Today, there would be no angst. Mel would not allow it. This was an angst-free zone. The Angst Prohibition was in effect. If her body was a temple, then angst was sacrilege. No pining, no existential crises, no arguing the merits and disadvantages of using weaknesses in the time-space continuum to fix your relationship problems.
Today, there would only be demon-slaying. Empowered witches using literal powers. For the good of humanity. It sounded so epic when put like that, though in reality it never seemed quite so grand because nobody knew about it , except people who expected it of them—
Ahem. Today, that was okay, it was water under the bridge, because there would be no angst. They were going to vanquish Fitela.
Because if they didn't do that today , Mel was going to vanquish her little sister first. Maybe there was a fourth secret sister out there somewhere and the trio status could remain. They could do a little swaperoo.
The younger segment of the Charmed Ones had been needling and poking at each other all week, with no discernible point of origin other than boredom and maybe some lingering, unprocessed feelings about a certain detective, for both of them. More than once, it had devolved into shouting matches ended by slamming doors. Macy had deployed her best peacekeeping tactics, but even she wasn't immune to the shadow of the two little stormclouds that had become her housemates, and it wasn't Mel and Maggie had been kind towards their referee.
So yeah. They all could do with some demon vanquishing action, please and thank you.
Harry was worried. "Are you ladies sure you're feeling okay?"
Macy pinned him with a baleful look. "Ask us that one more time, Harry."
The sisters stood with a plainly awkward distance between them, a miniature live action Orion's Belt constellation across the attic floor. Mel wore a pair of black jeans, her black combat boots (typically reserved for bar nights), and a dark gray jacket over a black t-shirt. Somehow she must've anticipated different wardrobe needs than her sisters, who were just wearing sneakers, blue jeans, and bright Hilltowne U shirts, one magenta and the other green. Whatever. Not that all-black was necessarily out of the realm of her daily outfits anyway, but she knew it looked like a symptom of their household turmoil as they stood with three sets of arms crossed, waiting.
A purple shower of light announced Charity's arrival ( on ET, or Elder Time, as they'd taken to calling her fashionably late appearances). She didn't seem to notice the sartorial or psychic awkwardness of the room, or if she did, the Elder ignored it. "All right. Is the wolf bedded down?"
"Looks like it," confirmed Harry after a little clear of his throat. "The divination has been still for about an hour."
Charity held up a duffel bag, and like a medieval Mary fucking Poppins, began pulling ornate weapons out of it, "Just in case you want to use any of these. Some witches think of weapons as crutches, but honestly, even Angels use them, and if it helps achieve a goal..."
Mel didn't catch the rest of the hoity ramble as she picked up a smallish crossbow and turned it over in her hands. While the bow and mechanisms themselves appeared handmade, the bolts were clearly not of this world-metal, but swirling with changing color even when sitting still in their quiver. She gingerly touched the living metal, smiling in spite of her mood when a little spark of magical energy shot up her arm at the contact. The charge hit her brain and the answer to her unspoken question somehow manifested itself without the need for assistance: Infusion enchantment. Whitelight and gold bolts, for use against dark creatures. She jerked her hand back, but felt a thrill of pride at the passive evolution of her divination abilities.
"That's Athena's crossbow," offered Charity, setting the emptied bag on the floor.
" Athena ? Like the Greek goddess?" Mel didn't care that she was spluttering; that type of factoid was a stark reminder of their destiny: The most powerful witches in history. But there again was the Charmed Ones' duality, because Charity said it with the tone and level of boredom of someone identify the pair of scratchy socks their grandmother had given them for their birthday.
"Quite a moody lady," replied the Elder with a wink. "If you like it, you can keep it. It's very nice for quick defense, better than guns, that's for sure." For reasons unknown to Mel, Charity glanced at Harry as she said the last part.
Maggie frowned the entire time she considered the cache, but she ultimately decided to drag a thick knife out of the pile and hang its sheath's long strap around her shoulders, like a satchel at her hip. Macy politely declined, and Mel didn't miss the tiny smile that that choice brought to Harry's face. She filed that away for later analysis.
Their brilliant plan this time around amounted to three steps: One, wait for it to settle down. Since they knew what it was, they felt better about popping into the woods with it. Or, they felt better about that than trying to follow it into a Norse dimension. Two, set it on fire. Magical fire, that is; the sisters had been practicing the spell all week. Fitela would have to remove the cloak, at which point: Three, recapture him in human form to return to the Elders for safekeeping and imprisonment. Additional steps may include: Don't get eaten.
