The Elders reminded Mel of the United States government, in a lot of ways. Almost all of them bad. They would meddle, make demands, request favors, and then lie and obfuscate and straight up deny fault in the face of the consequences. They would just walk away.
In the case of the missing Detective Niko Hamada, at least, the government was in rare form compared to the Elders. Her disappearance had hit national news given the natural clickbait elements of the case: serial killer on the loose, intrepid detective gives chase, and then she goes missing, and all of that with no suspects. The fact that the news had decided the main image they'd use of Niko was one from her 30th birthday didn't help (or did, depending on one's opinion of involuntary virality). She looked angelic in a glittery cone hat, hair perfectly straight and chin-length, smiling from ear to ear with one toned arm slung around someone who got cut out of the frame. Mel suspected Greta based on the single curl of blonde hair visible in some versions of the photo.
The tearful wife had certainly not been afraid to hit the spotlight in the mornings and on primetime shows, a performance that Mel had commented on in a fit of frustration, only to get a firm scolding from Macy for judging how Greta reacted to this. She didn't know. For all Greta could tell, her wife had been abducted by a violent madman, or worse, was already dead.
But they knew. The Charmed Ones, Harry, and the Council knew.
The sisters couldn't divine across dimensions yet , but the Elders had done some sort of whatever they did and narrowed the location down to a Norse realm called Mimir's Well. The whole realm. Somewhere. According to the Council, like most Scandinavian things, it was very cold there, but habitable for mortals. They could not discern whether Niko was still alive, or so they said.
Turned out, Charity had neglected to mention that Fitela's cloak theft had been alongside a brother, Sigmund, who the Council had lost track of centuries ago and assumed dead. Maggie had had to physically restrain Mel from launching a fireball at the Elder in response to the confession. She'd certainly let her know her feelings verbally instead, and now Charity had been more or less avoiding them ever since. The Elders refused to offer any additional assistance, but would gladly take Sigmund's cloak and the weapon back if they would be so kind as to retrieve it. Mel had half a mind to forget the Council altogether once this was finished.
Adding to the complicated road to actually making a plan, police had turned up at their house more than once, even going so far as to obtain a warrant for a basic search of the premises.
"I know you know something about this," Morris had said to Mel as uniformed officers fanned out into the house behind her. "And I'm gonna figure it out."
"Detective… I understand that you're upset—"
" Upset?"
Mel tried not to wince as the man's face came within inches of hers, every pore and blemish in perfect definition. He smelled a little bit like alcohol, which was worrisome, but she stood her ground.
"If I find out that you had so much as a whiff of information that you didn't share with me, or you're involved to the extent of so much as a fucking Facebook 'Like', I'm going to spend the rest of my career making sure we put you behind bars for the rest of your life." This was, of course, a different man entirely than the one who'd first visited their house, all smiles and attempts to keep things casual. Jimmy Morris, the distraught and lost edition, snarled and yelled and got up in faces, a walking trap for "assault on a police officer". She tried not to hold it against him; Morris was doing what he'd been taught, aggressive policing, out of want for anything else productive to do. He just wanted Niko back, too.
The sisters did their best to keep track of what the intruders were doing, following investigators from room to room. Macy and Mel occasionally used their powers to quietly slide magical items out of wandering hands. One of the technicians found Maggie's knife in her bedroom, and when Mel spotted the short woman holding it, her breath hitched. She'd never been entirely clear on whether humans could see the swirl of magic in metal like her crossbow bolts or this knife, but it looked like she was about to find out.
"Interesting," said the tech, who had brown eyes brimming with suspicion as she held up the blade to the light. "Hopefully not for any type of sorority hazing?"
Mel tried not to glare at her from the door, but was sure she'd failed.
The tech maintained eye contact as she misted the blade with a chemical, and then wiped a cotton swab over it. She looked disappointed when the swab didn't indicate the presence of blood. The witch had to admit she'd been nervous for a moment there, unsure what could have been on the knife when Charity let Maggie take it.
"Zelda, anything?" called one of the unis from the hall.
"Not yet," she replied, singsongy. Even though the police were certainly in full red alert mode, agitated and unamused, the technician 'Zelda' seemed even more hostile than anyone else, except for maybe Morris. She huffed and muttered to herself as she looked around the sisters' house, seemingly at random, ignoring anything any of her compatriots were doing in terms of a grid search or collecting evidence. Mel watched carefully from a distance as the woman searched, and it didn't take long for her to notice something particular about the way Zelda was searching. She surreptitiously called Maggie over to her and froze the visitors.
"Watch that CSI lady, the one with the hair." Mel allowed another two seconds or so to pass, the investigators continuing their movements none the wiser, then she froze them again. "See it?"
A look of almost-recognition crossed Maggie's face, her lips pursed in thought. Mel saw the moment the realization clicked, and she couldn't deny the little flutter of pride in her sister. "She's only wearing one glove."
"She's only wearing one glove," echoed Mel encouragingly. "And…?"
"Is she…?" The younger sister tilted her head. "Let me see it one more time."
Mel let go, this time allowing about five seconds to pass before freezing again.
"She's touching magical things with her free hand, and everything else with the gloved hand. Except there's no way she'd know what was what unless… unless… " A huge, triumphant smile spread across Maggie's face, and with the freeze still in place, she ran down the stairs calling for Macy.
"Wait, I just have to remember where I…" There was the sound of the phone camera "shutter effect" from the attic. "Coming!"
The sisters convened in the living room right behind the technician, and after a deep, centering breath, Mel released only Zelda. It took a couple seconds for the woman to even realize something was amiss, and then she whirled around, and—
Mel almost lost her freeze when the technician disappeared . Or so she thought, until she noticed Zelda's coveralls float to the ground, and a truly unpleasant noise broke through the air, something between a dog's whine and an angry kazoo.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," yelled Macy, holding out her palms. "No screaming! We're not going to hurt you!"
The sight might've been cute if not for the shock of it; sitting there in the pile of blue fabric was a fluffy gray fox, normal sized (thank Spirits) and with its ears pressed back tight against its skull. Sure, it had five tails, but Mel still felt like she could take it in a fight.
Thankfully, the fox stopped wailing, and instead spoke with Zelda's voice, "I knew it !"
" You knew it? We're the ones that—what are you, anyway?" Despite the situation, Mel had to resist the urge to reach out and touch the soft-looking fur on the fox's head, focusing instead on the small, sharp teeth. It really was a cute little thing, which was somewhat refreshing for magical surprises.
"Yokai. Kitsune." The fox narrowed black eyes at them. "And you—witches?"
Mel shrugged and gestured to the investigators trapped in the time space continuum around them.
"Then it was you!" The spirit sprung back into human form, coveralls and all, apparently for the sole purpose of shoving an accusatory finger in Mel's face. "You're the one."
"Me?" protested the witch. "I don't even know who you are."
"Our empath detected a powerful magical intervention in Niko's life last year. They sent me here to investigate and make sure it would stop ." Zelda's eyes had narrowed to slits, her expression darkening. "You had no right to change her timeline without her consent."
Of all the ways Mel had imagined her day going, even after the cops showed up, this hadn't even been on the radar. She stared back, jaw clenching, as she tried to even begin to formulate questions about everything those three sentences implied. Her power wavered under the weight of it, some of the officers slow-motion resuming their movements before she stopped them again, gulping a few huge breaths.
Luckily, Macy was able to tag in: "Okay, we're gonna need the SparkNotes on this."
