancer is back again, I’ll unload a clip into my head.”

“No, no, look at this!” I show her the emblem I received. She looks at it and raises an eyebrow.

“Cool. That a medal or something?” Right, of course, she wouldn’t know what it is.

“It’s a sorcerer emblem. It lets me leave IronHenge with permission.” She combs through her hair with her hand.

“Oh yeah? No more sneaking around? Doesn’t that take the fun out of it?” She flashes a sly smile and leans back on her couch.

Looking her over, I realize something. Being separated for so long, I thought what I felt for Hollyhock was want. But seeing her now, I know what I feel is need.

🌿💀🌿

Witch-Hazel practically attacks me with her mouth.

Her lips are on mine and her hands go to my torso. My body reacts with indifference to what I’ve decided regarding the woman kissing me. I press into the kiss and my hands go to her waist.

✨🔮✨

As she kisses me back, I press her further back on the couch. When she’s recumbent, I slide my tongue into her mouth, her hands pull me closer to her hips.

I’ve changed my mind, everything in my life can revolve around her. She’s worth it.

🌿💀🌿

Her tongue meets mine while we press our bodies tighter. She suddenly pulls her hips away from me but doesn’t break our kiss, her hands rush to my jeans. She won’t spare a glance down as she struggles to unbuckle my belt. My breath hitches as she frantically undoes them and unzips me.

✨🔮✨

Hollyhock lifts her hips to help me pull her jeans down. I feel another weapon she has stashed away. A knife, I think. Doesn’t slow me down in the slightest.

Her hands lift my dress, exposing my ass to the air. I tug her jeans further down, her tongue starts playing with mine and her fingers glide along the hem of my underwear. I move my right leg so that her left rests on mine. My hands go back to her hips.

I don’t think we’ve paused to breathe this entire time.

Hollyhock's tongue playfully wrestles mine, my mouth has just enough space for both of them.

Gods and Goddesses.

My hands slide her shirt up, I feel those rock-hard abs of hers and can’t help but giggle a bit.

“Whatchu laughing about?” She asks into my mouth.

“You’ll never get that info out of me,” I reply.

“Don’t be so sure, I got ways to make you talk,” she flicks her finger out the hem of my underwear so it snaps on me. I do the same to her. She giggles a bit.

Then, an annoying chime rings out from beneath me.

Her phone comes to life with noise. I rest my head on her chest as she reaches for her device. Her breathing is fast, but her heart is faster; thundering behind her ribs. In a short moment, she gets her breathing under control, which I can’t help but feel disappointed by. All my work is undone.

I lie on top of her as she takes the call, her left hand is still on my hip.

“Yes, Tamara?” She starts. My eyes down the alluring body of the assassin. She’s wearing black and orange boxer briefs. I slowly trail an index finger down her stomach to her pelvis. She lightly spanks me when my finger tugs at her underwear.

Hollyhock sniffs again.

“Got ya….yeah? How did you… Really?… Okay. It’ll get done.” She ends the call with a sigh. Hollyhock looks at me.

“I swear that woman has a sixth sense when it comes to interrupting us,” I half joke.

“Maybe she has me chipped. Might’ve gotten you too, she knew you were here.”

“… Does she have magic?”

“I wouldn’t put anything past Tamara, especially given her request.”

“What is it?”

“Want to rob a club with me?”

“Sure.”

She stands, pulling her jeans up, covering the prize I almost had.

Soon enough.

“Wait, you’re inviting me?”

“I already know if I ask you to stay out of it, you’ll either ignore it or get into worse trouble; so yeah, I’m inviting you. It’s a better way to keep an eye on you. Plus… never mind.”

I fix my dress and get up.

“What?” She shakes her head.

“Doesn’t matter, what does is that is the target. We’re not robbing a club, per se, but a specific person in it. We need his phone. So no one should get killed today…at least not by us.”

Hollyhock gestures with her head for me to follow her, I do. We go to her bedroom and stand in front of her dresser.

“We have to blend in, so I get to play dress up with you. Let’s butch you up.”

I don’t know what that means exactly, but I go along with the idea. Hollyhock starts picking up different clothes and holding them against me to see how I’d look in them. After some time, she assembles an outfit for me.