They chose a new moon night. Fitela's powers would be at their weakest, and though the Charmed Ones would be a little weaker too, they weren't nearly as reliant on lunar energy for their power (according to Charity). Something to that effect. Mel wasn't too interested in the magical backstory this time. Crossbow v. demon wolf was going to be the highlight of her week, no matter the academic details.
Harry landed them about a hundred feet away from Fitela's divined location amongst thick trees, the mismatched quintet moved quietly towards him, faces growing tighter as they went.
It took about as long to reach the wolf as it did for Mel's eyes to adjust to the unrelenting darkness. Just as she was able to make out the starlight on individual leaves, she also saw a hulking shadow beyond them, like the forest floor itself was breathing . The group stopped. Best Mel could see, Fitela was reclined in a small clearing, the space barely big enough for him from snout to tail.
They split into two groups for the next part, Mel and Macy getting as close as they could while Maggie hung back with Charity and Harry, curling a little around the front of Fitela. At the moment the wolf's head lifted, Mel heard the whoosh of air, the sound of Maggie lighting the faefire, and green light sprung up from across the clearing. That directed the beast's head towards the trio, and it was completely unprepared for the swing of Macy's arm from the other direction; its huge body jerked to one side, a thunderous snarl ripping through the night before Mel froze it in place, feet suspended in the air. The force of Fitela's resistance nearly drove her to a knee, but she sucked in a sharp breath and surged forward, allowing just a stutter of movement before the wolf froze again. One of Charity's streams of purple electricity joined the effort, splitting a tree on its way to wrapping around the beast's chest.
"Pull!" called Macy, and Maggie threw a burning branch into the air… poorly. It crashed into a tree and crumpled to the ground before Macy could redirect its flight, lighting more fire and, much to her immediate disappointment, illuminating Mel and Macy's location.
"Nice job." Somehow, Mel found the time and headspace to hurl her ire at her sister even as the wolf broke free and lunged at her, the closest target. Macy drove it to one side, but could not stop it completely, and the tip of one of its long claws caught Mel's leg before it went crashing past. The force of just that much impact sent her sprawling across the ground as pain lanced through her thigh, and she imagined that this must be what it felt like to get clipped by a bus before her cheek collided with the ground.
Yelling rang over over Mel's head as she tried to catch her breath, the trees tilting in her vision. Another flying branch went by, and then darted in a straight line away. Mel heard the wolf roar, and the sound came closer. With some difficulty, she looked down her body to see it airborne and incoming, paws out, thick claws reaching for her. Her hands found the crossbow wedged against her side, and she spun it, pulled back the mechanism, and released without aiming; Fitela was close enough anyway. The whitelight bolt struck it in the shoulder, knocking the wolf just enough off course that she could roll away before those paws caught her again. Someone's hand closed around her shoulder and tugged her to a sitting position while the wolf whined and rubbed the burning spots on its legs against the ground.
The burst of purple lightning from over her head slammed into the beast so hard its teeth crackled even after the bolt faded, its body arching and writhing, muscles out of control.
"You've got to get up. Get up, get up, get up," gasped Charity, yanking on her jacket with her free hand until the witch made it up to on shaky feet.
Mel looked down and registered three deep grooves in her jeans, sticky and dark with her blood. That nearly made her knees give, but the Elder's grip was firm, and she tossed another lightning bolt before half-walking, half-dragging Mel over to where they'd set the main fire. Harry pressed his open palm over her thigh, pristine light surrounding the wound, and her sisters moved in front of her, hands held tightly.
Fitela had recovered and rocked back up onto his feet, now slowly moving in a curve around them.
Macy shifted her feet so that she blocked Harry and Mel from the wolf no matter where it stalked, and something about looking up at her sister's determinedly straight spine, hands on hips, protective and fierce… for a moment, for a nanosecond ripped from a better world, Macy's form became Marisol's, like the time she'd protected her daughters from a feral dog in much the same way, offering her body as the final protectionist sacrifice. Out of love. Warmth and gratitude swelled in her chest simultaneously with a sensation that could only be called power . She pushed Harry's hand aside when the skin of her wound closed and grabbed one of Macy's hands. Maggie took the other.
The wolf lurched into a run towards them again.
Charity lifted a thick knot of green-burning branches and leaves.
