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foreveralwaysanauthor · 10 months

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Melaka Mystica (Part 2/3)

November 27, 2023

Notes - This month has been pretty dang good as I got a car, marched in a parade, made Thanksgiving dinner on my own for the first time (and didn't burn anything other than my energy and my mom's only remaining brain cells 😂), but then my uncle's cat, Budweiser (Buddy) who was 17 and I loved as my own, passed away after getting his final fill of turkey. He was an amazing old boy and I'll miss him dearly, but at least he's with the rest of my family, getting all the attention he could ever want! Honestly, though, I'm proud of myself for getting this done before the end of the month with all that happened around me! This is pretty much just 33 pages of me going off the rails at 3am and typing until my hands hurt, but it's worth it in the end! Anyway, I might need to invest in a wrist brace for carpal tunnel at this point 🙈😂

You all are clearly in over your pretty, little heads.

Metal dragged across old bricks, scraping a pile of leaves into a growing heap by the side of the road. As much as Mick hated being relegated to raking the sidewalk outside of her family’s shop, it got her away from the overbearing smell of incense packets and burning sage. Ever since the incident on Halloween, she had been suffering through her days at work. Things at the store had never been difficult for her before Halloween, but if the books Miles had been sending her excerpts of were anything to go by, all of her new problems were partly due to the possession she’d faced. Whatever had possessed her that day had left lingering traces of itself in her, making it damn near impossible for her to get through a workday. Whatever it had been, must have hated sage and incense, which, if she thought about it, made sense as negativity was supposed to be pushed out with a sage cleansing.

Regardless of how often she stepped out to breathe, her headaches only increased when someone would pull an incense stick from the wicker basket by the shop door to see how it smelled. She had tried to use one of the aromatherapy inhalers Carrie had bought her - something the blonde said she used to keep her sinuses clear during the winter if she had a show to perform in - but those only helped so much in the little shop. With customers pulling incense sticks from their packages to smell them properly, teens opening candles or essential oils, and groups of kids on field trips being obnoxious during Carrie’s performances, Mick was ready to down a bottle of Tylenol and pass out.

Thankfully, business had slowed down a considerable amount once Halloween passed. However, there were still the odd tourists coming and going in search of souvenirs and regulars looking for new crystals or a refill of their favorite incense. Once the local schools let out, they would get swarms of children and teenagers alike, pushing and shoving their way into the small store for cheap drinks or snacks. Some days were better than others, where they would get mostly older people coming in for replacement items or wanting a tarot reading. However, there were days when there would be an ignorant, middle-aged person looking to speak with the manager or owner - someone other than some “twenty-something little shit,” as most of them put it. On days like those, Mick wondered why her parents would give her the store if she had to deal with people like that all day.

Then again, they weren’t entirely retired, and people who knew and loved her parents would sometimes come in asking specifically for them. Mick never minded stepping into the back room and quickly calling either of her parents, asking them to stop by. After Halloween, however, the stress of everything had been too overwhelming. More often than not, Mick wanted nothing more than to call up her parents and give the shop back to them, telling them that she just couldn’t handle it. However, she had managed to fight through the first week of November without having to call her parents for anything more than a friendly visit and felt as though things would get better over time.

Then came the eleventh. Due to Veteran’s Day, the schools were closed, and the city’s parade was set to go through the streets, honoring those who had served in any branch of the military - alive or dead. Parade days meant busy business, and, to her dismay, many of those who had marched through the streets had come to the Coven’s Cottage for a hot cider and some of Mrs Murphy’s homemade cider donuts. With so many different emotions coming at her from everyone who stepped in the door, Mick got overwhelmed quickly. After a sobbing woman and her children came inside, Mick realized she was shaking like a leaf. After sending the girl to the back to calm down, Miles and Carrie were left to fend for themselves while an overwhelmed Mick hid in the break room to cry through the pain of a slaughtering migraine. Once things had calmed down and Mick was able to think properly, Miles convinced the brunette to wave her white flag, and she asked her parents for help.