🌿💀🌿

I look at the clothes I laid out. An orange plaid shirt, some dog tags I don’t remember ever having, a white tank top, and tan cargo pants that work with the boots she already had on.

Now that we aren’t making out, I have to reforge my decision to cool things off with her.

How do I even do this? I used to ghost chicks, but they couldn’t magically teleport into my house. And they weren’t known by every single Bay Leaf, including Tamara. Whatever.

“Can we do something about your hair? The long, silky waterfall is gonna clash with this fit.”

“Not a problem,” she says. Witch-Hazel leans her head forward and shakes her hands over her hair. Purple sparkles glitz into the air and her hair shortens to a sorta buzz cut look.

Fuck, she’s hot.

“How does that work? Did you suck your hair into your skull?”

“I tug at the bonds of the keratin and-”

“Wait, sorry, we don’t have time for that. Get dressed.”

Witch-Hazel does not attempt privacy and sheds her dress right in front of me; almost as if to show me what I’m missing out on.

✨🔮✨

I undress right in front of Hollyhock to show her what she’s missing out on.

She steals a look or two but goes to dress herself.

“Wait wait wait,” I say. “If I have to dress up, so should you.”

“Oh yeah? What do you have in mind?”

I hold the dress I just took off. Hollyhock gets a good laugh out of that.

“You must’ve drunk the wrong elixir if you think I can fit into that.”

I shake the dress like I’m dusting it and it grows a bit larger.

“Oh right, magic. You can’t seriously expect me to wear that,” the assassin complains. I stick out my lower lip.

She scowls but grabs the dress anyway.

“C’mon, a babydoll dress?”

“You’ll look cute!” I continue to dress.

“I ain’t ever looked cute a day in my life but whatever.” She undresses and I notice she has a slight grimace of pain.

“Are you hurt?”

“Just a lil’ sore from a job. Nothing major.”

I circle her and see small bruises dot her back. My hand moves before I can think, Holly flinches somewhat at the contact. Magic spills from my hand, healing the pain of the woman I love. Hollyhock sighs in relief.

“I forgot how good that feels,” she says. There isn’t a hint of flirtation in her voice, just cool genuineness.

“You only have to ask,” I reply softly into her shoulder.

“I’ll…make sure I remember that. Let’s get ready.” She sniffs again.

Hollyhock squeezes into the dress and adjusts my outfit. Doing only the top button of the plaid shirt and opening the rest to show off the tank top. She adds a black bandana around my neck and rolls up the sleeves. Her clothes are a little too big, so I shrink them to fit better.

“Can I get an adjustment here?” Hollyhock tugs at the purple dress. Even though I made it bigger, her physique threatens to burst through. Her trapezii meet resistance at the straps holding the dress up. I bite my lips at the sight.

However, it’s too constrictive for her to move in. I loosen the dress more and change the fabric to have a shimmering effect.

Her athletic body in my dress is a sight to behold. The midsection strains at her abs, and the hemline doesn't even halfway get down her thighs. I can spy her boxer briefs peeking out.

“You might want to change your underwear,” I remark.

“You can’t make this dress longer?”

“No,” I lie. “The enchantments surrounding it-”

“Whatever excuse you’re about to make to slut me out can’t be worth all this effort.”

“Just let me dress you up the way I want to! We’re having fun!”

“Oh, we are, huh?” She looks at her phone for the time. “We don’t have time for this, we have to go soon to catch the target. Go sit in the living room.”

I oblige, leaving her with a smile.

🌿💀🌿

Why am I letting her dress me? Why am I listening to her? Why did Tamara tell me to bring her along? What size is this underwear? Why don’t I have any shoes that go with this dress? Oh, here are some. Who left these here? When was the last time I wore heels? What kind of bag is this? Why haven’t I gotten rid of these other clothes?

Whatever, let’s just get this done.

With more appropriate underwear, some golden high heels, and a fuzzy clutch bag, I couldn’t feel more the opposite of myself if I tried.

I’m rocking this look, though.

Witch-Hazel’s eyebrows shoot up, as if she didn’t see me a minute ago. She gets up and circles around me.

