It was about an hour-long tram ride, followed by a bus ride, after having to wait for about twenty minutes at the bus station, before I arrived at the station vis-a-vis from Gonzo's yard.

Fortunately, I managed to secure a seat on both the tram and the bus. While the tram had been quite crowded, the bus was nearly empty. Holding my mobile phone, I put on my headset and started talking to my alter ego. In this day and age, thanks to mobile phones, you can speak freely to yourself without raising questioning glares.

As I sat there, unable to do anything else but think, I made an effort to redirect my brain toward something productive. Instead of allowing myself to become consumed by restlessness and doubts about whether I would reach Matt in time and if my decision to take the ring was the right one, I focused on trying to think of something else, something useful if possible.

One of the things that I tried to understand was the reason for having incorporated those succubus instincts, and I questioned why I, as the witch, had chosen to incorporate them.

I know I didn't consciously choose to incorporate them, but somehow my witch part did it.

I know, I know, nothing comes for free in this world; there must always be a balance, but who defines that balance; who defines what a succubus is?

I was trying to understand how this spellcasting process works.

Was there a higher order in this world that defined what kind of spells existed? Or was it free for us to define?

Unfortunately, Cala was not of much help in this conversation. For her, I had no choice but to use the package 'as is.' Once I activated the 'package,' or the succubus genes as she was calling it now (!), I had to live with it as it was.

As if those genes would be real!

Did I change, altered myself through this spell, or were those attributes mine but had only been suppressed before?

Engrossed in my internal dialogue, I nearly missed my stop. Thankfully, I had previously spoken to the bus driver about my destination, as I was unsure if there was a specific station near Gonzo's repair shop, and he informed me that I arrived at my destination.

I quickly rose from my seat and exited the bus, thanking the bus driver with a warm smile on my face. As the bus drove away, I waved to him before finding myself at a deserted and dusty station along a similarly dusty road.

I found it rather amusing to notice how my behavior had deviated from my usual self. Normally, I wouldn't engage in conversations with bus drivers. I would have anxiously remained seated, fearing that I might miss my stop or disembark at the wrong station.

Waving to the bus driver would have been out of the question.

It seemed that something had shifted within me, reducing my anxiety and allowing me to be more open and communicative.

Should I be worried about this? I shrugged. I have bigger troubles to think at.

I had to wait for a large truck that cheerfully honked its horn as it passed by before I could safely make my way across and smiled. My mini must be the reason for the merry honk. Maybe I should have made a detour home to change my outfit.

Gonzo's repair shop sat just across from the station, its main gates wide open. The yard was filled with around thirty cars and an assortment of bikes. I couldn't help but wonder how nothing ever got stolen, considering the absence of Gonzo or any other human presence.

As I made my way towards the garage, I could hear some noise emanating from within.

How did Gonzo manage to handle it all by himself?

The expansive garage had ample space to accommodate seven or eight cars, equipped with various workbenches. However, it held an unpleasant memory for me—it was the very place where Gonzo had severed my wings and horns. A shiver ran down my spine as the memory resurfaced.

I took a deep breath, pushing the unsettling memory aside.

"Gonzo? Are you here?" I called out, scanning the garage.

In response, a loud bang echoed through the space, and Gonzo emerged from beneath a car, sliding on a flat board. He quickly stood up, his face breaking into a wide grin.

"Dolores! Oi, long time no see, girl! How are you?" he exclaimed.

He engulfed me in a bear hug, nearly squeezing the life out of me, but careful to avoid getting his oily hands on me.

"Aren't you worried about the risk of a car slipping on you while working here alone?" I asked, feeling a sense of unease at the sight of him surrounded by machinery.

Gonzo shook his head, dismissing my concerns.

"No, don't worry, everything is secured! So, how are you, lady? Hungry? I've got grilled sausages and beer, if you're not driving. Today the shop is closed, so I have plenty of time."

My mouth watered almost instantly. Gonzo knew my weaknesses all too well.

"What about Helen? Where is she?" I inquired.

"She went to see a doctor. She hasn't been feeling well. That's why I left that note for you. Is that why you came?" he responded.

I shook my head in denial and spoke honestly, letting out a sigh.

"I'm dealing with a very urgent situation. A friend of mine has been in an accident, and the doctors say he only has a fifty percent chance of survival. Can you believe that? He's still in the operating room. Does Helen still have the ring? I desperately need it!"

