Singe took a breath as he arrived. If his Uncle could drive a car, why was it Singe’s job to get groceries?
Because Uncle Burns needed alone time, but with Bobbi avoiding him, Singe wasn’t going out as often.
“Please, I’m not—”
Singe turned toward the man’s voice. He was surrounded by big men in shirts with a camouflage peace symbol.
Peacekeepers. Singe stalked over.
“What do you think you’re doing?” A woman had moved in front of the helpless man before Singe could arrive.
“Keeping people safe.” The one directly in front of her said, “Powereds like him—”
Singe felt the heat before he saw the fire that had started on the mens’ backs.
“She’s a worse freak than him!”
One of them tried to grab her, and Singe took his cue to intervene, grabbing the man’s wrist.
“Three ‘powereds’,” he warned, “And this is how I look when I’m respectable.”
The peacekeepers each locked eyes with him or the woman and backed away before running. Singe let go of his captive’s arm after the rest ran away. He followed their lead.
“Thank you,” the small man said, “I’m not even superhuman. I just didn’t agree when he called them a threat.”
“Peacekeepers are just assholes,” Singe said.
“I take it they don’t actually have any peacekeeping authority,” the woman said. Singe found her hard to look away from.
She had black hair in tight curls held back in a bun, brown skin, plump lips, muscled arms, and bright red eyes that Singe found all his focus drawn to.
“He’s right,” the man said, “They’re just assholes. Have a good day.”
Singe finally exited his stupor as he was left alone with the red-eyed woman.
“You’re not from here, are you.”
“What gave it away?”
“Anyone within ten miles of a haven town would know who the peacekeepers are.”
“I take it they’re opposed to superhumans.”
“Maybe you do know them.”
She smiled. She had a charming gap in her teeth.
“Your accent blends well,” she said, “But you’re from Draconis, aren’t you?”
“Phoenician, I take it?” he asked back. Only one place where a fire mage wouldn’t think twice before using their power on someone.
“Forge,” she explained, “And since you didn’t correct me, I think I’m right about your origins. With this being presentable for you,” she gestured at his whole body, “You must be a zmeu.”
She didn’t seem uncomfortable, but Singe found himself a bit more wary.
“What gives you that impression?”
“Violet eyes,” she said, “Black hair: night dragon colors.”
“Why would a Forge know about dragon colors?”
“I’ve helped build wings before,” she answered simply, “Are you more comfortable like this?”
He’d flown here, so he didn’t have an itch to transform, but he didn’t need to tell a stranger that, no matter how difficult it might be to look away from her.
“What did you need here anyways?” he asked.
“Ingredients,” she said, “I’m supposed to meet someone, and I hear they have a sweet tooth, so I thought it would help make a good impression.”
If she wasn’t a Forge, Singe would assume this was a marriage meeting, but the Forge didn’t care much about bloodlines, at least not as much as the rest of Magek seemed to.
In the worst case, he could spend more time with her before he never saw her again.
“If you don’t have money, I can get the ingredients for you,” he offered.
Her eyes widened, making her iris seem orange as more of the darker inside disappeared behind pupils.
“I forgot,” she said in a haunted tone.
“Communal living makes it easy to forget people use money. Draconis mainly uses bartering, and it’s easy for me to forget.”
“I owe you a debt then.”
“No,” Singe said, “You’re paying me back with a few more minutes of your company.”
She watched him quizzically.
“Okay.”
“So what do you need?” he asked as they finally stepped through the doors.
“Flour, butter, light and dark sugar, eggs, vanilla, chocolate chips, baking soda, salt…”
“Most of those aren’t common ingredients in Magek.”
“I’ve been to Earth before, just not when there were peacekeepers trawling about, apparently.”
“Where’d you learn to bake cookies?”
“My godmother. I usually stay with her.”
“Not this time though?”
“No, I’m staying with her again. She’s the one who asked me here.”
It returned to potentially being a date if someone outside her family invited her.
“Are you sure she doesn’t already have these ingredients at her house already?”
She bit her lip.
“She probably does.”
“Well I won’t keep you if you want to head out to her. I can take you though if you’re willing to wait until I finish groceries. I’ve been in the area about a year, so I know my way around.”
“I could probably use the guidance,” she assured him, “My godmother’s house is one of the few places I can always find.”