"I work for the Kamakura Coven. Keiko Hamada, Niko's mom, was a friend of the warren, and her family is under our watch. We thought she was in trouble, and looks like we were right." Zelda lowered her arm, but her glare only deepened. "You witches have a lot of nerve."
" Excuse me ?" blurted Mel, breath sputtering. "We did the spell to protect Niko."
"And that worked so well!" snarled the kitsune. "She lives over a portal to Hell. You think she's safer not knowing, not under your protection? Obviously not."
"Then help us!" interrupted Maggie, drawing the other women's eyes to her. "Help us get her back. We can argue about the timeline spell later. Just help us. If you're supposed to be here to protect her, then we're on the same team."
The kitsune's eyes flashed to their fox form black, a snarl rising in her chest.
" Please, " said the youngest sister quietly. "Please."
After a brief staredown and with a frustrated huff, the spirit relented. She pulled a card from her boot and handed it to Mel, holding on tightly for a moment so she could search the witch's eyes before letting go. "Meet me there tonight."
Zelda had written on the back of the card in blue ink, " Lost and found." Mel turned it over and found the name, phone number, and email address of an insurance agent. Odd . Worrying her bottom lip, Mel absently brushed a thumb over the printed ink, about to ask for clarification… and then the words and numbers broke apart, swirling like bits of black glitter before settling down again. The insurance company logo had been replaced with what looked like a crest, a shield shape behind the silhouette of a crow. Underneath, it read:
A MURDER FOR THOSE WHO KNOW
2774 Main St, 2nd floor
"Clever," muttered the witch. A muscle over her eye twinged with sudden exhaustion, and she sent Macy back upstairs before concluding with Zelda, "We'll be there."
When she let go of the freeze, Zelda resumed searching as if nothing had happened, but she was wearing two gloves now.
Exhaustingly, the arrival of a new magical creature hadn't even been the last surprise of the afternoon. At some point, a vaguely familiar voice floated into the house from the front door, and Mel poked her head around the living room wall to see Rachel standing there, dressed in a charcoal pencil skirt and white blouse, her red hair tamed back into a bun. She almost laughed at the absurdity of it, because what was Niko's friend Rachel doing in her house right now?
"Mel," greeted the redhead cautiously. "So, um, Perry asked me to come down here and… make sure that things are going all right. I'm an attorney."
The witch cocked an eyebrow. "You're… here to help us?"
"Yeah, I mean, I'm a public defender, nothing fancy, but I know a thing or two about police on the warpath. Plus, Perry vouched for you, so."
That Perry . Recent events, obviously, had provided the perfect cover to avoid having A Talk with Perry about their last little exchange. When the search had started, the friend group had rushed over to Greta and Niko's house (evidenced by Greta's Tweet of a picture of them all making posters), and although Perry invited Mel "as a friend", she'd given a work excuse and avoided it. Everything had been happening so quickly since then, she honestly hadn't even thought of Perry and their whole… situation… until this very moment.
"Thank you," Mel breathed after a too-long pause, during which Rachel began to frown. "How did you guys know they were here?"
In lieu of a response, Rachel held up her phone after tapping a few times, and then turned it to show Mel the live feed of the local NBC station outside of their house , covering the search. The chyron at the bottom of the screen said, " HPD conducting search related to Hamada disappearance" .
"...Oh."
"Anything I should know?" Rachel went on, her voice pitched low to avoid the nearby officers' ears. "If I know first, I can be better prepared to help you."
The witch took a steadying breath and looked Rachel directly in the eyes. "No. Nothing."
As it turned out, Rachel's arrival served an almost immediate, pivotal purpose. Although Macy had cast a glamour over the Book when she heard the police knocking, and despite the sisters' earlier attempt to cleanse them from sight, the officers had still spotted three triquetras in the house. One in the kitchen, stitched onto a pot holder hanging from an under-cabinet hook, another embossed into the top of a small storage tin sitting on a bookshelf, and the final one in Marisol's bedroom, carved into the inner door of her wardrobe cabinet. Apparently, Morris had told the search party to be on the lookout for it, and he knew Macy had told Niko that she'd never seen it before.
That was when the Charmed Ones met Rachel Jackson, Esquire. Properly. Mel didn't even have to offer an explanation for the presence of the symbol, because PD Jackson put her body between the police and the sisters as the cuffs came out, demanding an arrest charge and supporting facts. White allyship in action. The officers technically didn't have to provide the latter at this point, but Morris and Rachel seemed to have at least a passing familiarity with each other, and he stopped the unis to answer first.
"This symbol has shown up at every crime scene, drawn by the killer. He makes a reference to three in his first message, he's left three victims. Then three sisters just happen to insert themselves in our investigation?"
"Did they?" snapped Rachel, arching an eyebrow. "Or did you visit them first?"
Morris scoffed, and his jaw kept moving, but he did not answer that. Instead, he went on: "They collect artifacts, and our first two victims smuggled them. Detective Hamada was last seen with that one's girlfriend. They lied about knowing the triquetra."
The redhead's back straightened, her head tilting in an exaggerated look of confusion. "Detective, this is a serious case, and you've got a lot of eyes on you, I know that and can appreciate the weight of the pressure on you right now. But you get reckless, start throwing out these tales, taking the investigation away from facts , and this whole thing is going to come crashing down on your head. That's not going to help any of us find Niko." Rachel gestured to the Charmed Ones. "You had enough for the warrant for the house, but for your sake, I want you to take thirty seconds to consider whether you would be able to call up a judge right now, knowing what you know, and get a proper arrest warrant. If you can't, then I want you to put those bracelets away and finish your search."
After a few-second standoff, Morris nodded, and the officers put the cuffs away. Mel let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. Eventually, every surface had been scanned by at least six sets of eyes, and the police drew their search to a disappointing conclusion.
"I'm watching you," said Morris in lieu of a farewell, the bags under his eyes taking on a new shade of purple as the day waned. "Count on it."
And that was how they lost an entire day of problem-solving the real issue.
October, 2017
"Your left, or my left?"
Niko hesitated. "Your left."
Sucking in a breath, Mel shifted her grip on the couch and turned it as directed. Mercifully, the small adjustment in angle created some magical bubble of space in the front door of their apartment, and the couch nearly toppled on top of Niko as the detective stumbled backwards. Mel recovered her grip and flashed an apologetic smile, but her girlfriend just grunted and guided them to the spot in the living room where the couch would live. They promptly collapsed onto it, and Mel allowed herself a moment to appreciate the subtle veins sticking out in Niko's arms and neck after the exertion.
"Only the rest of the entire apartment to go," joked the detective after a bit, not panting but still sounding a little winded.
Well, joking in the sense that they both began laughing, if only to stop themselves from crying, because they really did have the kitchen, guest bedroom, office, and bedroom to furnish and fill with boxes to then unpack. The third floor had seemed like a good idea for their first apartment together at the time, something about the heat rising from the apartments below during winter, but Mel had half a mind to just order everything on Amazon so the delivery person would have to take it up the stairs. Like they could afford that. The two bedroom apartment was part of a newer complex, clean and tucked in the corner of the grounds, where they had a view of a forested area to one side, and the main road on the other. It would be a bit of a financial squeeze to come up with her half of the rent until she started her professorship, but Marisol had offered to help out with any outstanding balances if she needed it before then. They'd qualified for the apartment based on Niko's new detective income alone, but Mel wasn't about to start their relationship on unequal footing. Even if that meant getting some help from mom.
Niko rolled over and draped her sticky shoulders over Mel's lap, ignoring the half-hearted slaps of protest that landed on her arms with a defiant smile as her eyes slipped closed.
"You can't take a nap after every trip," sighed the shorter woman, tangling her fingers in silky brown hair.
