The screenplay would be about unrequited love. This much had been agreed upon. With her elbow on the table, fist tucked under her chin, Skylar looked outside the coffee shop window as though the lively, day time Manhattan would give her the inspiration she lacked.

Across the small round table at which she sat, her best friend—an aspiring actor—cleared his throat loudly.

“How about,” he said, thin fingers fiddling with his scarf, “my character, struggling with his sexuality, dates the sister of the boy he’s into.” Micah was no writer, but his mind was an endless flow of ideas. He was a good brainstorming partner.

She tilted her head, thoughtful. In the restaurant some people talked animatedly, some fingers danced across computer keyboards or touch screens. The air conditioning was on full blast even though it wasn’t that warm outside. Pop music filled the place with its usual obnoxiousness.

“He really tries with her,” Micah added, “but subconsciously he just wants to get closer to her brother. I know it sounds weird, but if you’re going to make it in this industry, you’ve got to start with something that leaves an impression.”

Frowning slightly, he crossed his arms on the table, waiting for her reaction.

She gave a slight nod. “I like it. Let’s do this.”

“Great!” He smiled warmly.

Grabbing her purse, she searched for her small notebook and pen. She had tried writing a screenplay for her first short film several times before, but nothing was striking or appealing enough. So she just kept at it. At some point she was bound to write something that would be inspiring enough to make them want to actually start filming this thing.

They put their coffee mugs aside. Skylar tucked her long hair behind her ears. She had her blue pen in hand, ready to start scribbling ideas.

But they got interrupted.

She had no idea then, but she would spend the next few weeks wishing her screenplay—or lack thereof—was still the one thing she worried most about.

A petite blonde woman walked up to them, her heels stomping the floor with purpose, her eyes locked onto Skylar like she was the most fascinating thing in the world. 

“Finally! It’s you. I’ve been looking everywhere.” The girl spoke loudly and dramatically. Several people inside the Starbucks stared.

“Do I know you?” asked Skylar, arching an eyebrow.

“No, you don’t,” she answered, almost apologetically. “But I know you, Skylar Clarence. I’ve come to ask for your help.”

The blonde girl looked around frantically and grabbed an unused chair, its legs scraping the floor with an irritating noise when she dragged it to their table. The customers of Starbucks stopped staring; they had better things to do, like listening to Rihanna’s catchy music playing, or waiting for their coffee to be poured by reluctant employees behind the counter. It was September, and some people still wanted iced coffee, whereas others had already gone back to the hot beverage they would continue drinking until next summer.

Skylar was very much confused.

“Oh,” Micah said, “maybe she wants a part in our film!” He smiled at her kindly.

That could be. They had put up an online post about their short film project after all. Skylar had written her name and email on there. But how had this girl found her?

“Are you some kind of stalker?” Skylar crossed her arms, the silver bracelets at her wrists clinking.

“No, I just—”

Micah cut her off midsentence. “We didn’t like our screenplay, so we’re actually going to start from scratch. It’ll be a while before we start filming.”

He was looking at her, slightly turned in his chair, but the girl still had her blue gray eyes locked with Skylar’s. It was starting to make her uncomfortable, actually. She had a sort of talent, or a gift – she didn’t really know what to call it sometimes – which allowed her to figure out most people right away. But this one just gave off a vibe of mystery, and something about her was off – like she wasn’t what she seemed at all.

Skylar took a sip of caramel latte to pretend like nothing was bothering her at all.

“I’m not an actress.” She was still staring across the table at Skylar, as if she was fascinated by every aspect of her appearance.

Skylar tossed at her long curly hair nervously. A strand got stuck in her sparkly earring and she tucked it behind her ear in annoyance.

“Oh, okay, but you can still help with the project if you want. You can give me your phone number.” Micah had already taken out his cell, which was of course one of the latest technologies.

Micah was being adorable in his eagerness, as always. Skylar adored him, with his skintight jeans, graffiti shirt and thin violet scarf around his neck. He looked up at the blonde girl with sincere big blue eyes, ready to type the digits in a new contact entry—cute but naive.

“I don’t think she’s here about the film.”

“Oh.” He looked dejected. It didn’t last too long; as he put his phone back in his jeans pocket one of his favorite pop songs started playing and he was smiling again, tapping his foot under the table.

“My name is Mayrin,” she finally introduced herself. “I know your parents. I know about your skills.” She emphasized the last word, and the look in her eyes said, don’t play dumb.

A shiver ran down Skylar’s spine. Familiar images, memories, danced at the edge of her thoughts, but she pushed them away. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“What is she talking about?” Micah whispered even though Mayrin sat right next to him, therefore hearing him perfectly well. “I thought I was the only one who knew? Well except for your parents.”

When Skylar opened her eyes she returned Mayrin’s stare coldly. She sat back and smoothed her white pencil skirt, crossing her long legs; playing it cool.

“You are the only one who knows.” Her voice was steady, even though she felt very nervous inside.

Mayrin stood up suddenly, almost knocking the chair over. Micah grabbed his mug of green tea protectively, like he was afraid she would throw over the table in her haste.

“I don’t want to talk about this here,” said Mayrin.

She had an accent, but it was slight, and Skylar couldn’t make out what it was. She wore an emerald green dress with a large gold and black belt at her waist, and black heels. Her silvery blonde hair looked like it had been bleached. She was petite, and she looked young yet Skylar couldn’t guess her age if she tried to.

“It has to be just you and me. I don’t want to involve your friend.”

“I’m Micah Caldwell by the way, nice to meet you.” He waved a bit with his hand. He didn’t like being left out of a conversation.

“Meet me at midnight, at this new club called Sound and Blood, in the West Village. Look it up. And come alone.”

And with that she stormed out of the coffee shop, her heels clapping against the floor. Skylar watched her as she stepped onto Third Avenue and hailed a cab, her sleek blonde hair flowing in the wind.

“Whoa,” Micah made a whistling sound, “she’s hot.”

Skylar blinked. “She’s hot? That’s what you’re going with? She’s a crazy stalker is what she is. She said she knows about me.” She tried a sip of latte, scowled; it was getting cold now.

“I’m just saying.” Micah put his hands up in surrender.

“Stop it, you’re the gayest person I know anyway.”

“So? If I’m going to make out with a girl for our film,” he shrugged, “I’d like her to be hot.”

Skylar rolled her eyes.

“Are you going to meet her tonight?” asked Micah. He threw his arm across the back of the empty chair next to him.

She looked out the window, where Mayrin had stood on the sidewalk before getting into a cab. The afternoon sunlight irked her, as though she wished it would be night time already. She stared absently at the traffic, at all the people walking, listening to their music, talking on their phones or texting. Of course she was going to meet her. She needed to know what was going on. Besides, that Mayrin girl didn’t seem like she would give up easily. She needed Skylar’s help? What for?

