“The Bad Place? You mean to tell me your people punish me for not agreeing to lifelong servitude with a man I don’t even know because I won’t sign my life away? What kinda third-world country are you running in this realm?”
There was a collective gasp just before the enormous room, milling with people, went silent. Everyone stopped and stared at the newb with the big mouth and the fake hair on her chest.
But the biggest gasp of all came from Calamity, who she’d obviously offended. The feline let out a low growl, hunching her back. “I’ve never been so insulted in my damn life! We’re not servants, you uneducated, ill-informed human! We’re respected, and in some cultures revered! There are statues made of us. Days set aside in some cultures to celebrate us! We’re advisors. Life coaches. Magical guides, and we keep the balance of the realm so the temptation to use magic isn’t used for evil, Ignoramus!”
Oh.
Suddenly, it all became clear. It wasn’t just Calamity’s rant or the ugly stares of her fellow newbs, it was that certainty returning, full on, deep in her gut. She had to do this. She was meant to do this.
Grabbing the pen without another thought, she scribbled her name with flourish.
And just like that, it was done.
The impact of their fall was buffered only by the fact that they hit a pile of garbage, the stench clinging to her nose as the whoosh of air they created when they landed rose upward.
Poppy lay there for a moment, staring up at the multitude of stars in the inky black of night, trying to catch her breath as she rubbed her arm in the spot Gladys had taken her blood sample.
She held it up and examined the crook of her elbow under the half moon. “Wow. Gladys is a harsh opponent when it comes to a needle.”
Marty sat up, jackknifing to a sitting position, a piece of stray paper stuck to one of the swirly curls of her hair. “Where the heck are we?” she groaned, hopping upward and holding a hand of assistance out to Poppy, who took it with a matching groan.
“At Poppy’s new gig,” Calamity offered, circling the group as they each began to rise to their feet.
“Already?” Poppy squeaked, looking around to assess her surroundings. They’d landed in front of what looked like an abandoned warehouse on an all but deserted street, the tall gray and red brick structure with window after tall, dirty window looming upward in the cold night. The very air of the building was gloomy and dark, making her shiver. “So they just dump you here in a pile of trash? No directions? No getting-to-know-your-warlock pre-introductions? Just tag, you’re it—go be a familiar, Grasshopper?”
Nina cracked her knuckles, staring down at Calamity, the backdrop of the dark night making her pale skin almost glow. “So are we done here?”
Alarm skittered along Poppy’s spine, making her blood go cold. They were just going to leave her? Forever? What happened to all those stories about friends for life and ride or die?
She had no one. It wasn’t like she could call her mother and say, “Hey, Ma. I need your advice. Due to a crazy-as-fuck accident, I’m now a familiar. I have magic, Ma! But I also have a man I’m supposed to partner up with. A man I guide through life forever. Can you believe I actually had to sign a paper that said I’d do this forever? So…got any advice?”
Her mother would pass out in her corned beef and cabbage. These women and this talking cat were all she had, and she wasn’t letting them go so easily.
“Done?” she squawked. “Wait. You’re all just going to leave me here as though I were some unwanted newborn you’re dropping off on the steps of a church?”
Nina snorted, jamming her hands into her hoodie. “Dramatic analogy, but yeah, if you wanna look at it like that. We got ya to the realm, didn’t we? You got your assignment. You’re not in a state of total fucked-up. There were no tears. No denial. You seem okay with your new lot in life, which, I gotta say, I admire because shit doesn’t usually go down like this. You’re a badder bitch than most. So what the fuck do you need us for?”
Poppy looked up at Nina, an overwhelming sense of fear washing over her in a swell of desperation. She gripped the vampire’s slender hand, pulling her cool digits to her chest as she blinked away those tears Nina talked about. “I don’t know!” she yelped while the unfamiliar emotion clawed at her from the inside out, but as she caught the alarmed gazes in the other women’s eyes, she quieted her tone. “I don’t know. I just do. I really just do…”
And that was true. She knew it.
But why did she know?
Surprisingly, Nina didn’t pull away. Instead, she gripped Poppy’s fingers tighter, steadying her rising panic. Nina’s next words didn’t betray her gruff demeanor, but she somehow knew the woman wouldn’t abandon her. “Fine, Chicken-shit. We’ll stay.”