Describing the sensation of the Power of Three in a way that did it justice would be impossible; Mel had never even tried out loud. She imagined the pulling feeling in her chest like a deep, strong tree root, encapsulated in the unseeable stuff of life, drawing it in from every pore and with every breath. Their hands glowed green where they touched, and electricity prickled across her skin. Snapping jaws disappeared in the ensuing faefireball, which didn't just break apart over the beast, but wrapped over it like glue, drawing the first of increasingly loud and long shrieking whines.
Rushing forward just a couple steps, Charity yelled at the immolating figure in some language that didn't register to Mel's ears.
"Take off the cloak," muttered Harry, his voice thick and horror dawning on his face as seconds ticked by, filled with the wolf's tortured cries.
"He's not going to…" Maggie put a hand over her mouth and had to look away. "He's gonna take it off, right?"
Mel steeled her jaw. This asshole had brought a lot of angst to her life, come to think of it as she watched him burn alive. She would have liked to see him under lock and key for the rest of his days, but no matter when the reaper came for him, Death would surely send him to Hell… for eternity. That sounded great, too. She lifted her crossbow and loosed another bolt before anyone noticed. It flew true, slamming into the wolf's scorched head. The thrashing beast gasped out one final whine and fell over, and the inferno jumped to a seemingly endless column. Then it was gone. A pile of ash, sparkling with green energy, lay in its wake.
Maggie's jaw dropped open. "You—Mel, why—"
"He wasn't going to take it off," replied the middle sister thinly. She refused to meet any of the barrel-eyed stares the others were sending in her direction.
After a long, awkward silence where Mel focused on making sure every fiber of her being gave off leave me the fuck alone energy, Charity stepped over to the pile of smoldering demon-wolf ashes and examined it with pursed lips.
"Okay so… that didn't go exactly to plan, but… that one's done," offered Macy, ever the reliably neutral good member of the party.
"Yeah, well, if Maggie could maybe do her one job decently, then—"
"Oh please, I'm not the one who got sliced because I was too busy being a bitch —"
Warm feelings, gone.
Macy moved between the two Veras before they could leap at each other, but the verbal insults kept flying as Harry tried yelling along to get them to stop.
It wasn't until Charity turned around and arched an eyebrow, muting both sisters, that they finally heard what she'd been muttering near the Fitela leftovers: "The weapon, from the second human victim. It's not here. It should have survived the fire, even if it were a human weapon, that's why we used it."
Mel hated being muted. She could feel her vocal chords moving, could feel the air of the words, but no sound. Not even that quiet huffing people sometimes do when they lip-sync. Fucking Charity . The witch might've gone to shake the Elder by the shoulders, but Macy pivoted her feet to stop that movement, too. "Don't," she whispered.
"And we still don't know what the weapon is?" continued Harry.
Charity murmured in the negative. The difficulty of the fight sat evident in the sudden hard lines of her face, the way a few locks of hair hung out of place on her forehead. "Mel, Maggie, can we behave?"
They sulkily nodded their heads, and Mel said, "Thank you," just to make sure everything was still working. Then, she pressed on: "If we don't know what it is, then we don't know if it's something he would have hidden or—or sold, maybe. But we got the demon, so do we really need to still worry about that?"
The Elder produced a brandless plastic baggie from her pocket ( "ElderBasics, instant delivery," Mel thought absently) and scooped Fitela's remains into it. "I suppose that's one way to look at it. Whatever it was, it obviously wasn't enough to save him."
When the older members of the hunting party leaned their heads together to examine the ashes, Mel and Maggie exchanged dueling glares behind their backs.
June, 2017
"Hap-py Pride!"
Mel startled at the kazoo honk that followed Maggie's overly eager greeting. She tried her best to smile, accepting the myriad rainbow accessories shoved into her hands even as she tried to pull her keys out of the front door. Niko chuckled behind her and caught a bright bandana as it tumbled, unfurling it to stuff into her back right pocket with a wink at her girlfriend.
"Thanks for the swag, Little Vera," greeted the officer, side-hugging Maggie around the shoulders before moving further into the foyer to set down their empty cooler. Michigan didn't always have summery Pride weather, but this year it was hot enough that Niko wore a pair of high-waisted denim shorts that showed off her endless golden legs, in rare form since she'd been training to apply for a detective position. Maggie had talked her into rainbow suspenders after some token resistance (" Honestly it makes me feel really old, I wore these to my first pride and that was 14 years ago" ), and under these was a white t-shirt with black lettering that just said DIVINE.