"Can't I?"
"The lease will be over before we even get unpacked."
Niko hummed back without any sort of clear meaning, dead weight against her girlfriend's lap.
"You're getting old. We need to work on your stamina."
That got the detective's attention. Her brown eyes opened to slits. "I'm sorry, I thought I heard — did you say, 'old'?"
"And 'work on your stamina'." Mel smirked down at the affronted expression on Niko's face.
"I'll show you gotdang stamina," growled the taller woman, sliding off of Mel's lap and down to her knees in front of the couch.
"Oh, baby, I would love that, you don't even know, but I am so sweaty right now — "
"Hush." It was Niko's turn to smirk as she hooked her arms under Mel's legs and lifted her clean off the couch, shrieking and giggling as she locked her ankles around the detective's slim hips.
"Nik, if you fucking drop me — "
"Stop squirming, then." Niko nipped at her girlfriend's collarbone, and then smiled into the kiss Mel leaned forward to give her as her wriggling slowed and stopped. "Could an old girlfriend do this?"
"Probably, depending on her workout schedule. You really shouldn't be so ageist."
"Is this really the attitude you want to take when you're at my mercy?" Niko gave her thighs a squeeze. "Relying on my stamina ?"
"Fine, let's see how long you can hold me here, my virile and young girlfriend." Mel moved her hand down the side of Niko's head, trailing fingertips across her cheekbones, nose, and lips, then down the column of her throat to her chest, covered in a soft, sweat-soaked t-shirt.
Though she hadn't vocalized this yet, she'd been surprised at her own enthusiastic acceptance of Niko's offer to get an apartment together. The thought of cohabitation used to make her roll her eyes and bring up a dozen anecdotes of people she knew who got screwed by losing deposits or paying fees for breaking leases because of bad breakups. But when the detective had nervously shown her the listing on her phone, huffing through the question so quickly Mel almost hadn't understood it… she'd responded without hesitation, like reflex. Because Niko felt a lot like gravity, like a pull that would never end, not unless the world stopped spinning and they all flew off into space.
Moving in together? As natural as the change of seasons.
When she felt the first tremor in Niko's arms, Mel quickly changed her mind. "Okay, okay, I get it, you're big and strong, you can do the lifty thing. I want you to keep some strength in these puppies." She patted taut forearms pointedly.
Somehow, Niko blushed and turned her head away at the implication, even though they'd been having sex for more than a year and a half. Regularly. The detective set her back down on the couch, draping her tall body over Mel's to hide her face in her neck. Niko could be fucking her as hard as she could one minute and hiding under a pillow the next if Mel tried to give her a compliment or ask what she wanted. It had gotten better over time, at least—the long term prognosis looked good.
"Whatcha thinking about?" the detective eventually prodded, puffing the words into her neck.
"You. Age 70. Probably ladykillin' in the nursing home, huh?" The joke tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop it, her brain defiantly throwing out a test balloon.
"Wellll… maybe. Hopefully ladykillin' just one other old bitty."
There it was. The sentiment hung heavy between them, pulling at Mel's chest and seeping warmth into her limbs.
She didn't used to think so much about her life outside of the road to tenure track. She didn't used to dream about the way her lover's laugh lines would one day become permanent, didn't used to ponder how dapper a partner would look with gray streaks around her temples. And then… Niko Hamada. Tall. Dashing. Sweet and loyal, almost to a fault.
There was also fear lurking around those thoughts. They both knew Niko had said these things, though maybe not the same words, to another woman before Mel. Had offered her forever. Hadn't yet promised it, technically, but still—that was the intent. Thinking too hard about that made Mel feel disoriented and untethered, the stab of panic before a fall.
But somehow, like always, Niko seemed to know what was rampaging through her mind. The warmth of the detective's palm on her cheek guided Mel back to the moment, and a thumb brushing over her skin grounded her there. She looked down. "Sorry."
"You don't have to apologize." Niko shifted, sitting up but keeping their legs tangled over the front of the couch. "We should talk about… that, when you're ready."
"Maybe not when we have a giant U-Haul of all of our worldly possessions downstairs?"
"Probs not." Niko leaned forward for a quick kiss, practically beaming as she pulled away. "I just… I'm so excited. We're gonna fight about wall colors and curtains and the right way to fold towels, and for some reason that makes me stupid happy."
And Mel couldn't help but smile back, for the moment forgetting those simmering, dark thoughts, because the look her girlfriend was giving her was like warmth of the sun on her face after a cold morning. She untagled her legs and stood, glancing over her shoulder to reply casually, "I brought the curtains from my room."
"No… baby, the orange ones?"
"The orange ones. They're going up somewhere in this apartment, so just start preparing yourself."
Niko groaned and Mel flicked her shoulder before hurrying towards the door, snatching the keys as she went. The taller woman easily caught up with her by the time she'd taken two steps out the front door, long arms coming to wrap around her waist from behind and swing her up one more time, around and then back down.
"Fine. But I get to put my ugly blanket in the living room," she growled, releasing her waist but holding onto one hand.
Now it was Mel's turn to groan as they headed down the stairs again. "The one your brother brought you from China?"
"Like a waterpainting in plushness. The tiger is really very regal next to the lake."
They shook on it before Niko threw open the back of the U-Haul again. Eight hours later, and they had an apartment consisting almost entirely of boxes and furniture with more boxes on top, and Mel was exhausted. Judging by the way Niko was practically slumped on her side while eating a slice of pizza, the detective wasn't faring much better. They drank Tito's straight from the bottle, eating pizza straight from the delivery box, as they lay draped over various furniture-box sculptures. Since their Internet wouldn't be turned on until the next day, Niko had plugged in their Crosley. All of their records were still boxed, but somehow they'd forgotten to take out the Leon Bridges vinyl from some previous night, and the soulful tones of his voice laced the darkening living room with an auspicious air.
One of the last boxes they'd brought up, transporting it in Mel's car to make sure it wasn't crushed, was a shoebox full of old photo albums of the Hamada family. Marisol had hers at the house, but Niko's mother had died of breast cancer not long before they'd met. Mel popped open said box and pulled the first album, its thick cover sporting a white and blue floral design.
"What're you doing?" asked the detective, already chuckling a little. "Gathering intel?"
"Is this you or Sora?" Mel turned around the first page of the album and pointed at a baby with a perfectly round head, chubby cheeks, and thick dark hair. It was smiling widely at the camera, wearing a tiny kimono in what looked like a Sears photo set.
"Sora was bald until he was like three, that's how you can tell." Niko sat up and shifted closer to look at the album with her.
Mel couldn't stifle the little gasp that escaped her when she saw the first image of a young, late 20s Keiko Hamada. The little orange numbers in the bottom-righthand corner of the picture said MAR 07 1991. Keiko stood on the end of a pier holding a fishing pole. She had 80s-style permed hair and wore a fishing vest over a one-piece swimsuit with an open-mouth smile, as if she were laughing when the photographer snapped the image. She was beautiful, and present-day Niko Hamada looked exactly like her. "Wow. I don't think I've ever seen an old picture of your mom. You two are twins."
Niko tilted her head as she regarded the image, sighing softly. "Yeah… used to bother me when I was a teenager, people would tell me that all the time. But it's weird now, it's like… when I look in the mirror, I see her there. And I know I'm never going to forget her because of that."
The shorter woman kissed her cheek. "Sorry for bringing it up."
"No, no… It's reality. She's gone." Niko turned the page and smiled; they'd reach the point where Sora was beginning to make his appearance in the form of Keiko's pregnant belly. "And it is what it is."