Gonzo paused his hand-washing, his gaze fixed on me. I wasn't sure if he had fully believed my explanation about the ring when I gave it to Helen before, but now it seemed he was reevaluating the situation.

"The ring is here," he finally said, "but I'm not sure if it can help you. Helen conducted some experiments with it, and then she fell ill. She suspects that the ring might be the cause. If you need it, you can have it."

He turned to look me in the eyes.

"Could the ring have made her sick? Could it harm her? Did you experience any issues when you were wearing it?"

I was taken aback by his questions. Uncertain, I shook my head.

"Not that I'm aware of. Can I see the ring, please?"

He nodded understandingly.

"Sure, let me go get it from the house. But I have to warn you, I don't know if it will be of any use now. Helen mentioned that it was probably empty."

My enthusiasm dwindled at his words. Contrary to my expectations, it seemed that she had used it up on some experiments or other endeavors. My heart raced as I pondered whether I had made a mistake by coming here. Should I have stayed in the West End and continued collecting life essence? Would that have been a better way to help Matt?

To make matters worse, Hew called me to inform me that Matt had come out of the operating room and was now in the post-operation high-care area.

Gonzo returned while I was still on the phone with Hew, holding the ring in his hand, patiently waiting for me to finish my conversation.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

He raised an eyebrow as soon as I ended the call.

"How is your friend? Do you think the ring can help him?" he inquired, still holding the ring in his hand.

I took the ring from him, but before I could respond, Cala interjected. "There is still some magic left in it. It could be all he needs to survive!"

I was both surprised and confused. If I remembered correctly, White Flower had imbued the ring with specific spells: a firebolt, a thunderbolt, and three healing spells.

What tests had Helen conducted that consumed part of the magic? What did Cala mean by "some magic"? Would the healing spells still work? However, if Cala believed it would be effective, then that was good enough for me.

Gonzo eyed me, surprised, but he didn't say anything. He expressed his regret that he couldn't drive me anywhere due to having consumed some beer, but he offered me the option of taking the bike instead. He didn't even ask me to pay the one hundred twenty-five bill I still owed him for that parking during the rush-hours story.

I moistened my lips, considering that it might be a good idea since I needed to reach the hospital quickly.

"Can you give me a smaller bike? I don't feel comfortable riding the big one right now," I wondered.

He initially looked taken aback but then nodded and found a smaller bike that I could handle.

I insisted on paying him the money for the traffic violation. He attempted to protest but eventually accepted it. I had the money and didn't want to leave with a debt to him.

With that settled, I hastily left. Hopefully, everything was going to be alright, and I would arrive at the hospital in time. I held onto the hope that Cala was right and the magic contained within the ring would be sufficient to save Matt's life. There were so many uncertainties. My hands trembled as I sped off on the smaller bike towards the hospital.

I had only traveled a few kilometers when a policeman signaled for me to stop. The reason? I was exceeding the speed limit! The damn little bike was faster than the painfully slow allowed pace.

"Even though it may not seem like it, we are still within city limits, and the speed restrictions apply," the policeman explained in a pedantic tone.

I let out a sigh and rolled my eyes, attempting to politely explain that I was driving very carefully but I was in a hurry because my friend was in the hospital and I wanted to see him as soon as possible. May I please, please go?

He didn't appear impressed by my story and asked for my documents. I rummaged through my purse, which I had placed in the small compartment of the bike, only to realize that I had forgotten to take my driver's license with me in the morning. Yeah, I hadn't planned on driving today. To make matters worse, when I opened my handbag, I discovered that my ID was missing.

For a brief moment, I panicked, thinking that I had lost my ID once again, until I realized where it might be. Oh, fuck! It must still be at the reception of that motel.

I believe he noticed my distress and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure you have a driver's license?" he questioned.

"Of course!" I affirmed, "but I left it at home."

"Please provide me with your name and address, and I can verify if you have a valid license," he responded, his tone more severe.

It took him some time to enter my name into the small handheld terminal he was using, and he once again raised an eyebrow before speaking. "Aha?" he uttered.

I let out a sigh of concern. Was there some problem with my license? Did White Flower make a mistake when she created it? Was I now getting into even bigger trouble?

Maybe I should have just waited for the next bus to come and do the round trip through the industrial part of the town. I might still have been faster than this.

"Well, miss, you do have a valid driver's license, but unfortunately, your journey ends here. Or, let's say, a different journey begins," he said with a hint of ambiguity.

My journey ends there? What does he mean?