Maggie's outfit almost matched Niko's, though her shirt was just plain black, and the two of them cheerfully commiserated over the coincidence for a few minutes while loading the cooler with Gatorade and alcohol. Marisol had done two annoying things leading to this current, ultimate annoyance. One, she'd asked if Maggie could go with Mel to Pride. Two, she'd done it in front of Niko, who volleyed an enthusiastic affirmative back to Marisol before Mel could even open her mouth to protest. The officer had an unrelenting desire to make Marisol happy, a drive which the matriarch was more than happy to stoke when it suited her, from forcing sister bonding time like this to maybe occasionally doing some free yardwork. If Mel took a step back from her own general irritation with having her life so often interrupted by her family, she knew it was a good thing that her partner wanted to make a good impression on the family. She just wished the officer was slightly less committed.
This was their first Pride as a real couple, and she'd really been looking forward to a day essentially consisting of eating carnival food, drinking ridiculous Pride specials, watching the parade, and a lot of making out. The second and last of those would probably be significantly hampered by her baby sister's presence.
All of that was to say, Mel was not in the cheeriest of moods.
Niko hauled the full cooler up onto one hip and carried it out to the car while the sisters considered each other awkwardly from across the foyer.
"I'm not trying to ruin your day, you know," said Maggie when she heard the trunk of Mel's car open. "Mom wouldn't let me go without a chaperone, and it's fun."
"Yeah, because you somehow sneeze near a food cart, and suddenly you have your hands on alcohol." Mel rolled her eyes, daring her sister to call any word of that a lie.
"If you didn't want me to come, you should have said something."
"If you wanted to come, you should've asked me first, instead of making Mom guilt Niko into it."
The younger Vera sighed and crossed her arms. "Whatever, Mel. I'm going to have a good time today, and I hope you join us."
Niko popped back into the house with an oblivious smile, looking at least a little reddened from the effort. "Ready?"
The detective and Maggie chattered excitedly about the day's events, such as the "Gayest Dog Contest", as Mel drove them down to City Hall. The Pride area was a blocked off grid of streets around that and other government buildings, more like a block party than other park-based festivals. They staked out a spot in front of the main stage, where a drag queen and king duo were performing a Kehlani song that had the crowd melting, raining dollar bills on the stage. Mel laid out their blanket on the concrete while Niko parked the cooler and Maggie… Maggie's face was alight with joy as she dragged her eyes over the crowd.
"The crowd's not the show," sighed Mel, tugging on her arm when she was done with the blanket. "Don't gawk."
"People watching is the best part," argued Niko with a wry smirk, and Maggie stuck her tongue out at Mel over the officer's back before plopping down.
Admittedly, Mel was finding it difficult to hold onto her anger, at least in a general sense, as she sipped a Miller Lite and applauded the performers when the song ended. Adorable teenagers, decked out in even more obnoxious rainbow than they were, chased each other around the back of the performance area, watched with amusement but not bothered by the volunteers standing nearby. Everyone was out in their queer best, feeling good, sharing a ritual that was rife with competing opinions and approaches, but ultimately was just… community. From the sporty-looking, unfriendly butches sharking around their beautiful, elegant femme girlfriends to the fuzzy-chested daddies holding a gag play workshop at their booth. A community of people whose happiest pastimes and relationships were often hidden... but not today.
Maggie got up to go buy food, solemnly promising she wouldn't stray or let someone charm her into their car, and Mel yanked Niko down to lay next to her on the blanket.
"You gotta be nicer to your sister," said Niko through a smile, somehow conveying both a scolding and breathless tone as Mel kissed along her neck. "All her friends are leaving town for college, and she's sad."
Mel growled and pulled her head back. "Can we not talk about my sister right now?"
To accentuate her point, she slid a hand under Niko's shirt to glide along twitching muscles in her stomach.
Niko pushed herself up onto one elbow, still grinning, but with a hint of exasperation. "Babe… don't be like that. We'll have plenty of time to celebrate pride the cuffed way tonight. We'll drop her off before dinner. Just be nice while she's here. Remember she's struggling right now."
"I don't even know why you know things about her and I don't."
"She's seventeen," laughed Niko. "Sora was worse. So emo ." She leaned over to press her lips against Mel's, her free hand curling over her hip to bring them closer. "I'm just the lady that hangs around and dates her sister, it's easier to talk to me. She wants you to think she handles everything perfectly, because you're her big sister and she wants to impress you. Trust me."