Slowly, she let her gaze drift back to Micah. He was looking at her tentatively through his dark blonde bangs. He had that haircut with the sides and back trimmed short and the top part kept long.

“Sky? You okay?” His voice was soft.

She cleared her throat and sat up straight, tossing her thick hair behind her shoulders.

“Yeah. I’m fine. I’m probably going to meet with her tonight.”

“I didn’t think she looked like a bad person,” he shrugged.

Skylar tapped her nails on her ceramic coffee mug nervously. She glanced around at all the other people sitting at nearby tables, talking, doing their homework, studying, or just checking their various social networks. Surely no one had overheard their conversation.

“You’re a bad judge of character,” she told him.

“I am not!” said Micah, undignified.

Skylar stared. “You’re dating an abusive jerk. By the way, if you don’t break up with him, I swear I’m going to see him myself to kick his ass.”

She could do it. She had a black belt in tae kwon do.

“Oh, Shawn? It’s over. I met someone last night. That’s what I was going to tell you! Before that weird girl happened. I texted Shawn and told him I was breaking up.” He smiled proudly, showing his perfect white teeth.

“Finally.”

“Hey, he wasn’t that bad. He just had some anger management issues.”

“Oh my god Micah you’re so… naive. And stupid.”

“Shut up! I broke up with him didn’t I? I’m just trying to say I’m not that bad at judging people. But you’re the psychic one, so…” He let the sentence trail off. He was clearly expecting her to say something.

She tapped her nails against her mug some more.

“I don’t know. I couldn’t figure her out, couldn’t even tell if she was being honest.”

He tilted his head, letting some more dark blonde strands slip over his forehead.

“Kind of like with Blake?”

Blake was her boyfriend – well, she wasn’t entirely sure she could call him that. She wasn’t good with those things. But they were definitely dating. She had only known him for two weeks though.

“Yeah but with Blake I think my, um, attraction for him, or whatever, is messing up my psychic vibes.” Just thinking about him made her cheeks flush a bit.

“That’s too bad. Would come in handy knowing when your boyfriend’s lying to you.”

“Indeed. My powers fail me when I most need them.”

“How do you think Mayrin knows about them?”

“No bloody idea.”

“Just because you have a crush on your British photography teacher doesn’t mean you should start talking like that. You sound silly.”

She didn’t have a crush on her teacher. Micah was exaggerating. Besides, why did he keep changing the subject? She was anxious about that stalker girl right now. She played with her curls, looking away.

“Whatever,” she said.

His cell phone vibrated and he checked it. Then Micah’s expression changed suddenly, like he had just remembered something.

“Oh yeah, I invited him! He just texted me he was coming!”

She blinked. “What? Who?”

Micah was grinning. “I know you’re going to meet that girl at midnight – and I’m definitely coming with you – but we were supposed to have dinner at my place with Blake, remember? So I could meet him. I invited the guy I met last night, so I wouldn’t be a third wheel.”

Skylar’s eyes went wide. “Right. I completely forgot. Come on let’s get out of here. I need to go get the stuff to make sushi.”

That brief conversation with this strange girl Mayrin really bothered her, but at the same time she didn’t want to just go home and lie down on her bed thinking about it while gnawing at her nails until midnight. So she thought, might as well go along with their plans for the evening, for now.

Micah trotted behind her in his expensive designer sneakers as she walked out of Starbucks. He was checking his cell or texting or something. Skylar had to hold his arm as they crossed the street because he couldn’t be bothered to look up, and then they headed toward the grocery store Skylar wanted to check out.

She lived in a cheap apartment on the West Side, near Columbia University where she studied visual arts. Her three roommates were annoying and loud. As for Micah, he lived in a beautiful condo on the Upper East Side, in one of those fancy complexes with the door men and chauffeurs and everything. It was a much better choice for a dinner party.

Inside the store she shivered slightly because of the air conditioning. Walking along the aisle toward the fish stand, she brought a hand to her chest. She touched the chain around her neck absently with her thumb and index. The locket was a tiny picture of her mother. There was actually a spell in it, or so her mother had told her. Apparently, this way, she would immediately know if her daughter was in trouble. Even better than a cell phone, her mother had said.

“Skylar, you’ve been staring at this piece of salmon for like, five minutes.”

“Sorry.” She put it in their small cart. She had to move aside to let another customer look at the salmon.

“Something wrong?”

Micah was looking at her with big inquiring blue eyes.

“I was just wondering if I should call my mom, ask her if she’s ever heard of that… Mayrin. Ask her what I should do about it.”

“You should. Your parents actually care about you, unlike mine.”

She picked out some tuna.

“They care. They’re just workaholics. Be glad they pay for your school and your fancy lifestyle.”

“Can’t you be on my side for once?” he whined.

She just shrugged.

Later, on their way to Micah’s place, the conversation stalled. Skylar couldn’t stop thinking about Mayrin. It was just so odd, so out of the blue. Also it was Sunday. Would some club in the West Village be open on a Sunday night? Oh well, she supposed this really was the city that never sleeps. Not even on week nights.

 

***

 

The condo was on the seventh floor of a fancy apartment complex. Micah was sitting on the white couch in the living room, legs propped up on the light wood coffee table, glass of white wine in his hand. He was looking at his two Bengal cats playing. He had bought one of those big play grounds for cats that took up half the space in the room. When his parents were home he had to keep it in his bedroom, but when they left Micah did whatever he wanted. Understandingly he’d rather not have the cats play in his bedroom and keep him up all night.

He had named the cats Clover and Leaf.

Skylar was standing next to the arched window, admiring the view. The lilac curtains were pulled aside. Manhattan was always so full of life. The sky was getting darker, and clouded up, like it was going to rain. Some people walking on the busy street were already opening their umbrellas – wouldn’t want to mess up their hair if rain suddenly started pouring. Well, it had been somewhat wet outside today. As proof, Skylar’s hair was curlier than usual.

She also had a glass of white wine in her hand, actually. In fact she had already finished it, and it was her second one. She had been drinking while preparing the sushi. It was 6 p.m. now, so the boys were supposed to get here soon enough. Blake had never been late in the short time that she had known him, anyway.

“You know it’ll ring when they get here, right? You don’t have to wait for them by the window.”

“I’m not. I’m just admiring the view,” said Skylar flatly.

“Right.”

She stared at him over her shoulder. He had straightened his hair – the long part of it anyway – and changed into some tight, low rise black pants and an electric blue button down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up at his elbows. He even wore a black and white tie. He was so bright that he clashed with the dull, pastel living room. The walls were ivory. Even the floor was the whitest hardwood Skylar had ever seen. Micah’s parents had strange taste.

Skylar hadn’t called her mother after all. There had been no time. She had made a lot of sushi, just to be sure there would be enough.

She fiddled with the hem of the curtain nervously. She wondered if she was nervous because she was going to see Blake soon – that relationship was still new to her, after all – or because she was meeting that strange girl Mayrin in six hours. Probably both.