"You know, I don't think I've ever asked you about…" Mel suddenly chickened out, and she cleared her throat to cover her flailing.
"My dad?"
She nodded, grateful for the save. "Yeah. I'm just curious, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
The detective frowned, and Mel reached over to smooth out the lines with her fingertips. When Niko leaned into the touch, she moved onto the taller woman's lap, her legs slung perpendicular over Niko's as she wrapped her arms around broad shoulders. "I do want to, it's just… it's just not a lot to tell. He was a married guy, U.S. military, and he knocked my mom up twice before he just disappeared. Not even the Army could find him. No pictures, no secret box of love letters, and my mom would barely ever tell us anything about him."
Mel massaged the fine hairs at the nape of Niko's neck as she spoke. "I know a thing or two about deadbeat dads... I'm sorry. That sucks."
"I vaguely remember this, like… big guy, looming over me. I must have been four when he went missing. I don't remember having any type of good feeling towards him. Sometimes I think Sora went into the Army and I became a police officer because we're just… still chasing him. Looking for some kind of connection." Niko grabbed another one of the albums, seemingly knowing exactly what she was looking for, and thumbed open the page to one where she was maybe ten years old.
They both chuckled at the sight of it—Keiko, Sora, and Niko in matching neon bright windbreakers, smiling at the camera from another department store studio. The pink, yellow, and blue combo was brutal on the eyes, as was the high ponytail with matching neon blue scrunchie on Niko's head.
"This is—this is the greatest thing I've ever seen." Mel took out her phone and immediately snapped a picture of it. "That is aggressively 90s of you."
"Yeah, we were all in on the vibe." Niko kissed Mel's temple, relaxing out of her stormy mood. "As far as I'm concerned, this is my family. Mom was always a little over the top and a little all over the place towards the end there, tarot card readings and metaphysical stuff, but she was always a great mom. I'd mostly like to meet my dad someday so I can hit him with all the teenage angst he got to miss out on."
"I'll drink to that." Mel took a swig of the vodka.
Niko carefully laid back after taking her own gulp, sliding an arm around Mel's shoulders so they rested against a chair-like pile of stuff, watching the glow of headlights from outside ebb and flow under their window.
Despite spending the majority of her life known more or less for anger and brooding, Mel could feel her hold on those outlooks growing tenuous. She'd spent an entire day doing the world's most un-fun task, moving, and yet she didn't feel anything but content, the ache in her muscles serving as evidence of a day well spent. Anger suddenly felt so very far away. Here she was, U-Hauling with her dreamy cop girlfriend, starting her first professorship in the spring semester, and her mom and sister were happy and healthy. All was well.
Mel let her eyes drift closed as the detective's heartbeat thudded comfortingly under her ear.
Ultimately, the problem was simple: Sigmund wanted the sisters and/or the Book of Shadows in exchange for Niko. They didn't need a detailed ransom demand to figure that part out. The Charmed Ones could go running into the Well and attack, but that left the very real possibility that Niko would die. That was his ploy.
They needed something else to trade. But what to get the cursed wolf that wants it all?
Mel stared at the card Zelda had given her so long that the letters rearranged themselves back into the insurance company information. Her heart thudded between her ears as her brain threw out wild guesses about what this could mean. Nothing about it suggested Elder involvement, but it was still magic, which somehow made it feel instantly… dangerous. A peek outside the Cave.
The challenge was immediately obvious. 2774 Main St was a one-story building, and it actually did turn out to be the office of the insurance agent whose information comprised the non-magic part of the card. The volume of news crews in town had dropped a little since the first 48 hours had passed, but two anchor-cameraman duos still strolled past the building as Mel, Macy, and Maggie watched from Macy's car. The outsiders paid no attention to the insurance office, glowing behind closed blinds even as the clock pushed eight. For about fifteen minutes, they observed zero people going in or coming out and, though unsure if that was a good or bad sign, they finally unclipped seatbelts and approached the nondescript mirrored glass front door.
Inside, the space didn't seem like anything special. A half-wall separated the entryway area from the cubicles and frosted-glass offices beyond, and the carpet was that mottled blue that came in squares that every business used for a quick, easy floor option. Nobody sat in the cubicles, but a couple offices had their lights on, shadows moving beyond the glass.
An older woman with silver dreadlocks smiled up at the sisters from behind the reception desk. "Good evening! What can I help you with, ladies?"
Mel took a deep, calming breath as a rush of adrenaline threatened to make her voice shake when she replied, "We're looking for your lost and found?"
The woman's smile twitched, but she said nothing as she reached forward and pressed a purple button on her phone. There was a low, consistent buzz to Mel's right, and the woman directed them towards a door marked as a unisex restroom. She raised an eyebrow, but the receptionist just waved at the door again. Might as well .
Behind the door, the sisters found a stone and metal stairwell. The air changed as soon as they stepped through, going from the mustiness of the office to something thin and almost vibrating, the energy of it skating across Mel's skin as they ascended. An archway glowed with white light at the top of the stairs, and she sucked in a breath before stepping through it to find… a bar?
Mel blinked against the light and the dozen or so women now staring at the sisters with varying levels of surprise, and some with hostility. The space itself honestly didn't look that much different from The Haunt , though perhaps darker and with more red and black decor and more tables. She didn't immediately spot Zelda, and that sent a spike of adrenaline through her veins.
One of them, who'd been leaning against a bar table, pushed back and called out, "You must be the Veras."
Mel met the woman's green eyes, taking in the labret piercing and box braids inlaid with gold. Her dark stained lips were curled into a smirk, which wasn't exactly welcoming, but didn't seem like preamble to an attack, either. "We were sent here to meet someone named Zelda. What is this place?"
"This space belongs to our order," replied the apparent ringleader as she stalked a little closer. "Are you three really the Charmed Ones?"
"Yes, and we're kind of in a hurry," answered Macy, strong and clear. "Now tell us who you are and what this place is."
The stranger gave Macy an up-and-down, but halted her approach. "This space belongs to our order. We're a collective of like-minded magical beings. My name is Jada."
Even though she was trying to give off extreme HBIC energy, Mel couldn't help the wash of awe that filled her belly. She'd yet to be in the presence of so many other witches at once, and the sudden feeling of community, of shared experience, almost drove away her deep anxiety over Niko's kidnapping, just for a moment. She wasn't even sure she'd ever stopped to consider just how many witches might exist in the world, let alone in town (portal to Hell though it may be).
The revelation seemed to be affecting her sisters as well, if the slack-jawed looks on their faces were any indication.
"How many magical orgs was Mom in ?" murmured Maggie, brows knitted.
"Marisol was one of our founding members." Jada had closed the distance between them by now, and she extended a hand adorned with half a dozen glittering rings. "Take a seat, Veras."
Some of the witches scattered when Jada chose a low booth along the back wall of the bar. Only one other sat with them, a young woman who couldn't be more than seventeen, with platinum blonde finger waves and a dark, truly wicked smile. Jada ignored her, but Maggie eyeballed the almost-peer warily and did a little dance to sit on the other side of Macy instead of next to her. Another woman brought them drinks they hadn't asked for, though Mel noted that each one was the sisters' favorite.
"We have empaths too, you know," husked Jada, winking at Maggie.
"You know she's under 21 then?" replied Macy without missing a beat.
"Oh please. What're you going to do, report us to the liquor board?" A flash of metal glinted from Jada's tongue as she threw the challenge, face tilted in a smirk.
Mel tried not to smile, accepting her Tito's and Sprite without protest.