Sweat started to form on my temples, and I felt my voice tremble. Something was definitely wrong with the license. I knew it! Fuck! How was I going to resolve this issue now?

"What does this mean, officer?" I asked, trying my best to remain calm but unable to completely hide my hand's light shaking.

He simply shrugged.

“I have to take you under arrest for prostitution!”

If lightning had struck me right then and there, I couldn't have been more stunned. I stood there, mouth agape, staring at him in disbelief. My heart raced wildly, and beads of sweat trickled down my temples. This couldn't be happening. It just couldn't.

Besides, was prostitution not legal? I thought it was legal?

That's how I found myself reluctantly entering the back of his car, leaving the new little bike behind in what felt like a lost world.

As he drove me to the station, he filled me in on the details of what had happened, fulfilling one or more of Murphy's laws all at once: if something can go wrong, it will go wrong, at the worst possible moment, in the most troublesome way possible.

At my pleas, he had contacted one colleague from that squad that had requested the warrant, and they were now happily chatting, amused.

That poor douche, that idiot that I had left alone in the hotel room, had caused such a commotion that the hotel staff had no choice but to involve the police. The situation had escalated far beyond what I could have anticipated.

That succubus glance must have left a too strong impression on him. At one point, he had even gone as far as accusing the hotel manager of kidnapping me. Oh, well.

As a result, the frustrated police squad, annoyed by the frivolous case, began scrutinizing every detail and soon discovered that I did not possess a license.

Well, shit, prostitution was legal, but you had to have a license!

I took my head in my hands in a gesture of despair and sighed.

Now, frankly speaking, what I did was not prostitution. I did not do anything with that idiot; I only left him there. I tried to argue that with the police officer, but he only raised his shoulders.

"You don't need to convince me. I believe you, but you'll need to convince the judge," he replied with a hint of amusement.

"Are we going to see the judge now?" I asked, a tinge of desperation in my voice.

He chuckled lightly. "If you're lucky, you'll meet the judge in three or four days from now."

“What? But then what? Why do you want to arrest me? I'll come in three-four days, or whenever he wants, and explain everything. I haven't done anything! I only ran away! You cannot arrest me because I ran away!” - I explained with tears in my eyes.

He shrugged.

“I'm sorry, miss, but there is a warrant on your name. I can assure you that once you have your day in court, you'll have the opportunity to present your case and explain everything. Until then, I'm afraid you'll have to wait in jail. It is not so bad there, believe me."

"But I have to get to the hospital today! My friend was in an accident, and the doctors said he might not make it. They gave him a fifty percent chance of survival, and now you're telling me I'm going to jail? I might never get to see him again!"

He sighed.

"Listen, there might be a solution to see him today. If you go and register today, you can obtain your license, and then the case becomes irrelevant. The day counts, not the time of registration. Do you get it? I can turn a blind eye until you've completed the registration process, and the warrant will be nullified once you have your license. This is the best I can do for you."

“But I do not intend to become a prostitute! I don't need that license!”

With superhuman efforts, I abstained from saying 'fucking license.' He shrugged again.

“Then you'll have to take your chance with the judge. Probably he will believe you and will set you free. Worst case, you get some community work; however, you'll have to stay in jail until your case is seen.”

“Can I go first to the hospital, please?”

My best puppy eyes impersonation did not help. I did not dare to try the succubus look; who knows what I'd be getting myself into if I tried. He shook his head.

“No, sorry. As mentioned, I can delay the paperwork slightly while you obtain your license. Once you have it, I will verify the information and update the computer system, resulting in your release. Alternatively, you can choose to remain here and await the judge's decision."

“And that's OK if I get the license after the fact?”

He regarded me with a skeptical expression as if saying: see, I knew it, as my question implied that I was guilty of the offense.

"Yes, that would be acceptable. The key is that you acted on impulse initially, but then you took the necessary steps to legalize your situation by completing the paperwork and undergoing a medical check. If they want to be petty, they may send you a minor fine for the delay."

“Medical check?”

“Sure, as long as you work, you'll need to do a check every ten days or so.”

And that's how I found myself going to the police station instead of visiting Matt at the hospital.

Surprisingly, the paperwork process was expedited, despite it being a Saturday. There was a lab and medical cabinet in the same building, and there was a specific procedure in place for such cases, and within three hours, I had completed medical checks for various STDs, donated a significant amount of blood for analysis, and obtained a brand-new license. With the license in my hand, I hurriedly hailed a taxi to take me to the hospital.