Later that night, Mick had Miles and Carrie go home with her as witnesses so that her parents would see that she wasn’t just talking out of her ass. With his previous knowledge of magic, Brady was, understandably, concerned for his daughter’s health and mental well-being and began pacing - showing an anxious, overthinking side of the man that none of the young adults had seen before. On the other hand, while Mack had no magical ties of her own, the woman was determined to find a way to help her only child, looking into books and articles that could help cleanse Mick of any lasting effects from her possession. After sitting the older couple down once more and having them take the time to read over some of the things Miles and Carrie had found in their research for Mick, Mack and Brady agreed to put their daughter on lighter duty at their family shop, resuming their original positions as co-owners.

While the slightly lesser traffic in the shop and her parents helping out made things a bit easier on Mick’s headaches, she still felt physically drained just sitting in her family’s shop. Unlike Vivien or Royce, she didn’t have the ability to say her lungs were tight when someone tried to light sage or incense or claim her blood pressure was acting out whenever she got dizzy sitting at the register. In reality, with her parents and friends hovering almost every day, she was forced to get out and walk around town more frequently, giving her some fresh air. However, on days when the air outside was sitting in the forties, and the wind was like a cruel slap to the face, Mick despised being sent outside. She knew that, all too soon, the air would be too cold to breathe without a scarf over her face, and the ice on the ground would make it too difficult to make it from one place to another without slamming into the sidewalk, but that didn’t make her appreciate the moderately chilly autumn.

Heaving a huff of frustration as a nearby car barrelled down the street to beat a changing traffic light, the icy breeze dragging off of the vehicle and scattering her hard work into the wind, and Mick rolled her eyes. She was sick of raking meaningless piles of leaves, sick of being pushed aside and asked to do menial tasks just because she had a hard time sitting around in the shop. She could have been doing so much more to help out around the shop! She could organize the storage room, put new stock out on the shelves, or help give aura readings or something - anything! She was so tired of being useless to everyone she cared about.

With a shake of her head, Mick sucked in a breath and sighed before turning back toward the shop. The bell above the door chimed - a replacement for the cackling witch sound they had put up for Halloween - and Mick leaned the rake against the wall by the door before tugging her gloves and hat off and shoving them into the pockets of the maroon, fleece-lined coat her parents had bought her years ago. The pocket zippers had been melted open after she had unceremoniously tossed the coat in front of the heater once, the faux fur lining around the hood was slightly matted after having used it for so many frigid winters, and the elastics in the cuffs of the sleeves had lost their grip a long time ago, but the coat kept her warm and, to Mick, that was all that mattered.

The smell of burning sage filled the small shop, and although Mick would have usually taken a big whiff of it to calm herself, she refrained as a woman with a bag of incense sticks stepped around her to leave. As Mick ditched her coat on the rack behind the counter, she stepped up behind her mom and pressed a kiss to the woman’s cheek before taking a caramel from the dish on the counter and making her way to the back room to see if Miles and Carrie were on their breaks yet. Instead of finding the pair curled up on the couch, talking through the entirety of their break, Mick found her dad sitting in her usual chair, a cup of something in one hand and his phone in the other.

Smiling to herself as she decided to make her presence known, Mick asked, “What happened to doing a tarot reading for Mrs Anderson?”

Looking up from his device with a grin, Brady replied, “She got what she wanted and left already.”

“Let me guess,” Mick began as she perched herself on the armrest of her dad’s chair, “she thought her husband was cheating again and wanted to see if it was her sister or the new neighbor?”

“Almost,” Brady chuckled, placing his phone on his leg as he handed Mick his drink for her to try. “She thought it could be the mailman.”

Grateful she hadn’t taken a sip of her father’s drink, Mick let out a bark of laughter, “She thought Mr Anderson - the pastor of their church - was having an affair with her husband?”

Brady hummed, nodding in confirmation as he rhetorically asked, “Who doesn’t she accuse her husband of cheating with?”

Mick snickered as she handed her father his drink, “Ironic from the woman who has been divorced five times because of her cheating.”