"Funny way of showing it," muttered Mel, but her inner fire did die down at the revelation. Just a little.
"Where is she, anyway?" Niko craned her neck up to look in the direction of the food trucks, and Mel watched as her face tightened into a frown.
"What?"
"I think… is she talking to that protestor?"
Mel shot upright and followed Niko's gaze to where Maggie stood stiffly next to the barricade that separated Pride from the token protestors holding up signs warning sodomites and women who went to college that they were bound for Hell. One of them, a man with white-gray hair visible from this distance, seemed to be exchanging words with her. It did not look like a calm exchange, with some volunteers beginning to watch and speak nervously into their walkie talkies.
They were both on their feet in a second, cooler forgotten as they jogged towards the scene.
Don't feed the protestors , Mel could've sworn she warned her sister in the days leading up to this. As they got within a few feet, she could make out the conversation.
"...abomination in the eyes of the LORD. There's no amount of brainwashing that can change that."
"Oh okay, 2003 called and they want their bullshit back, cabrón."
She noticed he was wearing a MAGA shirt just as the next words came out of his mustache-shaded mouth:
"Is this your dyke family? Figures. Are all of you faggot anchor babies?"
"Hey! You can't yell that stuff, protest area or not," barked Niko, using her cop voice despite her outfit and putting her body between Maggie and the man. "That's enough."
"This is America, dyke cunt. U-S-A," he snarled at the officer's back as she turned away, putting two hands on Maggie's shoulders. The younger sister seemed inclined to stay and continue the confrontation, stuck in a silent battle as she stared down the protester over Niko's shoulder.
Mel moved closer, grabbing her sister's hand. "Maggie, it's okay. Just ignore them. They just want to get a rise out of you. Let's just go enjoy the show."
The man had started screaming "Build the wall!" at them in the background.
"The things he said," hissed Maggie, finally allowing her feet to move away from the man and the three buddies that had shown up to join his chant. "Fuck, and this stupid Trump shit."
It did hurt, beyond what she thought when the campaign had started, because it had been relentless for what seemed like years by now, flames fanned by mainstream institutional "validation". Mel felt the tug of fear in her stomach, but Maggie was too freaked out for that right now.
Security had circled closer to them, nobody making any sudden movements, and the three women were almost in the clear when a yell rose above the chant: "Hey senoritas, stop by to clean my mom's house later and I'll put an anchor baby in you. Arriba!"
This was accompanied by a soft cracking sound and a splash of something cold and sticky, and Mel looked down to see a broken styrofoam container of white cheese dipping sauce… "queso"... resting against her sandals. Her mouth dropped open in shock, and then a high-pitched noise took over her hearing, her vision turning red around the edges as she turned to face the cackling men. Later, when she processed this moment, she knew she would've (at least tried to) physically harm the protesters if her girlfriend hadn't beat her to it.
Niko was too fast for security, too. Covered in splatters of cheese and bits of beef, she launched herself over the barricade and full body tackled the ringleader to the concrete while the rest scattered, getting chased by security and uniform officers assigned to the event. Mel and Maggie ran up behind her, and with no one else paying attention, they each delivered a swift kick to his side before Niko was able to push them away with one hand, holding the man's head down with the other and her knee in his back.
"Hamada," said one of the unis, approaching and giving the Vera sisters a sheepish look before glancing back at his fellow officer. He handed her the handcuffs from his hip. "Nice takedown."
"I'm not on duty," said Niko even as she accepted them.
"Yeah, but you can do it anyway if you want. I'll write the report—saw the whole thing by the way. Assault's the charge."
Niko nodded gratefully and cuffed the protestor, leaning down to hiss something that sounded generally ominous in his ear before easily hauling him to his feet and handing him off to the uniformed officer, who introduced himself to the sisters as Trip Bailey, a fellow detective rank contender at HPD. He got them towels to wipe off the cheese.
"You okay?" asked Niko, straightening her suspenders when she was finished and giving Maggie a concerned look. " Really okay?"
"I'm fine. They were a live action Twitter troll feed," muttered the teenager. " Pinche pendejos ."
"Mel?"
"Yeah… my heart's racing a bit."
Maggie agreed, and they stood watching the men get hauled away for a few minutes, holding hands as a trio. When everything had died down, Mel felt the knot of fear in her chest loosen. A couple drag queens blew kisses at the departing police vans. A gaggle of men in short shorts crowded Officer Trip Bailey, applauding his apparent heroism (and muscles) as he "aw shucks" smiled back at them. They were fine. For now.