“How so?”
“She knows when I’m looking for it.”
A psychic godmother. Probably for the best Singe didn’t take the girl home. His thoughts weren’t completely altruistic.
Who even was this girl? He got so excited by her looks he forgot that was something to know.
“By the way, I don’t think I got your name. I assume your surname’s Forge, but that’s not really a good way to find someone.”
“Skylar,” she answered, “Everyone calls me Skylar.”
“Everyone calls me Singe,” he revealed in turn.
Skylar’s eyes widened again.
“Tyrain?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Like the dead war hero?”
“Yeah,” he admitted, “My father. Why does a Forge know about a war hero from Draconis?”
She looked like she was searching for something.
“I really should go to my godmother’s. Best of luck with your groceries.”
He couldn’t bring himself to reply. If she reacted like that to hearing his father’s name, she probably didn’t want to talk to Singe himself.
“I must have imagined it,” he muttered.
Usually he thought someone’s red hair was the color that had been seared into his mind, but red eyes could trick him too, apparently.
“So she’s here?” Bobbi asked as she stepped into Charmer’s cabin.
“She’s in Precedent, but said she had to do something first.”
“I take it you disabled the traps?” Bobbi guessed, “I certainly didn’t deal with any.
“I’ll reactivate them once you leave the premises,” Charmer promised.
Bobbi looked around. She hadn’t actually been inside since the Peter incident. All their lessons were on the porch or in the yard.
She should have brought Syren along, but in all honesty, Bobbi felt like bringing anyone would lead to Charmer having them turn on her again.
“They didn’t turn on you as I recall,” Charmer corrected, “They simply let me almost kill them so you would panic enough to use a semblance of your craft. How is any further practice going?”
“I could break your windows again if you want an example.”
Charmer laughed, and Bobbi couldn’t deny there was something comforting about it, which set her on edge the moment she noticed.
Charmer sighed.
“Have you considered respecting other people’s mental privacy?” Bobbi asked, “That’s like the one place it really shouldn’t be possible for other people to get to.”
“Even in a world without telepaths, the mind would not be safe from machinations,” Charmer replied, “And I am giving far more respect than you know. It’s just harder to ignore a thought when it’s about me.”
“Like hearing your name said in someone else’s conversation,” Bobbi acknowledged.
“And it’s not like finding my laugh too comforting for comfort is the most embarrassing thought someone’s had about me.”
“What’s the most embarrassing?” Even if Bobbi wasn’t fully comfortable, she was curious.
“Even you thought I was beautiful when we first met, and you have no interest in sexual affairs. Imagine the thoughts of those with such inclination.”
Bobbi laughed awkwardly.
“Why would someone—”
“Because some people fantasize about sex, especially with people they find attractive, and many people find me attractive. It’s a natural effect demons have.”
“Are you not offended?”
“Of course I’m offended, Bobbi, but as you said, the mind is the one place other people shouldn’t have access to. If I acted on everything that offended me, I wouldn’t have offered you help.”
Charmer had a lot more on her plate than Bobbi was aware of it seemed.
“You’re not wrong.”
Still invasive.
“You can wait outside for all I care, that’s where—”
The door opened suddenly, revealing a Black woman a little older than Bobbi wearing a leather jacket over a thick sweater, along with thick jeans. How was she not overheating?
The woman suddenly looked at Bobbi.
“I’m late,” she surmised, “Hi, Aunt Catey.”
“Catey?” Bobbi asked.
“A shortened version of my given name,” Charmer explained, “She came up with it when she was a teenager.”
“So you’re the goddaughter?”
They at least shared a penchant for dressing warmly, not that godparents needed to share any traits with their godchildren.
“Skylar,” the goddaughter offered a hand.
“Bobbi.”
“You can’t exactly be late when we didn’t set a time,” Charmer consoled, “Bobbi just arrived first.”
“I’m too late for my plan to work,” Skylar corrected.
“What plan?” Bobbi asked, “If you need me to leave for awhile—”
“No,” Skylar pushed her hair back, revealing an ornate cuff on her left ear, “I was going to bake cookies, but I’ll have to leave that for another time.”
“You should have come here straightaway if you wanted to bake.”
“I thought I might need ingredients, but then I realized you would probably have them.”