"Since you're here, I'm guessing your powers were unbound," began Jada around sips of her beer. "It took you long enough to find us."
"Yeah, well, but Mom didn't exactly get a chance to walk us through Witchery 101. I'm sure you heard," snapped Maggie, though she was still side-eyeing the blonde stranger.
"Ah. Fair enough." Jada gave her an appreciative nod. "You've met your whitelighter and the Elders, then?"
"We're familiar."
Jada scoffed. "They're fun, huh?" She didn't wait for a reply before pressing on, "Your mother was an impressive witch. Once in a generation, really. I'm not surprised her daughters fulfill that prophecy. She was also really tired of the Elders' rules and regulations."
"I know the feeling," muttered Mel, chewing through an ice cube.
"Magic can do so much more than be a CYA tool for the Elder Council. We can do great things and protect humans and magical beings alike. The Council just hides up there in their clouds, using threats and manipulation to keep their power. Marisol knew that, understood the responsibility we should be recognizing. The humans are a train wreck. Trump, hate crimes, rapists and child molestors getting the public opinion pass and walking free. "
The middle Vera found herself steadily leaning forward as the stranger spoke, her pulse racing as Jada put words to her own feelings with cutting precision. Her affection for Harry and Charity had effectively neutralized most of her objections to the Elders' rules, but that had seemed okay when they were here main source of magical tutelage and information about her mom, as scarce as the latter was. What had started as a vague question mark had, in just seconds, evolved into the most promising opportunity of her short witching career to get some real training and, she dared to hope, answers .
Her brain ricocheted between thoughts and questions, simultaneously wanting to make the witch tell her everything and also needing to keep track of her reason for being there.
"We are the S'Arcana, or Sisters of Arcana. Our purpose is to do what we know is right to protect this world. Even if the Council calls us criminals," Jada was explaining, her mouth curled with mirth, presumably at the dumbfounded look on Mel's face. "I'm half whitelighter, half witch, or what the Elders call an abomination."
Macy made a strangled noise.
S'Arcana . There it was. The thick layer of politics and mystery crap that had been standing in the way of their magical discovery cracked open. Mel licked suddenly dry lips, breathing slowly to gather her words. "Do you know what happened to our mom?"
Jada's dark eyes searched her face, but she looked and sounded genuine when she replied, "No. But it wasn't an accident."
Mel nodded, visualizing herself tabling the yards-long list of questions she had about her mother, because right now there was a need much more acute. "I came here because we need help, and the Elders are ignoring it. Can… will you help us?"
"For the daughters of Marisol Vera? We'll do what we can."
"You've seen the news about the missing detective?"
At this, the young witch next to them tilted her head, eyes narrowing, but Jada continued to ignore her: "It's pretty hard to miss."
"She's… Niko is… It's my fault she's missing. She was taken."
"You were right cousin, it's quite exciting here," said the young guest suddenly, surprising Mel with her prim, unplaceable accent.
"And who are you , anyway?"
"Prudence Night. I'm on a solstice exchange program with the S'Arcana." The teenager extended an elegant hand to shake. "I've never met a time witch before."
"An exchange program? What, like from Hogwarts?"
Prudence made a face that indicated very clearly that Harry Potter jokes would not go over well with her. She retracted her hands. "The Academy of the Unseen Arts."
The table looked up as Zelda appeared in the entryway. Mel almost didn't recognize her out of the coveralls, but there was no mistaking that glare. The kitsune instead wore a pair of gray joggers and red hoodie, her black hair tucked back in a ponytail. Her eyes narrowed as she approached the table and sat down. "You. What happened to Niko? Where is she? What did you do?"
"Zelda, be nice." Jada's voice shifted lower with command, and Mel didn't miss how it made the kitsune shrink a little.
"We were trying to track down and vanquish whatever was killing those people, and it turned out we were chasing two killers, not just one. We defeated the one called Fitela, but now Sigmund the Wolf has Niko, in Mimir's Well." It felt exceedingly odd to talk to people that weren't her sisters this way, and despite everything, her body tensed as if expecting them to call her crazy. "He… He took her to get to me."
"Sigmund," breathed Jada, tapping her nails on the table. "What a dick."
"You know him?"
"Heard of him. No one's been able to snuff out that curse ever since the brothers got their hands on those cloaks. What does he want?"
"Us. My sisters, our power."
"Can't really blame him for that," drawled Prudence, back to smirking in that self-worshipping teenager way. "Your strength is… enticing."
"Do I—do we need to be worried about you, too?" interrupted Macy, apparently just as much not a fan of Prudence Night as her youngest sister.
"Powers dilute when you take them by force. What's the point?" sighed the teen, looking down at the table longingly, as if she was just so put upon by not taking the Charmed Ones' powers. Mel was going to keep one eye on that one at all times regardless.
"I've been trying to figure out what to trade for Niko instead. Can you help us?"
Jada hummed thoughtfully. "We can try… but that'd be a big thing to trade. I don't know that we have anything an interdimensional demon wolf would want, much less over the Charmed Ones." She shook her head. "I don't think that'll work. The other wolf, you defeated it?
"Yes. The three of us, an Elder, and a whitelighter. We killed him."
Prudence snickered.
"Sigmund's more powerful than Fitela, but if that's all it took…" Jada chewed her lip, eyes fixed on an imaginary speck on the table. She had an easy confidence that made it difficult not to pay close attention when she spoke, but Mel didn't get the sense that her leadership in this space was borne out of the same stuff as the Council. Her energy evoked something coiled, an unspoken promise, if only you tried it. "Cuz, how's your glamour?"
"Impeccable," answered the teen without hesitation. She gave Mel a languid, predatory smile.
It felt... strange to be in the attic of the Vera-Vaughn house with magical peers other than a fussy whitelighter or arrogant Elder. Jada, who'd teleported them there, looked weirdly at home, her myriad metal jewelry ringing true with the artifacts and tools littering the shelves and table. Prudence, wearing her solid black schoolgirl's uniform dress with the curved white collar, did not look so natural. And Zelda—well, her glowering at Mel didn't help the tension in the room.
Mel kept a particularly close eye on Prudence as she reverently stroked the dark vellum cover of the Book of Shadows, but the young witch didn't seem to even be able to listen to their conversations as she thumbed through the yellowed pages with dinner plate sized eyes, lips curling around words she seemed to find particularly intriguing.
"The Elders think only witches, warlocks, and gods are worthy of life and powers. It's a shame," mused Jada as she slung herself over a chair. "You're lucky Z doesn't like you though; she pranks compulsively if she does."
The kitsune shrugged, but made no effort to rebut that. She sat perched on a trunk off to the side of the room, shifting between versions of the other women—Macy, Prudence, Mel.
"Stop that," said Maggie when Zelda took her form and stood up, mirroring the teen's cross-armed look. "It's weird."
"I'm just practicing," said Fake Maggie in Zelda's voice. She cleared her throat and repeated the words in Maggie's on the second try.
"Is this is how you did it? Invoking the Morai?" Everyone turned to face Prudence, who was almost lovingly dragging her finger across the spell. "With Nancy?"
"It's Niko ," replied Mel flatly. She tried to ignore the way Zelda shifted to mimic her, though with a distinctly darker look on her face. "And yes. That's how we changed the timeline."
"This is an incredibly complex spell," continued the blonde teen, brows knitting. When she looked back up at the sisters, there was something new in her eyes—if not respect, then at least a level of appreciation. "Impressive."
"Why'd you do it?" asked Zelda, crossing Fake Mel's arms.
