25. Dogma

I paused nervously outside the double doors to a club and decided to smoke before I went in. I needed time to adjust my face and demeanor to exude something that wasn't anxious driven.

I had needed a night to myself, which had resulted in me having to sneak out. Seth was so worried about me being away from him lately that he was treating me like a child, so I figured I could go ahead and act like one.

All that I wanted was a night. I was dressed to kill and ready to rage without anyone close to me looking over my shoulder.

A group of people walked by and went inside, except for the last one. He paused and stared at me as the door shut in his face. "You playing tonight?" he asked as if we knew each other.

"Nope." I wasn't sure who was. I wasn't even sure how I'd found this place. I'd left my home with the intention of going to a show, and somehow the road led me here.

He was openly eye fucking the shit out of me. "Cool," he said with a smile.

He held the door for me as we went inside and I immediately liked this place. It was dark, dank and had this techno-goth feel. The air was thick with the scent of whiskey and clove smoke, Marilyn Manson was playing low through the speakers saying, "Burn the witches, burn the witches."

I was being marked conspicuously from all directions; a girl near the stage, a girl behind the bar, a girl by the pool table.

Witches.

We could feel each other.

I met each pair of eyes with my head high, slow and may be their place, but tonight it belonged to me. Every single bit of my being was absolutely buzzing with magic, and they were barely blips on my supernatural radar.

I had been contemplating if I would actually drink tonight. I was alone and had to drive myself home, so getting plastered was out of the question... but I could down a few and still be fine to drive.

I went up to the one bartender that recognized me for what I was. "Cherry vodka," I ordered, holding up three fingers. You'll regret it if you fuck with me tonight.

"Liz Collins?!" a random guy asked, pushing the stool beside me out of the way. "Wow! What are you doing here?" I looked him over and was reminded of that pick-up artist term: peacocking. From the mohawk-slash-bandana combo to the machine cut sleeves of his partially open "rock" vest, it was very clear this guy was looking for attention.

I smiled. "Just came to see the show." Stick around for a while. This one could get wild.

"Will you sign me?" he asked. "I'm a huge fan!" There was a hint of New York in his voice.

"Of course," I replied.

He asked a passing shooters girl for a marker before turning back to me. "I'll get this tattooed on me," he promised.

"Cool." And kind of weird.

He told me his name was Frank and a ton about himself - he was from Staten Island, played guitar for a band, and had an eleven year old son. He seemed super nice. I would have paid better attention had I not been being watched so closely by the trio of women whose eyes kept shifting back to me. They were trying so hard to keep their cool, but I could feel the tension aimed at me.

And I liked it. I liked the knowledge that they were frightened and intimidated by me. It reaffirmed what my instincts were telling me; something was going to go down, and I was going to win. Their fear fueled my confidence.

I was tossing back a shot when I had to really ask myself how I was going to handle this. Was I ready to take a life if I had to? Would doing so make me a monster?

I shuddered. I didn't want to be that person. I would defend myself and I would defend others, but I wasn't willing to compromise for murder over some magical bullshit that I just happened into a few weeks ago.

I didn't want to be like Darrell.

I started to feel funny. Tired, like I could just fall over into this chair and pass out cold. Slow, like a thick fog creeping in. Sloppy, like I had no control of myself at all. No way were three shots responsible for this.

That fucking bartender had drugged me.

I started fighting it. I'd been slipped on before and had tranquilized myself plenty of times, but I had never attempted to stay awake through it. It wasn't easy - my body slumped into a seat, head kept tipping over to one side or the other, my mouth actually popped open a few times even though my eyes were open. It took so much longer than it should have to pull my phone from my small purse, and then I couldn't even unlock it to call for help.

"Are you okay?" a feminine voice inquired from just behind me. "Let me help you."

My head flopped onto her shoulder as she assisted me across the wide room to a bathroom. Her magic was like a sweaty stink that clung to her skin, dirty at its core.

She threw me into the corner of the bathroom like a sack of potatoes. I could hear the loudness of the club as the door opened again, another witch or two joining us in this small space.

"You sure she's out?"

"Look at her." I felt something lightly push at my shoulder and I was suddenly on my back.

"She's a junkie, though."

"I'm aware. I gave her plenty."

"What are we going to do with her? Can we kill her right here?" This voice was unique, because you could actually hear the stupid in it.

"No, idiot!" one of the others shrieked. "You're going to take her to Lira."

"I am?" stupid voice asked.

"Yes. We have to get her to your car."

I was lifted up precariously and taken away. They thought I was asleep, and I was damn close but no way was I letting them do something to me. I was biding my time, trying my hardest to conjure up the energy necessary to move on my own.