“If we didn’t have somewhere to go,” she idly says.

“Yeah, but we do, so focus up,” I curtly reply. “Can you hide my scar? It clashes with my outfit.” Witch-Hazel pauses at my request. “We need to blend in, Hazel, and having part of my ear missing is going to attract unwanted attention.” She stays still for a moment longer, but then complies with a raise of her hand. Purple squares blink into existence in front of my face. They spin and shimmer, then disappear a second later. I pull out a small mirror and see my old face again.

“You’ll still feel it, but no one else can see it.”

“Cool.”

Needing my gun, I walk to the coffee table and bend over; already forgetting I’m wearing a short dress.

“LACY!” Witch-Hazel exclaims. I shoot up straight and hold my dress down. My face instantly heats up with embarrassment.

“I will shoot you, Hazel! I swear I will!”

“Well, I can die happy, so go ahead.”

My anger quickly fades as I think about how no one’s ever lusted after me like Hazel has. The women I’ve been with were attracted to my…proximity to masculinity. But here I am in a shiny short dress, holding a clutch, and stiletto heels; yet Hazel makes it clear as day that she wants me still. Maybe more so.

It’s an unusual feeling. I can’t say if I like or dislike it, it simply is.

I don’t let it marinate, squatting down to grab my gun and put it in my bag. I beckon Witch-Hazel over and put an unloaded gun in her hands.

“There’re no bullets in there,” I explain. “But people won’t know that. Holding it will be enough to scare most, but if you want to look serious.” I pull back the hammer. “Cock it back and people will get the message.” She nods. I uncock the gun and tuck it in the back of her pants.

“Trying to get a feel?”

“You are freaky today,” I comment. She chuckles.

“Hard not to be.”

Warmth spreads to my face again.

“Let’s go, target’s supposed to be there soon.”

We go down to my car and head to the slightly sleazy part of town. The heat is tolerable outside, as clouds have rolled in.

“So what’s the deal with that emblem you showed me earlier? You kinda just jumped after that.”

“I confessed my crimes to the High Council and told them about the Necromancer. I suggested that magical threats are hiding in the non-magical world, and we need a new way to combat them. So I started an initiative where sorcerers live in the non-magical world, to better monitor threats like this.”

“Like a sleeper agent?”

“What?”

“What you’ve just described to me sounds like sleeper agents. People you put in different places and have them blend in until you activate them to do something. Some assassinate persons of interest, overthrow governments, etc.,” I explain.

“Huh, well I guess if the spell fits, then yes. Now I’m training to be a sorcerer.”

I narrow my eyes in thought.

“Wait, didn't you say that leaving your magic city without permission is a serious rule? This High Council didn’t punish you for that, instead, they let you pitch an idea?”

“I convinced them it was a good idea, with some help, but yeah.”

That sounds…off. Should I say that? Maybe this council just likes her. Or maybe they just don’t punish people over there. It’s not my place to say anything. Right?

Witch-Hazel doesn’t notice my internal discussion and moves on.

“I said we’d see each other again. And I’m a witch of my word, or sorcerer, really.”

‘She did all that for me?’

My heart skips a beat.

“Did you learn more about the Necromancer?” I ask, looking to change the subject. As we reach the club, the day is dying, with purple and orange hues signaling its demise. A long line is already formed outside. I keep an eye on our target while listening to Witch-Hazel.

“I did find out more about the Necromancer,” she answers, her voice grim. She tells me about the research a wizard friend of hers uncovered. By the time she reaches the end, I’m completely turned away from the club.

“Damn, that’s…damn.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Makes you wonder how many other times it’s happened,” I muse.

“What do you mean?”

“Things like that, when they’re buried, rarely happen just once. Then again, I’m a cynic living in the murder capital of the country; so take that with a grain of salt.”

✨🔮✨

I mull over what Hollyhock said for a moment, but she taps my shoulder.

“Target’s here.” She nods to a man dressed in blue jeans, a black t-shirt, and a red hat walking along with a pretty woman. They skip the line, much to the annoyance of everyone standing there. The man standing in front lets them in.