With a shrug, Brady said, “It’s not our place to judge.”

“True.”

After taking a sip of his drink, Brady said, “Your mom and I are heading out early to meet with some friends from school who are back in town for the week. Do you think you, Miles, Carrie, and the kids can handle the shop until closing?”

Nodding, Mick smiled at the idea as she said, “Yeah, of course. We handled it for months on our own before.”

Groaning at the twinge of pain that had grown familiar in his lower back, Brady regretted all of the reckless things he had done in his teen years as he pushed himself out of his chair. Despite only recently turning forty, his body felt as though it belonged to someone nearing eighty. Brady suppressed a grimace as he stretched before turning to his daughter and saying, “That was before you were possessed by ancient magic.”

Taking in a deep breath, Mick slowly nodded in understanding. Regardless of how much she despised how easily that was everyone’s excuse for giving her lighter tasks, Mick understood where they were coming from. If what happened to her had happened to anybody else in her immediate circle, she would have acted the same. Offering her dad a slight grin, Mick allowed him to lean down and press a kiss to her forehead before saying, “I get it, but honestly, I’m doing pretty well today.”

“Good,” Brady mused. “Try to keep it that way.”

“I will,” Mick claimed as the door to the basement opened, allowing Miles and Carrie to come in.

Brady hummed appreciatively before turning toward the young couple with a smile, “Did you two find that book I told you about?”

“We did,” Carrie said, offering the man her signature smile as Miles held up the thick hardcover book. “Do you really think it’ll help the kids?”

“It should,” Brady stated. “I didn’t get much use out of it, as you know, but it’s been in the family for many generations. If it helped them, why not let the kids use it?”

Miles nodded as he examined the book. The leather bindings were worn and peeling, the spine flexible yet delicate, and it smelled of an old library book that had been left on the shelves for a couple hundred years, but the pages were still crisp, and the ancient calligraphy was very clearly legible. While on the outside, the book certainly looked aged and well-loved, the pages still read as clear as day, making Miles question if it had some sort of protection charm that stood the test of time. Grinning to himself, Miles fleetingly wondered if the book in his hands was the origin of people saying not to judge books by their covers.

Lifting his gaze to meet Brady’s, Miles spoke, “Thanks again, Mr Birch. I know the kids would be interested in diving into actual spells and potions.”

Brady waved him off, “It’s not like I’m getting any use out of it, Miles. However, I do suggest asking your mother to help them with anything involving baking.”

“She is one of the best bakers in Salem,” Mick mused.

Before Brady could say anything more, the back room opened, and his wife’s head poked inside. “I hate to interrupt,” Mack began, “but it’s almost two, Brady.”

Heaving a sigh, Brady clapped his hands and said, “Well, duty calls, kids.”

As her husband gathered his belongings, Mack asked, “Mick, honey, are you going over to Miles’ house after work?”

“I was thinking about it,” Mick shrugged. “The kids wanted to work on some beginner-level potions.”

“Are you staying for dinner?” Brady asked.

“She’d better,” Miles said before Mick could answer. “My mom said she’s making pizza casserole.”

Mick snickered, “I guess I’m staying for dinner then.”

“Alright,” Mack said with a smile, “well, we’ll be back home around six or seven to watch the eclipse if your father can get his butt in gear.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Brady claimed as he pulled his coat around his shoulders. Leaning down, Brady kissed the top of his daughter’s head before whispering to her, “Bring me back some of that casserole.”

“I will,” Mick said with a grin.

“You don’t need any casserole, Brady,” Mack claimed with a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. “We’re going out to Hanna Devine’s.”

Brady’s expression said it all. Unlike most of the little bistros and restaurants in the city, Hanna Devine’s was a large building on the corner of a busy street that charged prices through the roof for a portion barely significant enough to qualify as a meal. Between the hassle of finding a parking spot and the extensive waitlist for a single table, the restaurant was usually only inhabited by insane people who didn’t mind paying forty dollars for a small piece of steak or twenty-five bucks for a side order of steamed vegetables. Despite attempting to get his point across with a pleading look, Brady found his wife’s piercing gaze and quickly schooled his expression as he sighed, “Yes, ma’am.”