“Probably, or I could ask a friend for some. A friend of mine just sent his nephew on a grocery run.”
Bobbi kept her eyes on Skylar. She reminded Bobbi of Singe, in that she didn’t feel like she was from Earth, though not in quite the same way. Singe was inviting, while Skylar was intimidating.
“Now that introductions and affairs are in order,” Charmer said, “I think it’s time to discuss why I invited you here, Skylar.”
“You had a friend that needed healing,” she gestured to Bobbi.
“Friend is pushing it,” Bobbi insisted.
“Someone I’m willing to ask a favor of you for,” Charmer corrected, “If only because you’re our best shot at keeping her alive.”
Skylar looked Bobbi up and down.
“You look fine to me.”
“I feel—” suddenly all pain rushed in and Bobbi started panting.
“She’s skilled at suppression,” Charmer admitted.
“What the fuck!”
“What hurts?” Skylar asked, kneeling to look Bobbi in the eyes.
Right, Charmer said she’d have to reveal everything.
“Let’s go outside,” Bobbi requested, “Catey said we’d have to go there anyways.”
Before anyone could insist she sit down, she was rushing out the door, taking off her shoes to feel the earth beneath her. It helped with the pain.
“Skylar, tell her your identity,” Charmer ordered.
“What identity?” Bobbi asked.
Skylar turned to watch Charmer with what Bobbi guessed was disbelief.
“Bobbi is not one to be vulnerable without some vulnerability in return. If you share your secret, she will be more willing to share hers.”
“Okay,” Skylar stepped off the porch a few paces and spread her arms. Wings of fire appeared behind her, hot enough that Bobbi actually had to step back.
“My name is Ariana Forge, third daughter of King Reuben Forge, and a Phoenix.”
Bobbi started with the information she understood.
“You’re a princess?”
“The second princess of Phoenix.”
“How are you the second princess if you’re the third daughter?”
“It’s complicated.”
“And why is it important that you’re a Phoenix… from Phoenix, presumably not the state capitol.”
“The Phoenix is the most powerful fire mage, capable of healing through purification, and the only healer that can revive the dead.”
“You can what?”
“Newly dead,” Skylar specified, “I can’t bring a mummy back or anything.”
“Still insane,” Bobbi promised, “Why is it so important to stay a secret?”
“Because by the laws of Phoenix, I should be sovereign.”
“Like now?”
Skylar nodded.
“But I have no intention of ruling. There’s something I can do about it, but I’ve been delaying things.”
“The agreement for her to come here,” Charmer revealed, “Was that when she returns, she will reveal herself to the public, perform the rite of embers, and leave ruling to her father and sister.”
“Wait, reveal yourself to the public, like people don’t know you even exist?”
“Yeah,” Skylar admitted, “It’s difficult to keep a Phoenix hidden unless you go where people aren’t allowed to look, which is why I grew up in the Forge,” She slid her finger on the earcuff like it meant something.
“You’ve asked your questions,” Charmer said, “Now it’s time to respond in kind.”
Bobbi wanted more time to process that they were hiding a princess now, but she wasn’t sure how to argue.
She took a deep breath, turned around, and took off her own jacket, revealing her wings.
“What the fuck?” Skylar asked, “How are you alive?”
“I burned the guy who did this alive before he could accidentally kill me.”
“I don’t mean the injury, though I’m glad he’s been dealt with, I mean you. How are you alive when the fey are all gone? Why are you on Earth of all worlds?”
“I was probably born here,” Bobbi revealed.
“Huh.”
Skylar walked around her, just staring.
“I don’t know if I can fix this,” she said, lightly touching Bobbi’s injured wing.
“It’s this or amputation,” Bobbi insisted.
“I might take the amputation.”
“Not your call,” Bobbi reminded her.
Skylar stayed silent for awhile, lightly touching the injured wing. She apologized every time Bobbi winced, insisting she needed to get a decent look at it.
“Do you have bandages?” Skylar asked.
Bobbi pulled a roll from her pocket.
“The best chance you have for getting your wing back is if I bandage it up before I heal it, but it probably won’t work.”
Bobbi nodded. Any chance to fly again. She didn’t notice before how much the existence of wings had helped her move around. Skylar’s efforts didn’t hurt, but it felt strange to have something around her wing.