At last she saw Blake and another young man getting out of a cab. Together. That was strange.

“Micah,” she waved her hand, “come over here. Is that your friend?”

He rushed to her side and followed her gaze.

“Yeah that’s Viko. They got here together?”

“Do you think they know each other?” asked Skylar.

“Dunno.”

While Micah answered the intercom, letting them in, the cats ran off to hide in Micah’s bedroom, and Skylar went to the kitchen. She wasn’t too sure about the living room, but she really liked the kitchen, with the ceramic floor, stainless steel appliances, and granite countertops. At her apartment, it was small and messy so she could never cook. Or if she really wanted to, she had to clear up the heaped piles of dirty dishes her roommates always left all over the place first. But in Micah’s condo the kitchen was so wide and always sparkling clean, mostly because a cleaning lady came every week, plus Micah always ordered in or ate out.

She just stared at her huge pile of sushi, as if she wanted to make sure it hadn’t disappeared while she was in the living room. She was proud of her work. She had put a lot of effort into it. She had really nailed the sticky rice this time. There were all sorts of ingredients in there, in various combinations; the fish she had bought earlier plus cucumber, avocado, carrots, mango, cream cheese, tahini sauce, Japanese spicy mayo, wasabi and soy sauce on the side of course. Blake had better like it.

“Skylar what are you doing?” Micah called from the foyer.

After taking a deep breath she went to join him to greet their guests, the small heels of her silver ballerina shoes thudding softly on the spotless hardwood floor. She passed a family portrait, Micah with his parents and brother and sister, all with a forced smile on their faces. Micah’s smile was definitely the most half-assed. That made Skylar chuckle every time she looked at the portrait.

Micah had just closed the door. Blake shot her that smoldering look he was so good at, with his deep brown eyes. She tried to repress a smile. He was just so tall and handsome and he wore a perfectly tailored black suit. The black shirt had a few buttons open under the slim jacket, no tie. How could she stop her heart from beating a tad faster? Blake was always so overdressed, like he expected her to start wearing designer dresses to go on dates with him.

Next to him was a boy just as tall as Blake, but skinnier. His chocolate brown hair was long, reaching just below his shoulders, and ruffled like he’d just woken up. His clothes were quite eccentric. He wore cut off black jeans meeting spiked combat boots mid-calf. His leather belt had studs and chains hanging from it, as well as a metallic buckle with a dragon design. His top was an open vest. Leopard print. Save for a black necklace with a claw pendant, he had nothing underneath, revealing smooth tan skin.

“Um,” Micah started nervously, “Viko, this is my best friend Skylar,

and—”

He couldn’t finish. Viko flung himself at him, sliding his thin brown arms around Micah’s waist, gripping the blue fabric of his shirt like he wanted to rip it off. They were kissing, Viko pinning Micah to the ivory painted wall, in between a tall ornate mirror and an oriental tapestry with an elephant on it. Micah didn’t seem to have a problem with the fact that Viko was messing up his carefully straightened hair.

Skylar tilted her head, a question stuck in her throat. Micah had always had a thing for the aggressively straight-forward types, but this was a bit intense.

She stopped looking when a warm hand found its way to her back, feeling the curve of her spine. The little hairs at the back of her neck rose. She looked up and saw the amused glint in Blake’s dark eyes.

“That looks like fun,” he said in a low, velvety voice.

He played with a curl of Skylar’s caramel hair. She shook him off.

“In your dreams.”

“Every night,” said Blake in her ear.

She let out a chuckle.

Louder, she said, “Really, Micah, if you wanted to spend some time alone with your new friend you should’ve just told me…”

“Sorry,” Micah managed to say between two kisses, before finally pushing Viko away firmly.

Micah’s eyes were dazed, his lips slightly darkened and his tie loosened. Viko looked the same as before. He looked at Skylar for the first time. His eyes were a yellowish green, like a cat.

He shrugged one shoulder. “I was just happy to see him.”

“Oh really, I couldn’t tell,” she teased. She had a hand at her hip. “So I guess we should introduce each other, or…?”

Blake pointed his chin at Micah. “Just us,” he said. He went to shake his hand. “I’m Blake. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Y-Yeah, uh, me too. I’m Micah Caldwell, nice to meet you,” he blurted out awkwardly. Blake could have that effect on people. Micah was still leaning against the wall when Blake released his hand. “Do you guys already know each other then?” he asked.

“We’re cousins,” said Blake.

Viko nodded. “I’m staying with Blake and his sister while I’m in town.”

Skylar remembered Blake telling her that he was living with his sister, but he hadn’t told her anything about a cousin. Maybe it was recent. Micah had just met Viko last night, after all.

“That’s so cool,” Micah beamed, “such a small world, eh?”

He looked at himself in the ornate mirror briefly so he could attempt at replacing his hair. Viko was eyeing him fondly.

She shook her head clear. “Anyway, I’m gonna go get some wine. Everyone wants some?”

The response was affirmative, especially Viko who told her to bring the whole bottle.

So they ended up sitting in the living room, Micah and his new friend together on the white couch, Skylar and Blake in the ivory sofa chairs around the coffee table, which held four overly wide wine glasses and an almost empty bottle. Micah’s iPod was plugged to good quality speakers on the far wall shelves, in between rows of books. The music playing now was Daft Punk’s Get Lucky. Modern pop music lyrics seemed to be about naught but sex.

Skylar looked at Viko after taking a sip of wine. “So you just got in town?”

“Yes,” he answered without looking at her.

His hand was in Micah’s, their fingers linked, touching both their thighs. Viko was drinking his wine quite fast. He soon grabbed the bottle and emptied it in his glass.

“Where from?” asked Skylar.

He didn’t answer her right away. She crossed her legs and sipped at her wine some more, waiting awkwardly. Blake seemed relaxed and amused as always. He had taken off his jacket and thrown it over the back of the sofa. He looked nice in just the slim black shirt. The few undone buttons showed flawless pale skin. Other than the music playing low, the only sound was that of the rain which had just started dripping outside, streaming down the window.

“Viko?” tried Micah almost timidly.

“Oh, sorry.” He snapped out of his reverie and finally looked at Skylar, while propping up a booted foot on the lightwood coffee table. Really, he could’ve taken those off. If Micah’s mother was anything like Skylar’s, she would’ve had a heart attack knowing this was happening.

“What was the question again?” he asked.

His yellow eyes were so intense, and his traits angular. The soft light of the crystal ceiling lamp made his skin glow a nice gold shade. He would make any tanning salon fanatic jealous. He reminded Skylar of one of those editorial models with peculiar looks – not your stereotypical beauty but all the more intriguing. That leopard vest still looked ridiculous though.

“I just asked you where you’re from.”

“I’m from all over the place, you know? I don’t believe in,” Viko’s gaze drifted across the room as if in distaste, “staying at the same place all the time. I need to always keep moving.”

