Pink Magic
Stories similar to this that you might like too.
I woke up with my face buried in a pillow full of fur. It smelled like a dog and I was pretty sure that if someone had put their nose directly on the top of my head it would’ve gotten a nice, long whiff.
My head was wrapped up in a soft, fluffy blanket of black-and-tan fur that felt way too good to be true, so much that I wanted to stay right where I was forever—except that there were hands holding me down by my shoulders as well as the warm body above me.
It wasn’t really all that surprising that I didn’t remember anything about this night. It’d been quite some time since any guy’s fingers had touched my hair, but for some reason, it seemed wrong that this man shouldn’t have known what they were doing because I hadn’t remembered at least part of last night.
The first thing I did after realizing I wasn’t dreaming was open one eye and look over toward the bedside table, where I found an alarm clock showing seven forty-five AM. “You’re going to make me miss school,” I said sleepily into the furry warmth between my ear and cheek.
“Sorry.” He kissed my forehead.
His lips weren’t cold at all, though. They felt like they might actually have been slightly sweaty and it made them feel even warmer. It was almost impossible to imagine that this man could get cold anywhere. But then again, he also wasn’t moving around much in his sleep, so maybe it was just that he was always perfectly comfortable.
He must’ve realized something strange was happening when he felt my shift closer to him and opened his eyes. “What?” he murmured before yawning hugely.
My mind was still fuzzy from being so out of it most of the day yesterday. When I tried to focus on anything else besides how much I liked feeling his body heat seeping through his sweatshirt onto mine, everything went blank. All I knew was that I wanted to curl back up in the crook of his arm and pretend nothing was ever wrong—until I figured out what was.
I forced myself to sit up, but it took several tries because he moved away suddenly, probably sensing that I’d woken up and trying not to wake me up more than necessary. He stood up and stretched, letting his shirt slide off one shoulder until he was left only in a pair of boxer briefs. Then he walked over to the door leading outside and looked both ways.
Once he nodded, I got myself up on my feet, but my knees wobbled for no apparent reason, and I almost fell back to the floor. His hand came out quickly to steady me and then he pulled me gently forward and out of the room. We went down the hall toward the stairs while I fought the urge to keep looking back and forth between him and the door to see if any monsters were coming to get us.
When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I turned right and started walking toward the kitchen.
The front door slammed loudly behind us, causing me to jump. A moment later, a voice yelled from somewhere nearby, “You need to go home! You can’t be here!”
“Don’t worry about her,” Ransom said calmly as he followed close on my heels. “She’s harmless.”
We stopped at the kitchen table, which was already set for two, with plates full of cereal and toast ready to eat. There were cups of coffee waiting, too, but neither Ransom or I needed to be told not to drink from them. The cup of tea next to the teapot meant we’d come here to talk about something important, and I couldn’t imagine that anyone could do that without caffeine.
I’d barely eaten half a bowl of cornflakes before I started talking to try and catch up to where we’d left off yesterday. “Do you know what happened at the party last night? Did you see what happened to Alex?”
Ransom’s expression was serious when he spoke up, “Alex was stabbed.” He didn’t seem upset, just matter-of-fact. “Someone cut her stomach open and stuck their fingers down inside—and she’s still alive because of that knife, but it doesn’t mean the wound isn’t deep enough that it’ll kill her soon, or that she won’t be scarred for life.”
I stared at him in shock. “That sounds horrible. Who did it?”
“It was either Eric or Ryan, but they’re both missing now. No one knows why they’d want to hurt a girl who was having fun dancing and drinking with everyone else. They’re just lucky no one was paying attention when someone stabbed her.”
I thought about what Alex had told me earlier and tried to make sense of the pieces I’d pieced together, wondering if there were any hidden meanings. “Was that supposed to be funny? Like they were poking fun at me by calling me a demon or something?”
There was a long silence, and after a while, Ransom shook his head. “No, but neither do I think they did it because they like you and wanted you for themselves.”
“Because it would be easier to just leave me alone, then?” I asked sadly.
“Yes.” He took the chair next to me, sitting down and leaning forward so that the tips of our elbows bumped gently. “I believe you. That’s exactly what happens with demons.”
This is where I usually got angry or offended. I wasn’t human, I knew, but the way he called me that—like I was some monster to be feared—wasn’t fair. And it wasn’t like I’d never done anything bad to anyone. I’d killed people. I’d even tortured them. So it wasn’t like I was perfect in every possible way that I could be, but he’d just have to learn to deal with it.