Real Mel opened her mouth to answer, and then closed it. The question unexpectedly hit her particularly hard between the ribs, pinging around her brain. She looked at Macy, who nodded and offered a small, sympathetic smile. "Because she's the love of my life, and I thought it would save her from all this."
"Witch and mortal. The classic, tragic love story," replied Prudence, closing the Book. "One of my schoolmates is in much the same predicament."
Zelda scoffed. "Witches. Think you can just spell your way out of everything."
"Hush, Z," interrupted the whitelighter-witch, sitting up a little straighter. "Typical, the Elder and whitelighter would let you do that. If you'd have come to us, we would have told you not to do the spell."
"What's that supposed to mean?" snapped Mel when Jada didn't go on, just kept watching her with inscrutable green eyes.
"You know how there are so many stories of old crones doing horrible things to the people they love? Plagues, mutilation, poison. They were considered dark witches like us, of course." It was Prudence who answered, her tone almost matter of fact. "You're a powerful light witch, Mel. You don't think the force of your feelings for this human has any effect on the universe?"
"That—no, that sounds really… Rapey? Like she doesn't have a choice?"
"She has free will. That's why we have love potions and spells, but your love… It's palpable. It would've been better to change your timeline, rather than hers. Anyone with even basic divination skills would sense it on her. Your soul calls for her."
"That's why Fitella took Niko, and not your girlfriend," clarified Jada. "He felt your connection."
"How do you know I have a girlfriend?"
"It's on your Facebook."
For some reason, maybe hysteric exhaustion, that made Mel snort a laugh. It was ludicrous.
"What does any of this have to do with getting Niko back?" sighed Maggie.
"Nothing, really. But unless you plan on spending the rest of your life celibate, seems like we're helping you out with a little heads up." Jada pushed off of the table and moved to the middle of the room. "But speaking of helping your friend… shall we get started?"
Everything ached.
Not just the deep throb of pain; that was certainly there, but this ache was something more . It brought to mind the agony of nights awake as a child, driven to tears by no injury but the body moving, plates and tendons stretching into the next form. Her bones felt like they might crumble to dust from the force of it, her muscles tensed and locked beyond her control. The ache didn't leave room for much else in her pulsing skull; she might have wondered where she was, why her skin pricked with icy cold, why she could smell the snow against her face—delicate and clean.
Occasionally, she became aware of another presence. Someone watching, nearby. Her ears picked up the occasional grunt or footstep, but if it was a person, she wouldn't know. They said nothing. They left her where she lay.
The first time she opened her eyes, the sharp stab of light to her brain forced them closed immediately again. Minutes, hours, maybe days passed before she tried again. At first, she saw nothing but brightness. Then, slowly, a horizon where cerulean met pristine white. Judging by the angle of the horizon and the direction of her aches, she was laying on her back, head to one side. She tested her muscles. That seemed right. She kept her eyes open until they burned, rested for awhile, and then ripped them open again. When her head lolled to the side, she could see a waterfall, thundering and wide, emptying into a large, gray-blue pool, but no river. She had the passing thought more than once that it was beautiful, misting rainbow in the sunlight. It might've been beautiful. She wasn't sure.
Eventually, something appeared on the horizon—a reddish dot, nothing more, but soon it lumbered close enough that she made out a shape. A bear? No… A wolf. Loping steadily towards her. She closed her eyes again, the ache ratcheting up tenfold, and must have lost consciousness. When she came to again, eyes cracking open, the thing was standing over her. It made a sort of chuffing noise and flopped down, doglike, leaning on an elbow with its giant head up as it kicked its back feet out. She stared back at it, unsure what else to do, but… despite the uselessness of her limbs, the vibration of constant aching, she wasn't afraid. Shouldn't she be?
Whenever her eyes slipped closed, she saw images, scenes of what must have been memories, but they came through muffled and hazy, floating along the edge of her consciousness as if just dreams. A young man with eyes just like hers in the passenger seat of her car. A blonde woman smiling at her under an archway of roses. She couldn't place their names, just the feelings that associated themselves with the pictures. Brother. Wife. A scruffy man with a kind smile seemed to be a friend. Sometimes, the times right before her eyes would snap open again, she saw another woman, fierce and beautiful, with flowing black hair. That vision soothed her aches for a few precious seconds once she jerked back awake. She had no idea who she was, no placement for the face like the others, just a vague sense of comfort associated with those brown eyes.
Then one day, the wolf brought her something. It came and went seemingly at random, but she'd not sensed the presence of any other living creature that might be taking its attention. There were no birds, no bugs, even; just cold and the constant, thundering sound of moving water. When the wind blew, all she scented was the red wolf, who smelled like pine needles decaying into the forest floor. Yet when it came back this time, it was carrying something that it plopped onto the snow in front of her. The gift hit the ground with a wet slap, and she had to blink several times, confused or, perhaps more accurately, disbelieving.
She couldn't remember her name, but she could clearly name the thing in front of her. Elk. Very, very dead. A giant, ragged hole where its throat should have been.
The wolf nudged it towards her. The carcass left a flowering red stain in the snow as it rolled.
When the scent of the blood hit her nose, she thought she might pass out again. Like iron and life . Except instead of losing consciousness, the next breath lit something in her belly, and for the first time, she was able to move a body that for too long had been unavailable to her, and once the motions began, she fell off the other side, unable to control the movements. The body heaved itself upright, and then hands and fingers were digging into a thick hide, easily parting the flesh to tear at the soft, bulbous shapes inside. The body ripped its hands back out gripping a deep red organ. Her mind had just a moment to react with panic and disgust before the body leaned forward and sank teeth into it, and a taste like nothing before spread across her tongue. Coppery, yes, but underlined with… sweetness. The liver melted on her tongue. The body fed until she slumped against the hollowed creature, belly full and limbs singing with warmth. The wolf trotted off again.
After that, the body slowly became hers again. She slid off of the dead creature and dropped back into the snow, tasting viscera on her lips and feeling it covering her chin and neck. Vaguely, her brain suggested this was an undesirable state of being, but she was too concerned with trying to stand. Her knees wobbled and her thighs shook as she rose, but after what seemed like years of trying, she found herself totally upright. It was a win without reward, and the simple act left her so exhausted that she soon fell back to her hands and knees, and then her face collided with snow again.
When she woke up this time, it wasn't because of the wolf, even though the beast had returned, standing stiffly a few yards away. Her eyes had blinked open because of something catching her nose—a new scent, earthy and sweet. It brought to mind images of a puffy purple flower she couldn't quite name and sandy stone after a torrential rain. The stronger the smell grew, the more agitated the wolf became, until it was pacing back and forth in front of her, leaving a trench in the snow.
As three small dots appeared on the horizon, she pushed herself upright and squinted against the light. Three women, arranged from tallest to shortest, left to right. It took a long time before their faces became clear, and she felt a strange rush. She knew them. Didn't she? One of them, the middle one… she was the source of that enticing scent. That was the one from her dreams.
Three. That made her mind twinge with memory, but it fell short of a full story. Three.
By the time the visitors arrived within a reasonable distance and stopped, she'd made it up to hands and knees, head down as she caught her breath. Energy was seeping back into her body, whether from the meal the night before or the instinct in response to strangers, she didn't know. When she lifted her head and hauled herself up to put one foot flat on the ground, her hand resting hard on her other knee, she noticed the women looking at her with concerned expressions.
The wolf stepped in front of them, blocking her view. "Charmed Ones," it greeted, its voice rumbling like the waterfall behind them. "You came."
"We got your messages," said the tall one. Her voice was strong and clear, ringing with confidence. "Pretty boring, Sigmund."
"So you know who I am. And you killed my brother."