Skylar repressed the urge to roll her eyes. This guy was so odd. She shot a glance at Micah, but he ignored her, drinking his wine.

She cleared her throat. Apparently she was the only one trying to make conversation here.

“Did you stay in England with Blake, for college?” she asked.

“What?” Viko seemed a bit confused.

“It’s just, you have a slight accent, like Blake, and he told me he studied there for a few years.”

“Skylar likes British accents so much,” Micah joked, “she detects it right away.”

“Oh, yeah,” Viko stood and stretched his lean body, still holding his wine glass, “I lived there for a while, with Blake, yeah. I’m gonna go get some more.”

And he was off to the kitchen.

Skylar hauled herself up and wriggled around the low table to sit next to Micah.

“Is he on drugs or something? He’s acting so weird.” She kept her voice low.

Micah frowned. “I don’t think—”

“Yes,” Blake interrupted, crossing his ankles elegantly, “he actually took something before coming here. It’s harmless though, as long as he doesn’t start using too much, yeah? I know he’s a bit weird but he grows on you.”

“I’ll look after him,” Micah decided, “make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

Skylar was going to ask more questions about Viko, but Blake took the conversation somewhere else.

“Hey, so how’s school? You still enjoy photography? How’s live drawing?”

“There were some interesting models.”

“But none as interesting as me.”

“You are so full of yourself.”

And just like that, she couldn’t help but smile, lowering her gaze as she remembered. This was how they had met. Blake had been the model for her first live drawing class. He did that as a hobby sometimes, apparently. She could never forget. That day the weather was hot, and the air conditioning wasn’t working in the fine arts department, so they had a few fans spread across the classroom, wind rustling the sketch pads. Blake had stood on a block in the center, naked. The teacher had explained about lines and shadings, shapes, muscles… Skylar hadn’t really listened. How could she pay attention to the teacher when she felt way too warm, and the male model was staring at her, and only at her, even though she was sitting in the back of the classroom? When the lesson was over, Blake had gotten dressed and waited for her outside the room while she gathered her material. She hadn’t been too surprised to see him there waiting in the corridor, hand in his pocket, uncertain smile on his lips. They had gotten some iced lattes and gone for a walk during Skylar’s break, and then before she knew it they were dating.

Micah interrupted her day dreaming. “Skylar told me the story. It’s so romantic.”

“Isn’t it?” Skylar joked. “I got to see him naked before we even exchanged one word.”

“I wish I had a story like that to tell,” Micah sighed, “but I always meet my boyfriends in clubs.”

That last word reminded her of where she had to be at midnight, and who she had to meet, and just like that her good mood was swept away, replaced by an uneasiness spreading in her chest like a dark wave. Absently she stroked the chain resting against her collarbones.

“That’s all right,” said Blake. “You like dancing, don’t you? Skylar told me you were really good at it.”

“Viko’s actually much better,” Micah smiled fondly.

Skylar sprung to her feet. “Speaking of, isn’t he taking a lot of time getting that bottle of wine?”

She marched to the kitchen, and froze as she stepped on the ceramic floor. Viko certainly wasn’t growing on her right now; he hadn’t gotten more wine, instead he had eaten almost all the sushi. Actually, she realized only the vegetarian rolls were left. She had made those for Micah, because he was against eating meat or fish. She couldn’t believe it.

Viko smiled at her like an idiot, licking his fingers.

“That was so good. You guys should have some.”

She brought a hand to her hair. “What the hell? How are we supposed to have some if you eat all of it? I don’t care what drug you’re on, I—”

Leaning his hip against the granite counter, Viko pointed down at the large white platter, with the remains of the meal she had prepared. “You mean that was it? There’s no more?” He looked disappointed, like a spoiled child being told there were no more Christmas presents for him.

“That was a lot! I mean, come on, how could you eat all of that? This is ridiculous.” She breathed out loudly, irritated.

“What’s wrong love?” Blake walked across the hall and came to stand behind her.

Micah wasn’t far behind. “Yeah Sky what’s the deal? Stop PMSing.”

She pushed past both of them, returning to the living room with rapid, angry steps, frightening one of the cats that had dared to venture out of Micah’s bedroom in the process.

“You scared Clover!” said Micah sadly from the middle of the hallway.

How he could differentiate the two identical Bengal cats was outside her comprehension.

“I don’t care,” she said darkly, before grabbing her glass and draining the wine that was in it. “I hate your boyfriend. Tell him to leave.”

But no one was listening to her. They were still in the kitchen.

“Whoa, Vik, did you eat all of that?” Micah was laughing.

 Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the end of the world, but she wasn’t going to laugh about it. She went to Micah’s bedroom, the cats scurrying off under the four poster bed at the sight of her, and found his slim black hooded leather jacket thrown carelessly across the back of his expensive computer chair. After putting it on she returned to the living room to collect her silver and white bag. She swung the strap over her shoulder and unzipped it as she walked up to the foyer. She realized the boys were staring at her.

“Sky?” called Micah carefully.

“I’m sorry, I just…” She fiddled with her bag’s zipper. “You guys can just order something I guess. I need to get some air.” She made for the doorknob.

Viko stepped forward. “I’m sorry,” he said, “if I upset you. I was hungry, and there was food.”

She gave a little tired laugh. “It’s fine. I’m just stressed right now. This isn’t like me.”

“It’s true,” said Micah, glancing sideways at Blake, “she’s usually really cool, about everything. A real guy’s girl.”

“You’re so silly Micah you don’t have to defend me…”

But he went on, “She just really wanted you to try her cooking! All is not lost, Skylar.” He made a grand gesture with his hand. “There’s still the veggie ones. Those are the best, anyway.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Shut up Vik not now,” Micah hushed.

“I’m just, I’m gonna go.” Skylar turned the doorknob. She glanced at Blake threw a curtain of long curly hair slipping out of the hood. “Let’s just hang out another time, kay?”

“Can I at least take you home?” asked Blake, stepping toward her hesitantly.

But she was already halfway out the door.

“I’m fine, really.”

They didn’t come after her. It was better this way. She waited until she was out of the elevator to call her parents’ home phone. As she made her way across the reception hall of the building the security staff all smiled at her. They recognized her as Micah’s friend by now, since she had practically spent the summer here. She made a small smile as the door man opened for her.

It wasn’t raining that hard, but she still felt a bit silly in her ballerina shoes. That really was the least of her problems right now, though.

Her father finally picked up the phone. She was used to it. He was in a wheelchair so sometimes it took some time. She felt a sharp pang of guilt in her chest whenever she thought about him. The accident that had paralyzed his legs had been her fault.

After exchanging the usual pleasantries, and pretending that she was doing just fine, she asked if she could talk to her mother.

“Oh, sorry Skylar, she’s out on a girl’s night with her friends from yoga class.”