“If you don’t know what a Phoenix is, you probably don’t know what Phoenix-fire feels like,” Skylar surmised.
“Does it need a warning?”
“What’s the hottest temperature you’ve ever endured?”
“Probably your wings earlier.”
Skylar cringed.
“Sorry.”
“I’m impressively heat-resistant,” Bobbi insisted, “Don’t worry.”
“Those were technically Phoenix Fire,” Skylar admitted, “But they weren’t much warmer than normal fire mage abilities.”
“And the healing…”
“At least twenty times hotter, but once you get over the heat, you’ll feel incredibly refreshed. I mostly use it to treat community members with arthritis.”
“Okay,” Bobbi squeaked, “Let’s get it over with.”
Skylar breathed, and the fire almost seemed to start from her back, so it was surrounding both of them.
As soon as the flames made their way around her, Bobbi collapsed, stuck sitting on the ground. Was this what it felt like to be cooked alive? Her swiftly evaporating sweat did little to help. Her wings seemed to suffer the worst superheating, which hopefully meant it was working.
Just when she reached the panting stages, the fire stopped.
She stretched her wings, feeling lighter than ever. She didn’t think too hard about Charmer and Skylar’s wide eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” Skylar said.
Bobbi focused on her wings again. The right one was gone. Not completely gone, but mostly gone.
Bobbi collapsed again.
Skylar swore in a different language, lifting Bobbi up from the side.
“I’m stuck,” Bobbi said, “I hid this shit for years and now I’ll never fly again because—”
Bobbi started sobbing. Was this punishment for something. What the hell did she do?
She did end up killing a bunch of vampires, but they attacked first, and she wouldn’t have done it if her wing hadn’t been hurt in the first place, making her delirious with pain, so it couldn’t have been punishment for that.
She heard herself cry louder even as she tried to keep it in. Charmer of all people had no right to see her this way, not to mention Skylar, the total stranger.
This was stupid. She walked around people every day who couldn’t fly, and it wasn’t like they complained. It wasn’t like she used her wings that often, with how much she hid them. It wasn’t like she’d been in pain for months, pretending everything was fine, because she actually thought she could heal from it. She’d wanted it to linger a little longer.
And all she had for comfort was a demon she didn’t like, and a total stranger. How was she supposed to tell Syren about this, and she was still avoiding Vlad. She probably wasn’t allowed to tell Singe if Skylar was a special type of mage that had to be kept secret.
“I’ll help you get back home,” Skylar said, an order not an offer.
Bobbi just nodded, still bawling, like she’d lost something valuable. She tried to quiet herself as they moved through the forest, if only to avoid disturbing the wildlife.
“I got my hopes up alongside you,” Skylar admitted, “I mean, I’m the Phoenix, and I grew up in the Forge, so if anyone can fix the impossible, it should be me, right?”
Bobbi took careful breaths. She hadn’t thought about Skylar’s surname, but Singe had mentioned the Forge.
“Doesn’t the Forge make prosthetics?”
Skylar dropped her, but luckily Bobbi caught herself so she could still stand.
Before Skylar could respond to anything, something had tossed her to the ground.
“I thought I heard you scream,” the vampire said as he stalked toward Bobbi, “You’re weak again.”
Bobbi didn’t bother with an answer, humming under her breath to concentrate on capturing the jerk.
He moved too fast, grabbing her throat, squeezing tighter.
“I lost my comrades, my brothers. You killed good men.”
“Racist shitheads,” Bobbi struggled to correct.
“Let her go,” Skylar ordered from behind.
“I don’t care about you, bitch. Run while you can.”
Fire quickly encapsulated the vampire, turning him to ash in milliseconds.
Bobbi kicked the vampire’s remains around.
“Do you know how long it took me to burn one?”
Skylar looked terrified.
“Oh, shit.”
A princess raised in isolation probably didn’t have much experience with fighting for her life.
“That was a Vampire,” Bobbi explained, “From the Brotherhood of the Hypocrisy or whatever the hell they are. They kill people, racistly.”
Skylar still had the wide-eyed look Bobbi probably had when she first dealt with Vampires.
“The point is he would have killed both of us if you hadn’t cremated him.”
Skylar caught her breathing.