Niko's hand squeezed hers gently, and she met her girlfriend's soft brown eyes. "You sure you're okay? We can leave, if…"
"No way, that's what he would've wanted." Mel let go of her sister's fingers to fold her arms around Niko's neck, grinning. "And honestly, babe… that tackle may have been the hottest thing I've ever seen."
Maggie threw her hands out and made a disgusted noise. Niko's cheeks burned red, but she pulled Mel in close for a quick kiss before escorting them (with a lot of extra swagger to her steps) to the food trucks, one arm over the shoulders of each sister.
"Hey Niko! Over here!"
The detective swiveled her eyes until she found the source of the voice, giving Perry a quick wave before carefully picking her way across the restaurant and sitting down. She hadn't been to Texas Roadhouse in years, but apparently Perry's diet required a lot of steak intake, so Niko tried not to wrinkle her nose at the bucket of roasted, salted peanuts sitting on the table. Down the row of booths, some poor soul was being forced to sit on a saddle and wear a cowboy hat while his friends and several waitresses sang Happy Birthday. This scene qualified under the "what fresh hell" category for the detective, and not only because of the birthday boy's torture or the entrees drowning in cream gravy.
Perry had texted her starting at 6:13 that morning, insisting they have dinner after work. That wasn't unusual per se, but after her last encounter with Mel, Niko was not keen on the idea of facing her old friend. The guilt had already practically gnawed an ulcer into her stomach.
She met Perry's eyes with some difficulty after ordering a salmon salad and an IPA from the waiter. They conducted a few minutes of easy small talk, but eventually, Perry sat back in her seat and pinned Niko with a look .
"What's on your mind?" asked the detective, proud of how casual her voice sounded despite her racing pulse.
"Do you want me to say it outright or dance a little first?"
Niko shrugged. Fuckfuckfuckfuck...
"I told Mel I loved her last week."
One didn't need to be a detective to tell that conversation didn't end well based on Perry's posture and tone.
"You know what she said? Nothing. You know what she's said to me since then? Nothing." Perry put her head in her hands. "I feel so stupid. When we're together, she's with me, you know? But that other day…" Perry swiped at her eyes and coughed. "She didn't even think to tell me she'd been hurt or that she was okay."
Niko waited for what she thought might be the next clause, and you didn't tell me either , but somehow that was where Perry stopped. In hopes of cutting off that line of thinking before the trainer caught on, she blurted, "I was stopping by to talk about her mom's case."
"Her mom's case? I thought her mom died in an accident?"
Oops . Hamada, shovel, hole. "Well, yeah, she did. The sisters just had some more questions, I figured I could help them out, reviewed some records."
Perry's devastated expression sent another pang of guilt through Niko's already-pained chest. "She didn't tell me about that either! What am I doing wrong? Is this controlling of me?"
A few of their neighboring patrons were glancing over at their table with annoyance or nosy interest, and Niko glared at them until they looked away before speaking again: "Those sisters seem like a tight group. Maybe she's just not used to sharing with a new person, someone who isn't living in a house with her. Things that seem obvious to you to share, maybe they aren't obvious to her." A brutal concussion is universally obvious though , she didn't say.
"Maybe." Perry took a long drink of water, sniffling and staring at the white tablecloth. "But what am I supposed to do now? What if she just never calls me again? Do you think she'd do that?"
Niko reached across the table to put a hand on her friend's annoyingly muscular forearm. "Mel might think you don't want her to call, if that last chat went bad. Text her, but only when you feel like you can talk about it without being mean or resentful, okay?"
Perry nodded like a kid agreeing to eat vegetables, her finger tracing a natural knot in the wooden table. "She said that her last relationship ended because she was bad at communicating and had a lot of fear. It just seems like she'd doing that to me now."
"Her ex? Do we know her?"
"Oh, uh… I don't know. She's never said a name. I think it was a really long time ago?" Perry shrugged. "You're right, though. You're always right. I wish I could find someone who fits me like you and Greta fit."
Niko used every ounce of self control to prevent her expression from so much as twitching in response to that.
Mercifully, waitresses interrupted to drop off their food, and Perry somehow made cutting into a huge strip steak look like a sad, depressing task. The trainer had a good heart, but also a perpetually young one; even though she'd moved on from her younger years of rapid-fire "situationships", these days "I love you" after two months of casual dating was pretty standard for Perry Trudeau, no matter how many times the friend group tried to warn her.