"You should've turned yourselves in as soon as the human freed you. That skin doesn't belong to you."
What are they...? She heard the words, knew what most of them meant, but… whatever it all meant when put together, it kept leaking out her ear before she could get a good grasp.
"What did you do to her?" asked the one from her dreams, voice thick and warm brown eyes focused on her.
"I made her strong," answered the wolf, raising its head higher. "Like me."
The tallest one took a step forward, and she noticed how the wolf's hackles raised. "Tell us what you want."
"I want your powers. Voluntarily, and I'll let you take back your new and improved friend. If I have to take it from you, she dies." The wolf shifted closer to her, and she took a step back.
"Why do you want our powers? No one will accept you. They'll hunt you down. Even we have almost been defeated a few times," said the smallest one, arms crossed. "What's the point?"
"I'm a young god," snarled the beast. "And once I have your powers, I'll turn every Elder, witch, and warlock into one of us—they won't want to kill me then. They'll bow to me like I deserve."
The three women exchanged looks, almost bored, and the smallest one continued: "Let us check her first. Make sure you're not trying anything funny."
Sigmund narrowed golden eyes. "I'm not gonna fall for that, witch."
"Well, we don't trust you, either. We'll stand right here, and Mel will go."
After a long pause, the beast relented with a nod of its great head. It remained in place as the one from her dreams— Mel? —moved closer, tension ratcheting up with each step, that heavenly scent growing stronger, and then…
She snorted and shook her head. The woman finally reached her, hands extending out to her body, but suddenly underneath the scent she knew so well was something else… polished metal and green seas. Someone else.
Even though she hadn't used her voice in what felt like a lifetime, she managed to say out loud, "You're not her."
The wolf howled, and then She was gone, replaced by a stranger with glinting metal in her hair and face, grabbing at her hands and saying something about leaving. The other two women transformed as well, one with blonde hair, the other into a gray fox that almost disappeared against the disturbed snow.
She slapped away the stranger's arms and surged forward, knocking her into the snow and pushing a palm hard against her throat hard . The woman's hands scratched and tore at her skin, but she barely felt it, bearing down with every ounce of energy. Behind her, she could hear the wolf snarling and barking, accompanied by the snap and crackle of lightning and fire. The woman's hands began to weaken, her eyes rolling back, and she shifted her whole body weight over her shoulders to—
"Niko, stop! "
She froze, hand leaving the imposter's neck as she turned to seek the owner of that voice, the real one. Niko. That was her name, right? Niko. She was Niko. Her eyes settled on the source of the new information.
She , and what must have been the real versions of the other two women, had appeared near the pool, with the blonde stranger and the gray fox. Purple fire burned in Her eyes.
The plan had been going swimmingly, and then it hadn't. From where they'd apparated on top of the falls, the Charmed Ones were close enough to clearly see what was happening, but not enough to hear. Jada never got to the point where she could give the signal; it has gone too wrong too fast.
At first, she thought maybe they'd been mistaken this whole time, and Niko wasn't taken by Sigmund. The little spot near Mimir's Well had just two occupants: a reddish wolf and a black bear with a hawk-shaped crest of light fur on its chest. She should have known, should have understood from the breadcrumbs of magical hints along the way to this moment, but it wasn't until the bear shrank back into Niko's form, just for a few seconds before shifting again, that her brain processed the reality. He'd turned Niko. Somehow, she hadn't anticipated that, and the implications ballooned like a mushroom cloud, hazy and toxic and far-reaching.
Maggie gripped her forearm tightly before she could step right off the falls, panicked and furious and wanting nothing more than to go to her—
And then everything had gone wrong.
When Jada, glamoured as Mel, had moved next to the bear, it had nearly knocked her head off. The illusion blinked away instantly, and then chaos. Zelda turned immediately to her fox form, and Prudence seemed to have enough wits about her that she threw the summoning crystal down, part of a later piece of the original plan, and with a sharp pull on her bones, the Three teleported to the newly minted battlefield.
"You!" Sigmund slammed his paws into the snow, executing a hairpin turn that had him charging towards the true Charmed Ones.
Maggie lit the faeflame again, keeping it alight on a medieval style torch they'd brought from their collection, and Macy lunged forward, throwing the wolf off its course, but not quite knocking him over.
Snapping jaws nearly reached the eldest sister's hands before Mel managed to freeze the thing, allowing Macy to jump aside, and just as her powers broke under the onslaught of Sigmund's resistance, a bolt of red lightning struck the wolf's side with enough force that the beast finally collapsed to one side, whining and shrieking as electricity lanced through its body. When Mel looked back for the source, Prudence stood smirking at her, skin crackling with red static, and then Zelda barreled forward to sink teeth into Sigmund's neck, now in a bear form of her own. As strange as it was to see, the wolf was much bigger than the bear, and easily threw the spirit off of him, Zelda flipping back to a fox, just as Macy prepared another throw. Mel lended her freeze as the beast slammed into the ground, but they were only able to hold it for a second or two before it was up again, sprinting towards Maggie.
The youngest Vera drew up a barrier, but Sigmund broke it apart with one hulking shoulder, and his jaws were opening, huge tongue rising in a snarl, as Maggie raised her hands to shield the oncoming attack—
The Veras had been taking a walk through a nature preserve north of Hilltowne that day the wild dog found them. Mel remembered coming around a curve and seeing the thing, big and dirty and skinny. Even though she wasn't old enough to necessarily put words to it, she knew this wasn't like the dogs that she got to pet on the sidewalk. Marisol had stiffened, tightening her grip on Maggie's stroller and coming to a quick stop. Most times, she remembered her mom scaring the dog off with a shout and a swing of a big stick, whacking it across the nose as it lunged for her. But sometimes, when the memory drifted in as she fell asleep or daydreamed, she remembered her mom shouting words that were strange to her ears, not English, not Spanish, and the dog had yelped under the strike of a glowing purple whip. When it was over, she'd knelt before four-year-old Mel and told her that if something bad happened and Mom wasn't around, it was a big sister's job to protect her sibling.
Mel raised both her hands how she remembered her mother doing it, not waving, but drawing a five-pointed star in the air. At the end, her fingertips began to glow purple, and she whispered the words: " Impetus tuum devorabitur vocatio mea ."
The purple cord from her memory leapt to life, arcing across the air to wrap around the beast's legs, drawing it to a violent stop just short of closing its jaws around Maggie. It roared and snarled at her, but the more it struggled, the tighter the rope became, and the easier it felt for Mel to keep up the spell.
"Macy, get her!" she shouted, jerking her head towards her little sister.
Prudence got there first, hooking two arms under Maggie's to drag her to her feet and help her back to where Zelda, Macy, and Mel were standing. The time witch froze Sigmund with her free hand and looked around for Niko. She spotted the bear leaning over Jada, the flat of one huge paw pressed into her throat, and she called out, "Niko, stop! "
The bear shifted back to the detective and her brown eyes seemed confused as she looked at Mel. Jada wriggled out from under Niko and sprang to her feet, blood trickling from a cut on her temple.
Macy put one hand on Mel's shoulder, and Maggie mirrored on the other side. Mel felt her power surge, and without thinking so much as willing , she blew out a breath, and a cloud of pinkish dust floated over to the detective. She watched the glittering bits of magic enter Niko's mouth and nose, and then she dropped, unconscious.
That just left Sigmund. Mel sucked in air to prepare for the faeflame spell, but suddenly Jada had grabbed something from Maggie and was tearing across the snow towards the restrained wolf.