“You killed a lot of them?” she asked.
“They’re the reason you had to burn my wing off.”
Skylar nodded, eyes getting slightly smaller.
“And they just randomly attack people?”
“This was intentional,” Bobbi said, “I killed a lot of them. I think Charmer’s killed more though.”
“Great.”
“Sorry.”
Skylar schooled her breathing a bit longer as she stood back up. She looked Bobbi up and down.
“It’s probably for the best if you can fly,” she said, “If those guys are after you.”
“I can handle them,” Bobbi tossed the concern off, “They usually can’t catch me off guard, but I was preoccupied this time.”
“I’m not much of a smith,” Skylar admitted, “But I do decent glass work. It’ll be trial and error, and it will be more rigid than your wing used to be, but would you let me try to build a prosthetic so you can fly.”
“Do you think you can keep it a secret?” Bobbi asked. She already liked Skylar a bit, thanks to saving her life and all, but this was probably a big deal to keep to oneself.
“I’ll do the best I can,” Skylar said, “I’ve managed not to let on to my identity when I visit the palace, and anyone asking about my time in the Forge will clock me as a furnace right away.”
That was hopefully something.
“Why are you helping me, aside from the fey being rare deal?”
Skylar stood up straight.
“I already met someone who lost his father because of my family. I’d at least like to do something for someone who lost their race because of my kingdom.”
Bobbi knew enough to be sure Skylar’s kingdom wasn’t the sole perpetrator, but she wasn’t going to question her right to reparation.
“Thank you,” Bobbi said.
Hecate sat at attention, watching her allies. She wasn’t usually the one to call such meetings, but after the events of late…
“This is about Skylar, isn’t it?” Bobbi asked. This was her first time actually attending since joining their band.
“Who’s Skylar?” Drake asked, seated far from his usual perch, at the perfect placement not to be in Bobbi’s eyeline.
“Skylar is my goddaughter,” Hecate explained, “And she recently saved Bobbi from strangulation.”
“How?” Samson asked.
Bobbi looked at Hecate for prompting.
Maybe don’t mention the rate of the burn.
“She killed the vampire trying to kill me, to ashes.”
“A pyrokinetic?” Thoth asked.
“She shouldn’t be too involved with us, though Bobbi will be spending time with her—”
“Then I’m going, too,” Syren said, “Bobbi shouldn’t be left alone.”
“You’re prepping for college,” Bobbi said.
“I can do that while you hang out with the new girl.”
“Skylar’s diurnal,” Hecate noted, “So she won’t be spending all her time with Bobbi.”
“Singe can do it,” Sebastien said.
“What?” Bobbi asked.
“I understand you’re on bad terms with him, but he doesn’t have anything he’s busy with, and he can keep this girl from being eaten by vampires.”
“I can check her for any celestial ancestry should I be allowed to meet her,” Drake said, “But I second Singe’s nomination.”
“And just how would you check that?” Bobbi asked.
“By scent.”
“I don’t think we need her to have anymore vampire interactions anytime soon. I think the fire stuff is enough for now.”
“Is there any reason my nephew shouldn’t keep an eye out for her?” Sebastien asked.
Skylar had already met Singe. Hecate had caught that detail while baking cookies with her. He made her uncomfortable, guilty even, but before she found out his identity, she’d enjoyed his company.
“I believe it would work out well.”
“In less pleasant news,” Vlad revealed, “Court Dracula plans to take over the area, using me as an excuse. We generally remain benign, but it means the Brotherhood may act up in a bid to keep their territory. Court Dracula also assumes Bobbi is my paramour, so she may be targeted further.”
“What the fuck!”
“I think that means you should return to keeping an eye on Bobbi,” Thoth proposed, “If they want you back, they won’t harm someone you care about.”
“Or they’ll attack me more,” Bobbi countered, “And I don’t need an escort. You’ve seen me handle vampires no problem.”
“Then how did one get close enough to strangle you?”
“I’ll keep my wand on me, okay?”
Probationary independence for now,” Hecate offered, “But if it turns out you need the help, we’ll assign a guardian again.”
“I can accept that.”
It was about time we brought the Elementals into the mix, or at least the two that were around. I've been waiting for Singe and Skylar's first meeting for a long time. These kids have a long way to go.