“All right.” She looked up and crossed the street as the light flashed green. She was vaguely walking toward central park. “Tell her to call me when she comes home, if it’s not too late?”

“Sure, no problem.”

They hung up soon after. She received many text messages from both Micah and Blake but she ignored them all. She wasn’t particularly angry at them; she just didn’t want to deal with anything right now. It had been weird earlier, with that stupid Viko guy. And he was Blake’s cousin, to boot. She just really didn’t need any more weirdness today.

Skylar shoved her hands in her pockets. She still had a good five hours before meeting Mayrin at that stupid club; might as well walk. She needed to clear her mind anyway. There was something comforting about the big city, with its restaurants, stores, banks, beauty salons, coffee shops lining the streets, buzzing with life, floodlights shrouding the evening air, and its seas of people always walking quickly in the street, heading here or there, like they were all in this together somehow. It could be strangely lonely at times, too, but that was all right. She had always been a bit of a loner.

She did feel a bit calmer than before, the sound of the rain thudding softly against pavement lulling her to a dazed state. She walked as far as possible from the street, so she wouldn’t get splashed by the cars whizzing by.

Her father’s voice had always soothed her, ever since she was a little girl. She just wished that stupid accident had never happened. Her father didn’t know that it was her fault. Her mother had forbidden her to tell him. Only her mother knew, and Micah. She had told him the whole story. He believed her, and he felt for her. He was the best friend she could have hoped for.

I’ve come to ask for your help. What the hell did she want her help for? Her mother had always promised her that it was a well kept secret. No one was supposed to know that they were witches. 

2: Chapter 2

2

 

 

After walking across Central Park and Times Square, still fascinated by New York’s lights at night even though she had lived here for three months now, Skylar gave up and took the subway to the West Village.

She looked up Sound and Blood online after getting off the train. As soon as she managed to get some kind of internet connection, she saw that they had a facebook page, inviting people to come check out the new underground club ‘if they dared.’ Apparently it was some sort of punk, gothic themed place. Skylar wasn’t sure she fit the requirements with her ballerina shoes and white skirt. Now she felt stupid for not getting changed, especially with all that rain. Thankfully, Micah’s leather jacket reached down to her mid-thighs.

After some more walking, hood pulled down against her forehead, she wound up on Christopher Street. She had been to this area with Micah before, so she didn’t feel too lost. They had visited a gay club though, not a gothic one. What was a gothic bar like anyway? She had trouble imagining gothic people dancing.

She found the place between a pizza restaurant and a convenience store; some narrow brick building with what looked like apartments upstairs, with a ‘For rent’ sign in one of the upper windows. She pushed open the black painted door. The address in red numbers was the same as the one on the facebook page, so it was worth a shot. She was a few hours too early though. Mayrin probably wouldn’t be here yet.

A set of dim stairs went down into darkness. There were no signs on the walls, no posters, nothing. Skylar held her breath and started down the stairs, brushing the wall with her extended hand. She squinted her eyes but she really couldn’t see much. The steps creaked under her small heeled shoes. Further down the darkness seemed to be filled with fog. Also she could hear the hint of a musical beat. Finally her feet touched the landing. There was a red ceiling lamp in the narrow corridor, lighting up the fog with a pinkish glow. There was another black door.

But when Skylar tried to open this one, she found it was locked. There was a bell, though. So she rang it. This was so strange. She pushed back her hood while she waited, and unzipped the jacket a bit. She curled damp strands of hair around her fingers. She thought she recognized the music. Marilyn Manson. She rang the bell a second time.

She waited so long that when the door did open with a creaking noise, she jumped out of her skin. A blonde man with glasses and a red polo shirt smiled at her, his hand still on the door knob. He didn’t look punk or gothic in the slightest.

“ID?” he said.

She was nineteen, so she wasn’t sure he would let her in. She didn’t usually get asked for her cards. She still fumbled in her silver bag, looking for her wallet. The fog was thicker now, slipping out of the open door and shrouding the air.

Suddenly the young man burst out laughing. “I’m joking! So, how did you hear about us?”

“My friend,” Skylar said, regaining her composure, “she told me about this place. I’m supposed to meet her here.”

“Great!” His smile never faltered.

She got weird vibes from him, like he was dangerous or something, but she didn’t make much of it. She had never been afraid of danger. She was a confident woman. Men rarely attack confident-looking girls. And if one were to attack her anyway, well she had taken many self-defense courses, added to the tae kwon do. She knew where to hit.

When Skylar stepped closer, the smiling man raised a hand to stop her. Some metallic rings adorned his fingers.

“It’ll be twenty dollars please.”

“Are you joking again?” asked Skylar, hopeful.

But the smile quivered slightly. “Is there a problem?”

“No, of course not.” She returned his smile coolly, finding her wallet and giving him a twenty dollar bill. “I just hope my friend’s going to pay me back later is all.”

He let her in with a fake laugh. She stepped inside a basement filled with so much artificial fog and smoke that it was hardly possible to see anything. The blonde man pointed with his thumb toward their right, where some hangers dangled from a mostly bare metallic pole.

“Five dollars for coat checks.”

She clutched Micah’s leather jacket at her waist. “It’s okay, I’ll keep it on me.”

It was actually rather cold in the room. She could almost feel the cool cement floor through her shoes. This was so odd. She felt more like she had come to someone’s house party than to a club. At least there were other people, so that was reassuring. A group of five friends sat at a round black table, the two girls drinking what looked like mojitos, and the three boys sharing a pitcher of beer. There were only two other tables, empty for now. The rest of the space was occupied by the dance floor, she supposed. A drugged up girl was dancing lazily, a dazed smile on her lips, her head thrown back. A boy stood next to her, smiling in between two whiffs of his joint.

Skylar moved to her left, where the slick black bar counter lined the long wall. Row upon row of all kinds of liquor filled the shelves behind the counter. The staff working the bar was all girls. Some people of various age groups sat on red bar stools, drinking. The music was some kind of mix of metal and techno at the moment. It was interesting. Skylar didn’t dislike it.

She unzipped her jacket completely but kept it on. The barmaid that came to serve her had a nice, curvy body clad in a little red dress, long black hair and very plump lips, like a younger version of Angelina Jolie.

“What can I get you hun?”

“Do you have white wine?” asked Skylar.

The barmaid nodded and went to open a bottle. She charged a ridiculous price for one glass and Skylar paid reluctantly, deciding she would drink it very slowly.

Skylar’s parents had introduced her to wine when she was fourteen. The European way, they liked to say. She had always liked it. She liked the bittersweet taste, and the fruity fragrance.

The Angelina Jolie look alike stuck around, replacing some bottles, wiping the counter, pretending to work. She looked bored. Sitting on one of those red stools, Skylar peered over her shoulder, tucking stray hairs behind her ear. The drugged up girl was still the only one dancing.

“Are you open every day?” asked Skylar, turning back to look at the barmaid.