They set me upright in a vehicle. My charade wasn't difficult as my body was completely limp anyways; they attempted to pose me, and then just decided to say that I was passed out drunk if we were stopped for any reason.

I was looking at a divide and conquer. Three witches all at once with me in this state of drowsiness? Probably a bad idea. But as soon as I was able...

We were traveling now, just the one stupid chick and I. I gathered every ounce of power within myself and finally opened my eyes. "Thanks for the lift, babe," I told her, my voice much stronger than expected.

She began to scream just before I clapped my hands to her head and something inside of me pulled at the source of her power. It wasn't much, but the magic flowed straight from her to me, nestling itself inside of me where it allowed itself to be reformed into who I was. Her car slowly drifted off into a drainage ditch.

She was alive but passed out. Bitch was lucky I didn't slit her throat.

I left her there. Just got out of the car and walked the short distance back to the club. I was still a little wobbly, but the addition of power and my adrenaline had combined into enough of a recharge to stay upright.

I threw the doors of the club open and a feral, commanding voice rose from my own throat. "OUT!"

Everything went quiet for a moment, and then every single patron in the place started to clear out without question. The man I had spoken to briefly outside was the last person out, and he shut the door behind him.

I made a little fire in my palm as I stalked closer to the two remaining witches. "Let's play a game," I said nonchalantly, physically tossing the fire up into the air like a rubber ball.

They exchanged a loaded glance with one another. "So you are like us," the bartender said.

"I'm nothing like you," I snapped. "You're nothing like me."

"You're Dark," she said.

I felt pretty fucking dark; I felt enraged. I quenched the fire in my fist, crossed the room and wrapped my fingers around her throat. I picked her up and slammed her down on the bar. I was so close to pulling a Darrell and spitting in her face. "Cunt," I growled. "You drugged me so you could kill me without me fighting back."

The other one suddenly jumped onto my back, and I had to let go of the first to fling the second off of me.

"Cohibete!" the bartender yelled towards me. I was suddenly stuck in place, like my feet had been super-glued to the floor.

That was a mistake on her part, and I intended to show her that. Her magic wasn't strong enough to hold me for more than a few seconds.

"You want to play with magics, bitch?" I could feel the Earth willingly sharing it's energies with me, filling me. "Serpentes, venit. Slither libere. Tolle inimices meis."

Forming out of thin air, snakes suddenly covered the floor, the bar. They even hung from the rafters and off of three of us. I was perfectly comfortable with that, but the other girls were screaming in horror and losing their shit. I used the momentary distraction to poke around a bit at the powers they radiated. I figured there was no harm in taking them into myself... so I did. Just sucked them right out of the air.

I was floating, both metaphorically and literally. The drugs were wearing off but weren't gone, and the addition of power had taken me into the air as my skin glowed radiantly.

"Nube discussa!" The bartender was yelling as she threw snakes across the room. It had no effect; she was completely powerless now, but she kept trying. "Conteram incantatores!"

I repeated her words and the snakes disappeared into tiny poofs of dust. I clapped my hands together once and produced a huge fireball, one big enough to take this whole building down in minutes.

"Say goodnight," I told them.

"No!" the bartender cried as the other girl yelled, "Please!"

I hesitated, then stopped completely. These chicks had royally pissed me off, but I was in no danger from them now. If ever there was a time to exercise control over my temper, now had to be it.

The fire faded on its own. "Alright, ladies. I'll let you live today... but you still have to pay." I focused very hard on this place back home, this abandoned mine opening that I'd stumbled upon when I was eleven or twelve. It was about three miles deep in the woods from any direction. I held the image in the forefront of my mind as I smiled at them. "Enjoy your trip!"

They gawked at me, and then they were gone.

I dropped to my knees and stared at my hands on the floor. I felt completely drained, but not of magic... there was a familiar rock in my gut as my brain screamed at me.

I was already running to my car when I realized I didn't have my purse, which meant I didn't have my keys. I was crying and shaking, totally out of control. The handle on my car door sparked when I touched it and immediately popped open, despite it being locked moments before. I climbed in and ripped the glove box open, searching out an emergency cigarette. It lit itself between my lips as my car roared to life.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" I yelled, my wrists colliding with the steering wheel. "Fuck..." I was spiraling out, recalling every bad decision I'd ever made. Coming here tonight being one of them, having a magical slapdown and teleporting two helpless girls to the middle of Bumfuck being two and three. Just... fuck.

I was like them. I was fucking terrible.

I wiped my tears away and started out of the parking lot.