"What's she doing?" asked Macy, letting go of Mel's shoulder
"She took my knife," said Maggie, and that was the only warning they got before Jada struck Sigmund in the head with a blue lightning bolt, rendering his muscles taut, and then she was slamming the dagger into his neck.
" Redi ad periculum tuum ." Jada jerked the knife back against the sharp edge, splitting Sigmund's throat and tendons open as she went. The wolf collapsed, and then stilled, and then it wasn't a wolf anymore, but a man with a long nose and black hair. Red blood, one hundred percent human, soaked into the snow as he made a series of gut-churning gurgling noises before growing silent. His eyes were fixed on the sky, pupils just pinpricks. Jada wiped the knife on her pants.
"I guess, uh, that's one way to do it," offered Zelda, back in her human form.
While Jada worked on getting the cloak off of Sigmund's shoulders, Mel ran to Niko's prone form and pulled her shoulders into her lap, not caring about the snow biting at her knees through her pants. The sleep spell would last for a couple hours, but she had to feel the warmth of her skin, the beat of her heart.
"This must be the weapon," said Jada, pulling a long sword from Sigmund's belt. A handle inlaid with rubies and gold balanced out a broad, long blade that glinted silver-white in the bright sun. The whitelighter-witch regarded it with obvious interest, her fingers skating along the flat of the blade.
Macy reached Mel and put a hand on her shoulder. "We should get out of here."
Mel barely heard her. She hadn't realized until this exact moment that this was the first time in so very long that she'd been this close to Niko, holding her, the familiar weight against her chest. The detective had three long, jagged tears in the front of her shirt, and fully healed scars underneath, even though it had only been a few days since she'd disappeared. Her brain was misfiring, restarting, and struggling to comprehend this meant, and all she could do was grip the detective tighter, desperately clinging to the pulse thudding under her hands.
"Mel," said Maggie, gently but closer than she'd been expecting. "Mel. Come on, let's go."
When they arrived back at Vera Manor, Jada helped Macy and Mel carry the unconscious detective to one of the guest bedrooms, and Zelda stayed with her as the witches went out to talk.
Mel felt like she'd aged a thousand years in the matter of just a few hours. She truly wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for forty-seven days, but with recent events… the rules of the game had changed.
Everyone seemed a little deflated as they gathered in the kitchen around leftover pasta, pantry snacks, and alcohol.
"That was… What happened back there?" began Macy from where she sat at the table.
"The bear sniffed through my glamour," answered Jada with a shrug. She had an entire bag of puffy Cheetos propped against her chest, sitting on one of the island barstools.
Mel frowned as the words processed. "Don't call her that."
"It is what she is," offered Prudence without much sympathy.
"What does this mean? Can we cure her?"
Both S'Arcana gave her a "bless your heart" sort of expression.
"So… she's a…? Forever?"
"Werebear," finished Prudence. "Might be cute sounding under other circumstances."
"We can't just dump her back with Greta, not like this." Macy was looking at Jada, chewing her lip with a clearly difficult thought. "Do you all know anything about…"
"Werebear," repeated the blonde with a languid smile. "And yes. As a dark creature, I've studied them extensively at the Academy."
Jada seemed to pick up on where Macy's mind was headed, and she brushed orange powder from her shirt before venturing, "You want to keep her here?"
"Just until she's processed all this. I have no idea how we're going to get her through it, but if she goes back out there, someone is going to kill her or we'll have an outbreak. What if she hurts Greta, or Morris?"
"It doesn't work like that," said the whitelighter-witch with her trademark calm. "This isn't the movies, it isn't full moons and feral attacks. You did notice she didn't turn into a wolf, yeah?"
Macy narrowed her eyes and scoffed. "I am exhausted , and I'm sure you are too, but if you don't drop the attitude about things we need to know, I'm going to throw you into the ceiling and keep you there until I fall asleep."
Jada held up her hands in the universal gesture of surrender, and a smirk played across her lips. "Fine, fine. In terms of need to know and given the short tempers in the room, it'll take her about a week to get back to full strength, in this case meaning she should have regular control of her powers. How long it takes her to come to terms with her new reality is up to you three, I suppose. The more she fights it, the less control she'll have." She looked at her cousin, arching an eyebrow. "I'm going to leave Prudence here with you to help."
"What about Greta? The cops? They might come back," said Maggie, looking distraught.
"Zelda and I will take care of that," replied the whitelighter-witch, suddenly looking leonine. She stood up, straightened, and a flash of blue light indicating her glamour came over the room. In her place stood Niko Hamada, sporting Jada Shield's smirk.
"No," blurted Mel. "No way. That's fucked up, by any standards."
"Do you have a better idea?" asked Jada-NIko in an alarmingly accurate voice. "I may be an abomination, but I'm not a monster. We'll keep a respectable distance from the wife, but we have to do enough to get the humans off of this. Once things have calmed down, if she wants to, she can hop right back into her life."
"You should also keep her a secret from your Elders," added Prudence. "They'll put her down."
Mel felt a cold flame blossom in her stomach, and she managed to tear her eyes away from Jada-Niko to glare at the teen. "Excuse me?"
"She's a dark creature now. The Council won't risk her infecting other humans. Believe me or not, but whatever they do to her will be on you. It's a shame, really. The Dark Lord understands the beauty of such unholy beasts." The blonde snapped her fingers, and a leather weekender bag appeared at her feet. "Do you have a room for me?"
Macy took the new houseguest upstairs, and Maggie excused herself to check on Zelda and Niko, leaving Mel staring at the glamour version of the woman she'd tried to hard to keep out of this life. The irony sat sour on her tongue, and she had to look away. Luckily, when she looked back up, Jada had changed back to herself, her long braids pulled over one shoulder.
"She's a lucky one," said the whitelighter-witch after a long time, sliding off of the countertop. "To have you looking out for her."
"Yeah, so lucky she got turned into a were creature."
Jada gave another shrug. "Bad things happen to everyone. It's just a matter of degrees." She cleared her throat. "I'm not going to be able to keep up a glamour tonight, so we'll work on the detective's grand return tomorrow, yeah?"
"Sure. And thank you." Mel held out a hand to shake. "We couldn't have gotten her back without your help. Thank you."
When the S'Arcana had disappeared, Mel slumped against the counter, head in her hands. She only had a few precious moments of peace before a soft sound alerted her to a new visitor, and she turned to greet, "Harry."
The whitelighter was watching her with already-suspicious eyes, his gaze flickering around to the piles of empty chip bags and dirty plates. "Did you have a party and not invite me?"
"Just haven't had time to clean." Mel straightened up and shifted, trying to focus on looking just normal tired, and not wolf-vanquishing tired. "What's up?"
"I… Where are your sisters?"
"Sleeping."
Harry didn't look particularly convinced, but he let out a breath and continued anyway, "The Council… They can no longer sense Sigmund. We don't know what that means for Miss Hamada, but, uh, I thought you should know."
Shit-shit-shit . The time witch coughed to give herself a second to gather a response that might work on the whitelighter. Truthfully, it didn't take much trying. Her body was exhausted beyond anything she'd ever felt before, and her mind felt like thick pudding, opaque and unstable. It didn't take much pretending to put a look of devastation on her face. "What does that mean?"
"He may pop up again, but… We won't know where to find her until he does."
Mel nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. "Thanks, Harry. For telling me."
The whitelighter took a step towards her, hand raised as if to touch her arm, but then he shrank back, eyes turning to the ground. "I'm sorry, Mel. This… I wish I could do more. I know how much you care about her."
Well, fuck. A day late and a dollar short, Harry . Mel put on her best grateful smile.