She nodded slowly, unwrapping a mint gum and sliding it between her impressive red lips. She started chewing. She didn’t look like she wanted to converse. Rather, she glanced past Skylar at the dance floor, eyes glazed, as if she was getting high off the artificial smoke.

Today kept getting weirder.

Skylar ended up drinking her wine quickly anyway, because she had nothing else to do. She was still ignoring the messages Micah and Blake were sending. Her mother still hadn’t called. She listened to the music. They played blasts from the past, like Sweet Dreams; the original version this time, not the one by Marilyn Manson. More costumers walked in, each of them giving twenty dollars to the nerdy guy with the glasses and rings. No wonder he was smiling so much.

More people were dancing now. Apparently the person in charge of the lights had gotten here, too. Flashing green spotlights lit up the foggy dance floor. Only green lights, flickering frantically. It was dizzying.

Skylar had never thought she would be happy to see Mayrin. But when the silvery-haired girl walked in the club, Skylar sprung to her feet and waved. Mayrin walked up to her, somehow graceful even in her ridiculous high heels. She still wore that light green strapless dress. The expression on her face was wary and cautious, her blue gray eyes darting across the room. Even with the heels she was a bit shorter than Skylar.

“You’re early,” said Mayrin.

“So are you.” It was a little before 9 p.m.

“I had a feeling you’d come here early.”

“And why is that?” Skylar crossed her arms. She felt a bit warm in the jacket now, but she kept it on anyway, like it was the next best thing to having her best friend by her side.

“Because you want to know what I know.” Mayrin’s voice was steady.
Skylar arched an eyebrow. “I do. I expect some kind of explanation. I just don’t understand why you chose this place. Honestly, it’s not that terrible, I suppose, but—”

Mayrin took her arm to pull her closer, casting a glance around to make sure no one was watching or listening to them. In the green flashing lights Mayrin’s face seemed ethereal; fine-boned nose, rosy lips, pale skin. Her eyebrows and even her long eyelashes were almost as pale as her hair – perhaps that was her natural hair color after all. She looked so delicate compared to the strength with which she was holding Skylar’s arm.

“There are monsters in New York.”

“That sounds like a good title for an action flick,” said Skylar.

Mayrin pulled her even closer. Cold desperation flashed in her eyes. “I’m serious. It’s spreading fast. You have to help me stop this.”

“What kind of monsters?”

“Bloodsuckers,” Mayrin whispered, “that need human blood to survive.”

“You mean vampires? Are you joking?”

She shook her head. “I’ve recently found out about your legends, stories. It makes me wonder if this has ever happened before. Unfortunately, my oldest history books were burned during the last war.”

“Whoa, woman, slow down, you’ve completely lost me. And let go of my arm you’re hurting me.”

Mayrin released her hold on Skylar with a start. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Skylar sighed, holding her wrist. “Look, I’d love to listen to what you have to say, but this really isn’t the best place, with the loud music and everything.”

“If you’re going to believe me I have to show you first. Come, maybe they’re already here.”

“They?” echoed Skylar.

But she got no further explanation. Mayrin started up along the bar counter, sinuously making her way through the growing crowd. Skylar followed, as she was clearly expected to. She was already here, so she might as well get to the bottom of this, even though Mayrin sounded like a crazy person. She was leading them to the back room.

It read ‘Staff only’ but Mayrin pushed the door anyway. She looked over her shoulder at Skylar, beckoning her inside. The door closed behind them. It was your typical employee’s room, with the dull neon light, lockers on one side and mini kitchen on the other. In the center was a fold over table with some plastic chairs. On one of the chairs sat the man with the glasses and red polo shirt. Except he wasn’t smiling anymore.

He rose to his feet and put a hand up to stop them, like he had done earlier before asking Skylar for twenty dollars.

“You can’t come in here.” His tone was dark and dangerous. Skylar felt something deep inside, and it chilled her to the bone. She realized it was fear. Her sixth sense was telling her to stay the hell away from this man.

Mayrin spoke slowly, as if to make sure Skylar would understand. “He’s one of them. I need you to kill him.”

Skylar shot her an incredulous glance. “What?”

Before Mayrin could say anymore, the man lashed at her, so intensely that his glasses fell to the floor. They should’ve broken, but Skylar realized they didn’t have any glass in them. Frozen momentarily in shock, Skylar watched as the crazed man smashed Mayrin’s head against the lockers with a loud clashing noise. Blood trickled down from her temple, staining her light hair. Skylar regained her senses quickly enough to grab the man’s arm so he wouldn’t smash her again.

Except it didn’t work. It was like trying to move a thick iron bar stuck in cement. She couldn’t help Mayrin. This man was going to kill her.

“Fire,” Mayrin said urgently, “you have to use fire. Skylar, please.”

Skylar would never forget what happened next. The young man’s canines elongated and became needle sharp as he opened his mouth wide. With a growl he launched at Mayrin’s delicate neck, biting furiously. Screaming, Skylar tried to grab him again, to pull him away from her. But it was useless. Kicking him or punching him wasn’t doing anything either.

Fire.

Memories quickly filled her mind. Memories of whatever parks or wooden patches she could find in Dorchester, Boston, where she had lived before. As long as the woods were deserted, they were her sanctuary. She used to practice magic there. It was always so overwhelming and amazing, her powers growing every time. She would take out the purple lighter she always carried around even though she didn’t smoke, and she would play with the flame, making it bigger, or smaller at will. Once she had even lit up an immense bonfire.

“Please, Skylar!” Mayrin’s voice was weak as that man sucked out her blood.

“Tastes so amazing,” he mumbled against her neck between two gulps, “I’ve never tasted anything like it before.”

Skylar still had that lighter. Miraculously, she snagged it from her messy bag right away. She had sworn off magic four years ago. Could she really do this?

She was surprised by how easy it was. It came back right away, like riding a bicycle. The lighter produced a flame, and that was all she needed. The feeling was so familiar and delicious it hurt, surging through her veins like blood. She had missed it so atrociously without really knowing it.

A snarl curled her lips. She watched with satisfaction as bluish flames started licking the man’s back. Crying out in pain, he let go of Mayrin and whirled to face Skylar instead, blood dripping from his long teeth.

“She warned me about you!” growled the vampire. “I’m going to destroy you for her!”

But Skylar wasn’t afraid. She had only been waiting for him to get away from Mayrin. She lifted her chin arrogantly as the flames started spreading rapidly, like someone had poured oil all over him. Skylar purposefully made the flames so hot and destructive that in less than a minute he was no more than a pile of churning bones and ashes.

Feeling high from the adrenaline, Skylar laughed nervously. She couldn’t comprehend what had just happened, yet she couldn’t stop laughing. Either her memories had faded, or this had been much more of a rush than what she used to feel when practicing while hiding in the trees.