Hollyhock covers her Bay Leaf tattoo with that patch she’s used before. Turning to me, she instructs,

“We’ll wait a bit, let him get comfortable, then we’ll head in. I’ll bribe the bouncer to piss off, then we do this quickly. We’re here for his phone specifically, but we’re making it look like a regular robbery. No one needs to get hurt. Got it?”

I nod in compliance.

“Why are you after his phone?”

“It’s…a messy situation. Let’s just say he has a video on there that the client doesn’t want him to have.”

Hollyhock moves the car from across the street, hiding it around the corner. We wait a few minutes, then get out of the car. I hadn’t expected Hollyhock to wear heels so easily, but I guess she does backflips like they’re nothing, so I shouldn’t be surprised. She guides my arm to rest around her hip, becoming another person in an instant. She puts on a sugary, fake smile and carries herself in a way I’ve never seen before.

She sniffs again.

“Why do you keep sniffing?”

“I have no idea, I don’t even know I’m doing it. Maybe I’m developing allergies or something. Let’s worry about it later.”

Her fake smile flashes across her face as we walk past the line, getting angry looks from everyone. We go right up to the bouncer, who looks us up and down. Hollyhock takes a roll of dollars out of her clutch, careful not to reveal her gun inside.

“Why don’t you take an early break?” She whispers with saccharine affection and places the roll in his hand. He nods and walks off. Everyone in line is unsure of what to make of that.

Pushing the door open, we’re greeted with the loud music and dim lights of the club. Hollyhock spots the target and subtly draws my attention to him. We sit at a table with a view of him.

“Pretend we’re talking.”

“We are talking,” I point out.

“Act like it’s an engrossing conversation.”

“I’m not here to talk to anyone else.”

🌿💀🌿

Hazel slides a hand onto my thigh, and shivers travel up my spine. She’s being especially bold today.

But it helps because people will look away from public affection. I run a finger through her now short hair.

“How come you always have gray hair if you can change it?” I ask.

“I just like the color,” she answers, her fingers idly going back and forth on my leg.

“You don’t wear a lot of gray, though.”

“Magicians tend to dress in the color of their aura. Hence, why I usually wear purple.”

I think back to the fight with the Necromancer, when the magic pouring out of her was black.

“Then what about-” I cut myself off. “We have an opportunity here. He’s less surrounded now.”

Our target has a few people around him. From what I can tell, only one of them is armed.

“See that guy over there in the blue jacket?”

Witch-Hazel looks at him and nods.

“He has a gun, focus on him first, get him disarmed then we work the others, okay?”

“Got it. Where are we putting their things if we’re robbing them?”

“You have cargo pockets, put ‘em there. Put some bass in your voice.”

“Understood.”

I pull her bandanna up over her nose and take mine out.

By the time the group notices us approaching, Witch-Hazel already has her gun out and pointed at the one I told her to. Someone tries to press me, but I take my gun out and point it at his face.

They all sit down.

The music is still blasting, and no one on the dance floor has noticed this VIP SECTION getting robbed.

“You know what this is,” Hazel says with a scary voice. She must be using magic because she sounds like a demon. “Hand over your gun.”

The man she’s holding up scrunches his face in frustration, but hands it over. Hazel tosses it to me, a good move.

“Y’all know the drill, phones, wallets, and jewelry!” I yell over the music.

“You heard the lady! Hand them over!”

Hazel’s demonic voice scares them all. A couple of the ladies start crying.

We collect their things with little resistance. Hazel makes sure to alternate her focus on everyone, so no one tries to get her from behind. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’d done this before. Everything’s deposited in her pockets, except the one we’re here for.

Does he know this is just for him?

Before I turn on him, Hazel does.

“Are you fucking deaf? Phones, wallets, and jewelry, NOW!” Her voice shakes even me. The target tries to maintain his cool.

“You ain’t getting nothing from me, you got enough.”

I know I should intervene, just straight up take it from him; but I’m curious how Hazel is gonna handle this. She steps closer to him.

“You know what you are right now? Not where, or who, but what you are?”

“I-” She doesn’t let him finish.

“You’re an obstacle in my path. That’s all you’ve ever been. Your entire fucking life, all that shit you did? It didn’t matter because it was all for this moment, right now; when you and I met. Now you have a chance to make a choice that counts. I’m getting your valuables, no matter what. So ask yourself if I have to shoot you to get them. Ask yourself: is your pride worth your life?”