"Look, Per… I love you, dude, and I totally get that when something scary happens, you want to take that opportunity to tell people things, make sure nothing's taken for granted, right?" Niko idly noted as she spoke that Perry and Mel were, at the very least, well matched on the appetite front, evidenced by how the trainer inhaled her steak and mashed potatoes. "But Mel really had a tough day, she was confused, things were really scary with a lot of blood and people around. I think maybe it just wasn't the right moment. Yeah? You guys will be fine." Her outer monologue was followed by a sharp inner one: You are an almost-cheating, homewrecking monster, Hamada .
"I guess," replied the green-eyed woman sulkily, but with less misery. "That makes sense."
Fairly certain that Mel hadn't said anything to Perry about the moment in the car (least of all because she seemingly hadn't said anything to Perry at all since that day), Niko allowed herself to relax, and the night went back to feeling like a normal Drinks & Dinner with her old friend. They finished their dinner over much lighter topics, from the latest gossip of power-hungry trainers in Perry's CrossFit Box to the most recent season of Supergirl, replete with maddening SuperCorp teasing ( "I could totally take Melissa's biceps to the next level, but not like, too much" was Perry's solemn conclusion).
By the time they finally left their table and headed out to the parking lot, the sky had fully darkened to night.
"Thanks again! I needed that," called the trainer as she veered towards her car. "You're the best."
"Anytime," Niko replied, feeling strangely refreshed and recommitted to never fucking up like she had with Mel ever again. She checked her phone as she slid back into her car.
6:40 Wifey: Text me when you're on your way home 6:43 Wifey: We were supposed to talk tonight 6:44 Wifey: Please don't get drunk with P. This is importantHer good mood came crashing down. Right. Greta.
As she debated the pettiness of refusing to notify Greta of her departure from the bar, her phone rang instead. There was a third body. Maybe she'd been a homicide detective for way too long, because she was almost relieved . Jimmy was on his way—Hilltowne Park, only a few blocks away from her current location. He hadn't arrived when she pulled her El Camino into the parking lot, but she still grabbed her service weapon and badge and stepped into the icy night air. Floodlights shining a couple hundred feet into the park helped guide her to the forensics team.
Zelda wasn't there this time, and in her stead another new face greeted the detective a she ducked under fluttering crime scene tape. The dark-haired, pale-skinned man with a long nose introduced himself as Laurel, "the new tech from Detroit", and he led her to where the body and the ME were waiting.
"It's a woman," the medical examiner said as they approached. "No ID this time. I'd say mid-50s."
Niko's feet stuttered as the body came into view. The victim lay on her back… or what was left of it. Her head and legs were pretty much intact, but her torso was ripped completely open from shoulder to hip and emptied out , with just chunks of viscera remaining in the splinters of her ribs and spine.
"What'd they do with the organs?"
The medical examiner shrugged. "Haven't found them yet."
"This is totally different than the other two. Where's the message?"
On cue, Laurel whistled from somewhere off in the trees. Niko followed the sound another fifty feet or so, where the tech was pointing at the message and triquetra branded on a fallen tree. She bent her knees to take a look, but knew before her eyes found it that she wouldn't be able to read the script. Of course.
"And there's another one over here."
Niko glanced up, frowning. This wasn't good. "Another one? That's new."
The detective followed Laurel deeper into the woods that connected their local park with the state-owned acres that stretched north, tugging her scarf up around her mouth as the bitter night cold sent pinpricks of pain across her skin. When he stopped, he gestured to another fallen tree, and Niko stepped past him to look. She circled around the rotting log, confused when she saw nothing, and then raised her flashlight back to Laurel.
Except he wasn't there. She nearly dropped her MagLite in shock to see instead a big wolf with mottled red-gray fur staring back at her, lips curled to show massive teeth.
"Ho-ly fuck," she breathed, looking around for Laurel and slowly backing away from the creature. Her hand almost reached her gun before the thing pounced, huge paws ripping across her chest and throwing her backwards against a tree. Her head slammed into the bark with a crack that sent stars dancing across her vision , and then nothing.
"I wish we had, like, its big dumb head to put above the fireplace or something," confessed Mel with a smirk, smoke curling from her nostrils as she said it.
"Gross," protested Macy even as she accepted the smoldering joint Mel passed to her. The three sisters were holed up in the attic with all of the lights off save a couple candles, lying on their backs with their heads together.