But she remembered Mayrin was hurt. Her laughter died in her throat as she went to her. Blood was staining her hair, skin and dress.

“Oh my god, all this blood. We need to get you to a hospital.”

But Mayrin shook her head. She seemed quite relaxed for someone who had just been attacked savagely. She walked around the table, heels stomping in the ashes carelessly, to get to the sink. She used water to clean her neck a little, and then she showed it to Skylar, pushing her hair back. Skylar came closer and her eyes went wide in disbelief. The bite marks were already gone. There wasn’t even a scar.

“Don’t worry about me. I heal extremely fast,” said Mayrin softly.

“What are you?” was all Skylar could say. Her throat felt dry, and her ears were buzzing.

“No time. There might be more outside. Come.”

Mayrin took her hand and went to open the door next to the lockers. It led to a flight of stairs, which they climbed rapidly, heels clapping. Finally Mayrin pushed a heavy steel door like it was no effort at all. It gave in a narrow service alley. The air was filled with the stench of heaping piles of garbage.

Her eyes adapting to the dark, Skylar could see two vampires drinking blood from the same girl as she leaned against the brick wall. With the faint yellow light coming from the street, she could see it was the drugged up, dancing girl from earlier. And one of the boys was the one who had been smiling at her while smoking pot. Horrified, Skylar clenched the lighter that was still inside her fist.

“They’ve just started. She can still be saved.” Mayrin shot her a sideways glance. “You should try without the lighter.”

“What? This isn’t an experiment! I’ve never done it without the lighter.”

Angrily, Skylar unleashed her magic once more, focusing on the lighter’s flame despite Mayrin’s advice. The same thing as before happened. The two vampires came to attack her, baring pointy fangs, but it was already too late. Actually, it was even faster this time. The fire ate them whole. Before she knew it, her bluish flames had disappeared, and ashes were sifting in the wind across the graffiti strewn bricks.

A satisfied smile curled Mayrin’s lips.

“Is it over?” asked Skylar in a trembling voice. She couldn’t believe these things actually existed. And she had killed them with fire. Realization of what had just taken place here had yet to sink in.

But she got no answer. Mayrin took out a small knife from her bra, of all places, and then she used it to slice her wrist. Skylar wanted to ask her what she was doing, but the question remained stuck in her throat. Mayrin went to the injured girl. Still leaning against the brick wall, she was shaking violently and holding her bleeding neck with both hands through lanky brown hair. Firmly, Mayrin took her wrists and pulled them away. She then let the blood slide from her wrist and onto the girl’s neck. Skylar stepped closer, curiosity winning over fear.

The girl’s bite marks disappeared. She looked up at Mayrin like she was the messiah, with big brown eyes circled with thick layers of smudged black makeup.

“Leave,” Mayrin said, “and never come back here again.”

“I won’t,” she said shakily. “Thank you.”

She walked away on teetering heels. Skylar was looking at Mayrin like she was seeing her for the first time.

“Is it over?” she couldn’t help but ask again.

“Yes, for now.”

They found their way to the sidewalk, where they marched up the street side by side, waiting for a cab to drive by. The blood stains on Mayrin’s green dress were blatantly obvious under the lampposts. Skylar gave her Micah’s jacket to cover it up, and Mayrin put it on wordlessly.

“Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“Not at all.”

“What about your wrist?”

She showed her. The white skin was as smooth as it could be.

“You lost a lot of blood,” Skylar argued.

“It’s nothing. I might be a little tired, that’s all.”

They passed some other bars along the street. People were chatting, drinking, and having fun. The night seemed so peaceful to Skylar. She felt so shaken up inside in comparison.

“The vampire, the one with the red shirt, who was he talking about when he said she warned me about you?”

Mayrin looked to the side. “I don’t know.” It seemed like she was hiding something though.

“What are you really? Are you a different type of witch, or something like that?”

“Something like that,” said Mayrin quietly.

 

***

 

In the cab Mayrin told her she had no place to stay, so Skylar told the driver to head toward Columbia University, since her apartment was really close. She had preferred an apartment to living in the dorms because she was more of a loner, and she liked having her own kitchen and bathroom. Well, she had roommates for financial reasons right now. But she didn’t regret her decision. She liked the independence and freedom that she most likely wouldn’t have living in the dorms.

They couldn’t talk in the cab, otherwise the driver would’ve set his GPS to the nearest psych ward. Skylar just wanted to get home as fast as possible, so she could calm down and feel safe again. Could she really ever feel safe again after seeing something like that though? Images danced in her mind, of bloodied fangs and bluish flames. The smell of rotted flesh lingered in her nostrils. She was as afraid of herself as she was of them.

It had felt so amazing though. Looking back, she now understood that it had taken a tragedy for her to swear off magic. Was it going to start again now? Was she going to be obsessed with it once more? She couldn’t. She wasn’t a little girl anymore, running off to parks after school to move the water in the ponds, make the wind stronger, or watch flames dancing and growing bigger. She shuddered.

“Everything all right?” The cab driver looked at her through his rear-view mirror. “You’re not going to throw up are you?”

“I’m fine,” she muttered.

She just couldn’t get the growls of the vampires out of her head. Were they even vampires? She couldn’t stop thinking about her flames burning them, about the adrenaline that had felt so good it had been like a drug. Unfortunately, her racing thoughts couldn’t be drowned by the circulation sounds or the radio music in the cab.

The rest of the ride was quiet, save for Skylar giving him more specific instructions to get to her apartment building on 111th Street near Broadway. At night the buildings all looked so much alike. During her first month here she’d had trouble recognizing it.

On the porch, Skylar fumbled for her keys with a trembling hand. She was shivering even though it wasn’t cold outside. Her hand found her cell phone rather than her keys, and she realized it was vibrating. It was Micah.

She put it to her ear, Mayrin standing patiently next to her.

“Sky? I’ve called you like, a thousand times! Do I need to come meet you at that club?”

“No!” she shouted, alerting some old couple out on a peaceful evening stroll. “Don’t you dare go to that place. Ever. Just stay home.”

“Uh… okay.”

She finally found her keys, and unlocked the door, still holding the phone to her ear. She led Mayrin inside and they climbed up the stairs all the way to the third floor.

In the phone, Micah was asking her what was going on, and Skylar simply couldn’t find the words to explain.

“You shouldn’t tell him anything,” Mayrin said quietly. “Leave him out of this.”

She slid the key in the lock when she got to her door, before realizing it was already open.

“Blake was really upset when you left, you know? He was trying to hide it but I could tell. And Viko felt bad. Really.”

“I don’t care,” Skylar said shakily, “about that right now. Just don’t go to that club. I’ll explain everything later.”