Instead of getting mad, though, I found myself thinking back to all the years I’d been locked in this house with only my mother for company. It had been awful being trapped there for days on end when I wasn’t even allowed to use the bathroom unless she gave me permission.
If I made noise, the wards around the house would go off. She’d always tell me I’d better be careful, that someone might come and see what I was doing if I didn’t watch my step.
And I realized something: She’d never been worried about monsters or evil spirits, not like Ransom.
So I decided to change things.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I don’t deserve to be talked about like that.”
His eyes narrowed on mine for a moment. “What are you saying?”
I looked at our hands, intertwined at the edge of the table, and smiled. “If we’re going to work together, then maybe we should try to act like it.”
He laughed softly. “That makes sense.” Then he hesitated. “Does that include what you and I did last night? Or the time before that?”
My smile faded and my face grew hot. “Not really, no. We shouldn’t get too comfortable with each other. We need to be professional.”
“Right,” he said slowly.
We sat together in silence for a few moments, and then Ransom sighed and leaned forward again. “Look, I’ve already told you how I feel about you—that’s part of the reason I came here today. But I can’t pretend you aren’t a demon.”
“You don’t have to. Not now,” I admitted. “But once we’re out of danger, I promise you, I’m leaving town.”
“Where are you going?” he asked softly.
“South America,” I replied simply. “They say there are witches there who can help me.”
“Will you stay away from me forever?” he asked desperately. “If you leave now, will you never come back to New York City?”
I shook my head. “No, I won’t ever go back there as long as I live. This city is dead to me.”
The doorbell rang, and I jumped up in surprise. My heart pounded at the thought that it was someone coming to take me away, ready to throw my own words right back into my face. It was almost impossible to believe that everything I’d said about leaving could possibly be true; after all these years, it seemed like such an unrealistic idea.
When the door opened, though, it wasn’t a monster or an angel who stood on the threshold of our apartment. It was another person—a man whose eyes burned with curiosity.
Alex.
***
Ransom looked like he wanted to run to Alex, grab him by the shoulders, and shake him until he agreed to go home and forget the whole thing had ever happened, but then Alex stepped inside and stopped dead at the sight of me and Ransom standing over the table.
I knew the second his eyes fell on us that he understood what I’d meant about the demon thing and the fact that he couldn’t trust me anymore. Even if the rumors about me hadn’t been enough, the look on his face proved that he believed me now.
We’d known each other since we were kids, played with each other, fought with each other, and shared secrets with each other. Now, he stared at me as though I’d become an entirely different person and he couldn’t figure out what to do.
I felt the tears burning my cheeks before I could stop myself from crying, and my hand trembled against the glass of tea. I knew Alex wouldn’t like this—wouldn’t accept it—and I hated the pain in my voice when I spoke.
“I’ve made a mistake,” I whispered. “Please, Alex, forgive me.”
“It’s okay,” Alex said softly. “I understand why you did it.”
“Why did you do what?” Ransom asked sharply. “She can’t be talking about the demons.”
“Yeah,” Alex said quietly, looking directly at Ransom for the first time. His expression turned cold, his eyes hard, and Ransom took a single step back. The tension between them was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
“Don’t worry about it,” Alex finally snapped. “I know what you were trying to do.” He looked back at me. “I’ll keep your secret.”
There was nothing else to say. So I nodded, and then we both stared at our empty glasses as though they held some special meaning.
“Come on,” Alex said finally, waving his hand at the two of us. “Let’s go to the bar.”
Ransom didn’t move. Instead, he reached out and grabbed the front of my shirt with one hand and yanked me close. “This was a stupid thing to do,” he growled at me. “I don’t care what your plan is. You should have just let it play out without getting involved.”
“Then I would have lost my only friend,” I snapped back. “You can hate me later. Right now, we need to figure out where this thing went wrong.”
“What do you mean?” Ransom demanded. “Did you think I was going to agree to join in? That I’d turn into the kind of person you needed me to be?”
Alex’s eyebrows arched as he watched our exchange. “You’ve never struck me as someone who needs anyone,” he said slowly.
“Neither have I,” Ransom replied grimly. “Especially not a witch.”
The way the three of us stared at each other hurt more than any blow, but there was no time to talk; the door to the apartment opened again, and Alex’s eyes darted toward the hallway before he waved for us to follow.
The End