After taking some time to decompress individually after the battle, Maggie had furiously knocked on her sisters' doors and waved a baggie of weed in their faces while yelling something about an emergency family meeting. It wasn't quite how Marisol used to do these; the matriarch Vera would typically utilize fresh baked conchas or sopaipillas to draw out her brooding daughters , but the core concept remained the same. Familiar enough that Mel didn't even put up symbolic protest to throwing a quilt around her shoulders and trudging upstairs.
Maggie took a long drag and sighed through her exhale, gaze lingering on her middle sister's face as she passed it. They both frowned and looked down at the same time, with their older sister looking on through narrowed eyes.
"What's going on with you two?" asked Macy, not accusatory, but concerned.
Mel rolled onto her stomach, resting her chin on the back of her hands. "I never would've had my jeans cut up if she could throw."
"Ah-ah!" Macy cut off Maggie's oncoming protest. "Foul on the play, Mel. You guys have been fighting for days . Don't make this about just tonight."
Twin huffs floated across the dim room. So much for the no angst day. Maggie was playing with the hem of her shirt, trying to look small. Mel's anger reached a point of sudden rawness, a cresting burn that was beginning to chew up her insides more than was worth the selfish reward of lashing out with it. Maggie had always been an easy target for her, the curse of being a younger sibling. She was always there, and she was always small. And Mel had been angry since before she could remember, for whatever reason might present itself.
And in a moment of big sister penance, seeing how Marisol might call this "the right thing to do," Mel offered her olive branch first: "I'm sorry. Between worrying about the stuff with mom and the demon wolf and Niko… I've been cranky."
Maggie scoffed around thick curls of smoke, but got a quick reprimand from Macy. After thinking for a few minutes, she let out a long clear breath. "Sometimes I can't stand all the secrets. It's really starting to mess with me. Like… Mom had sisters, and she never said anything to us. They don't even live outside of town. Who does that? Did they hate each other? Why?"
A looming silence. Mel swallowed thickly. " We will never be like that."
Macy blew an impressive cloud towards the ceiling. "I feel robbed enough to have met you guys so late."
"When I got pissy during the fight… It was like, my powers just disintegrated. But when when Harry was fixing my leg, and you were protecting us… I felt like I could have blown up Harbinger myself… so long as I had my sisters with me."
They sought each other's hands across the rug.
"New rule." Maggie's voice took on a tone of deep conviction. "No fighting demons while fighting each other."
They pinky promised on it, laughing together as the joint reached its natural conclusion and was dropped into the ashtray, a whiskey glass Mel had taken from the bar.
Then a rapid, hard knocking on their front door startled the sisters upright.
"It's almost midnight," said Macy quietly.
They crept downstairs together while the knocking kept up, and Mel winced at the volume as she looked through the peephole, and then cracked open the door.
"Detective Morris?"
"Hi," he said, a little breathless. The whites of his eyes seemed to be bulging, giving his expression a frenzied edge. "Have any of you had any contact with Detective Hamada in the last few hours?"
Mel opened the door wider, stomach hitting her feet. "No. Why? Is something wrong?"
Morris' eyes swept what he could see of the foyer, as if he expected to find Niko hiding behind the door. "Not sure. She was supposed to meet me at a scene. Nobody's seen or heard from her for a few hours. Her wife says she was having dinner with your girlfriend?"
A sudden jolt of panic hit Mel's chest. "Wait, have you checked on Perry?"
"Yeah, she's at her apartment. They left the restaurant maybe six hours ago."
"That sounds serious. I hope she's okay." Maggie reached through the door, putting her hand over Morris' even though it was a somewhat awkward reach.
Morris jerked his arm back after just a second, and he raked the fingers through his hair with a deep sigh. "Okay. Thanks, ladies. Here's my card, in case you hear from her. Contact me immediately."
"Of course."
As the door closed, Mel tried to fight the pull of angry tears against her eyes. Her instincts were screaming a red alert.
"There's a third body," announced Maggie, her voice small. "I didn't get much, but Niko disappeared from the scene."
When Harry apparated behind them, his face drawn with the burden of the bad news he carried, Mel almost froze time just to avoid hearing the words:
"We figured out why the weapon was missing. There are two wolves. And this other one has the detective."
Mel dug her nails into her palms to quell the urge to break the glass of the front door. Eyes slipping closed against the onslaught of dread, she asked, "How do you know?"
"The accompanying message of the next victim simply says, 'What will the Three give to have her back?'"
Macy sighed, low and exhausted. "A ransom note."