“Explain what? Sky? Don’t hang—”

She hung up. After locking the door she slipped out of her shoes, leaving them on the entryway rug. Mayrin did the same, massaging her feet. Never mind the heels; Skylar couldn’t believe that girl was even standing on her feet right now after losing all that blood

The five and a half apartment certainly wasn’t anything like Micah’s condo, but she still liked it. Sure the wooden floors weren’t so fresh, the white paint on the walls cracked here and there, and the living room furniture was a little bit of everything her roommates had gathered from thrift shops, but it was still cozy, somehow. It felt like home.

Her roommates were still up. She could hear Florence and Mike laughing in their shared bedroom, all the way down the hall. They had gotten together after being roommates for a few months. That was why they had decided to get another person to share the apartment, in order to save a bit of money. Skylar had seen the post online, and that was how she had entered their lives. Her other roommate, Josh, was just getting out of the shower. He walked the few steps that separated his bedroom from the bathroom with just a blue towel wrapped at his hips. Mayrin clutched the jacket Skylar had given her, making sure it hid all the blood stains. Josh smiled at the girls and gave a quick “Hey Skylar!” before disappearing in his bedroom, no doubt to either watch a basketball game on his flat screen or play some Xbox.

“He’s so beautiful,” said Mayrin, following Skylar to her own bedroom, which was situated in the middle. The apartment was longer than it was large, with the living room at one end and the kitchen at the other.

“Josh? Yeah well, he works out a lot. His dream was always to play for the NBA one day. He’s in Columbia’s basketball team right now.”

Mayrin gave a slight nod as she sat on the double bed, her paleness clashing with the navy comforter. She was nodding even though she wasn’t too sure what Skylar was talking about. No need for a sixth sense to figure that out. Mayrin clearly wasn’t from around here.

There was no ceiling lamp in her bedroom which could be annoying. Instead she had one lamp on her work desk and another on her night table. Both had silk shades and beaded fringes. Skylar flicked both lamps on and stood in front of her messy wardrobe, scanning the carelessly thrown clothes to figure out what she could give Mayrin.

“Are you and Josh…?”

Skylar whipped around. “What? No. You really want to talk about boys right now?”

“I was just trying to take your mind off things.” Mayrin shrugged off the leather jacket.

“You shouldn’t try to take my mind off things. You should explain those things to me.” Skylar’s eyes lingered on the blood stained green dress. “It’s a shame. It was very pretty.”

“Thank you. I had brought some gold with me, to exchange it for money. Those heels and that dress were all that money could buy me.”

Skylar brought a hand to her messy hair, arching an eyebrow. “You had a limited amount of money and you chose to buy fancy shoes and clothes? Are you insane? Wait, don’t answer that.”

Mayrin scoffed. “You should know, where I’m from, I am what you call a designer. I’m the best, too.”

“Yeah?” Skylar gestured dramatically with her hand. “Enlighten me. Where the hell are you from?”

“I can’t tell you. You wouldn’t believe me.” She lowered her lead-colored eyes, sighing. “I should’ve thought about how to explain these things to you.”

“Maybe you should’ve.”

“But I was in a hurry! You don’t understand. Those bloodsuckers are spreading fast, and no one is taking care of it but me!”

Skylar took a step toward her, the old wooden floor creaking under her bare feet. She pointed with a finger. “You’re right, I don’t understand. I don’t understand why you made me do all that tonight, when you could’ve just called the police. I don’t know how you found out that I have powers, but I’ll have you know I’m not using them ever again. That was an exception, all right? To save your life. And that girl’s life.”

Mayrin looked up, baffled. Her hands were resting on either side of her thighs on the bed. Outside, the clouds were clearing up, letting the moon shine through. Mayrin’s hair really did look silver in the pale glow.

“Why never use them? They’re a part of you. You can’t repress that. There’s no way.”

Skylar’s hand found its way to her chest, feeling her own frantic heartbeat. Her eyes started tearing up.

“I repressed them for four years, and I was fine, before tonight.”

But it had felt so good. She had been exactly like a drug addict that had been deprived for a long time, never really finding anything else to fill in the emptiness, and then finally getting to use again. Mayrin’s words hit hard because they were true.

“Why repress them?” Mayrin insisted.

“Just… don’t. Don’t ask.”

She turned around, wiping at her eyes. She selected a long cashmere black shirt that was a bit too small for her. She picked out some pale green leggings to go with it. Mayrin seemed to like that color. Skylar wondered why she was being so nice to her.

“Here,” she said, handing her the clothes, “this should fit you.”

Mayrin took them but didn’t move. “I want to know, Skylar.”

She crossed her arms against her chest stubbornly. “Okay, I’ll tell you. But only if you tell me how you knew who I was.”

“I will. But not right now. It’s too much for you all at once. I’ll reveal everything later. The fact that you repressed your powers for so long really bothers me though, so if you could—”

“Fine!” Skylar threw her head back in annoyance. She tried to give her the short version. “I could control water, fire, and wind. I thought, what other element is there? Earth. So I wanted to give it a try. I was fifteen. It was getting late, and I was getting frustrated. I knew my parents were probably worried, but I didn’t care. I forced it out of me. I… There was an earthquake. And I couldn’t stop it. Some trees fell, some houses were damaged and some people were hurt, including my father. He had come to look for me because he was worried. A tree fell on his back. He’s been in a wheelchair ever since. Satisfied?”

Well now she was crying. Great. She was glad no makeup adorned her eyes today otherwise it would have been about as smudged as the eyeliner on that girl they had saved earlier.

“That’s why I swore off magic. And I intend to respect that. It’s a vow to myself. It’s important to me, okay? So I can’t help you Mayrin, I’m sorry.” Her voice became almost inaudible.

Very quietly, Mayrin rose, and took off the stained dress, tossing it on the floor next to the light wood dresser. She wore a sort of belt just under her bra, with that knife she had used earlier strapped to it on the side.

Skylar cleared her throat, trying to keep her breath from catching. “That’s brilliant. Can I steal the idea? I’m sure I’d get rich.”

But Mayrin wasn’t listening. She was looking at the framed photos on Skylar’s dresser, while slowly slipping on the leggings. There was a black and white photo of Micah. She had used him as a model for her first photography project. Her teacher had totally loved it. He looked like a professional model, with intense eyes gazing at something unknown in the distance, his sleek hair falling on one side, head slightly tilted, revealing a well defined jaw. There were three silver ring piercings in the upper part of his ear. He was using it as part of his actor port-folio now.

 She also had pictures of her parents, of course. There was one of them in front of their Victorian home in Dorchester, one of them on the tennis court. There was one of Skylar together with them, a sort of family portrait in the living room, with the wood panel wall as a background. They looked happy. Skylar had always liked taking pictures of the people she loved, as if she was afraid she would forget them.

Mayrin had put on the long black shirt now. The clothes fit her nice.

“I hope they’re fancy enough for you, princess.”

She seemed lost in her thoughts.

“What is it?” asked Skylar.

“What if I healed him?”

She blinked. “Huh?”

“Your father.” Their eyes met. “What if I healed him? Would you help me then?”