The cool facade he tried to build crumbles as Hazel puts the gun against his forehead.

“And ask yourself quickly, I’m not very patient.” She pulls back the hammer. He pulls out his wallet, removes his watch, takes off his chain, and hands over our true objective: the phone. “Good choice.”

With all their valuables, Hazel tucks her gun away, and I cover our escape by aiming at the group as we leave. Hazel intuits my next move and pulls the fire alarm.

I put my gun away, and we disappear into the panicked crowd.

✨🔮✨

We burst out through the back door with dozens of people fleeing. Holly pulls my arm, and we head into an alley. She moves us behind a dumpster and peeks out. I steal a glance to see the people we just robbed run out and search for us in the dispersing crowd. Enraged that they can’t find us, they start yelling at each other.

A loud crack booms in the sky, getting everyone’s attention. Seconds later, fat, cold raindrops pour down on the city. The crowd and the target’s group run for cover elsewhere.

“We’re clear,” Holly says. We both stand up from behind the dumpster. I follow the assassin for a couple steps when she stops. She sniffs the air and then laughs.

“What’s so funny?”

She turns to me and I see that dazzling face of hers, wide with a smile.

“This is what your hair smells like to me,” she answers. “Not the garbage, but the rain after a heatwave.”

Gods and Goddesses, she’s so cute.

I feel lightheaded.

🌿💀🌿

For the second time today, Hazel pounces on me with a kiss. With rain pouring on us, she cups my face, and tiny sips of water wet our lips.

✨🔮✨

Holly presses back into the kiss, then presses me against a wall, a chuckle leaves my mouth before she kisses me again.

🌿💀🌿

I get lost in the ecstasy of our embrace, caught up in the rhythm of our kisses; when Hazel grabs me by the hips. An involuntary gasp rises from me, and the witch turns us both around. She has me pinned against something that’s at thigh height. I don’t even think before I move to sit on whatever it is.

She moves in between my legs.

With our clothes soaked and how warm our bodies are; we might as well be naked right now. I feel Hazel’s excitement poking through her shirt as our chests meet in our ever-closer embrace.

✨🔮✨

My hands are insatiable, continually feeling the powerful thighs of the woman I love. I grip those muscles like my life depends on it. Her hands pull me closer by my waist before traveling down to my ass.

Holly kisses my neck and gives me a spirited squeeze.

🌿💀🌿

Hazel draws my tongue out of my mouth with hers and then sucks on the muscle while looking me right in the eyes.

Ooooh fuck.

I wouldn’t need this rain to be soaked after that.

Hazel holds eye contact with me as we try to catch our breath. The witch’s skin is steaming in the rain, where her body meets mine intense warmth radiates into me.

When our breathing is steady, she says to me,

✨🔮✨

“Hollyhock, I think you’re the most beautiful woman in existence,” the words fly out my mouth, not that I wanted to stop them.

She scoffs a bit.

“I guess you can’t see your reflection in my eyes,” Holly tries to joke.

My hand gets rid of the glamour spell hiding her scar, she notices. I move closer so she can feel my words. Looking into her enrapturing smoky quartz eyes, I vow,

“I’m serious.”

🌿💀🌿

Growing up on the street, I’m more than acquainted with hunger. I know what it feels like, and what it looks like.

The look Hazel is giving me goes beyond hunger. Beyond desperation. She has the look of someone poisoned, who knows there’s only one thing they need right now.

And I’m her antidote.

I swallow hard, trying not to say what I want, but fail as I hear myself ask,

“Really?”

“Yes, Holly, yes,” Hazel answers with no hesitation. My legs disobey my orders as they open slightly more.

I know that I’m supposed to end this. That us getting closer will ultimately lead to Hazel’s heart being shattered. She doesn’t deserve that weight, the pain my death would cause her. I have to spare her.

Those gray eyes of hers stare into mine without blinking to show her resolve in her confession.

I have to save her.

I have to right now. Say it!

“Kiss me again.”

She fulfills my desire.

Ch. 30 End.