Rolling her eyes with a smile, Mick turned her gaze back to her daughter and said, “If there’s enough, bring us both back some. Chances are, we’ll still be hungry when we leave.”

Making his way to the door of the room, Brady beamed, “This is why I love you.”

“Because I let you get leftovers?” Mack questioned as Brady kissed her cheek. “What about when we got married or when I had to endure nine months of Mick’s punches to my bladder?”

“Of course I loved you then,” Brady stated. “It’s just that I really wanted that casserole.”

“And because I let you have it,” Mack slowly stated, “that’s your primary reason for loving me now?”

As Brady floundered, scouring his mind for something to say, Mick snickered, “Way to word things, Dad.”

“Good luck getting out of that one,” Carrie chuckled.

“There’s a store you can stop at on the way to Hanna’s that sells shovels since you seem to be in a hurry to dig your own grave, Mr Birch,” Miles said with a grin.

“None of you are helping!” Brady exclaimed, looking around at the three young adults with a gleam in his eyes that begged for them to shut up.

Choosing to end her husband’s struggle, Mack snickered, patting him on the arm fondly, “I’m just screwing with you. Now, come on, let’s get on the road before school gets out, and we’re stuck behind eight different buses.”

With a sigh of relief, Brady relaxed, turning back toward the kids with a small smile as he said, “Be good, remember to lock up the shop, and please, for the love of all things holy, remember to bring us back some casserole if there’s any left.”

As Mick gave her dad a mock salute, Miles chuckled, “We’ve got everything under control.”

“Enjoy your dinner with friends,” Carrie said, offering the older couple a wave as they left the room. Once the door was closed, the blonde turned to Mick with a smile and asked, “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m fine, for once,” the brunette replied. “I haven’t had any headaches since this morning when the trash truck came, and I’ve gotten through most of the day without needing to step out.”

“That’s good,” Miles said thoughtfully as he set the book for the kids on the couch. “Do you feel up to taking the register until closing?”

Eager to feel useful again, Mick quickly nodded as she said, “Yeah, of course. Are you going to restock or are you going to pick up the kids?”

Checking his watch, Miles said, “I’ll probably pick them up. If I get there early and find their bikes, I’ll put them on the rack before the bell rings.”

Leading the way to the main room of the shop, Mick mused, “Soon, they’ll be needing a ride every day.”

“Especially since it snowed two nights ago,” Miles sighed as he rounded the counter.

“Don’t mention that word,” Carrie said with a shiver. “I was hoping it would hold off until Christmas or something and then never come back.”

“Wishful thinking,” Mick snorted.

Carrie sighed as she slumped against the counter, resting her chin in the palm of her hand, “At least we’re not supposed to get any more for a while.”

“When did you hear that?” Mick wondered.

Tugging her phone from her pocket and unlocking it, Carrie swiped around for a moment before showing her friend her weather app. “My phone says the next week or so is clear.”

Mick examined the weather listing before tapping on the screen, “We’ve got rain on Saturday and Wednesday, though. That can become snow if it gets cooler out.”

“But the app says it’s just rain,” Carrie said hopefully.

“It’s New England,” Miles chuckled as he zipped up his jacket. “The forecast lies.”

Carrie let out a resigned sigh, “I know, but I’m staying as optimistic as possible.”

“Good luck with that,” Miles muttered, his breath brushing across Carrie’s cheek as he leaned in for a kiss. “Do you guys want anything while I’m out?”

“A million dollars,” Mick joked.

“Weathermen who won't lie,” Carrie added.

“A will to live.”

“Magical powers.”

Glancing between the pair, Miles sighed and rolled his eyes, “I meant things I can pick up from the gas station.”

“Ah,” Carrie breathed. “In that case, I’ll take some cherry Twizzlers.”

“I guess I’ll take some cheesy popcorn,” Mick said with a grin.

“Puffcorn or Smartfood?” Miles asked.

“Smartfood,” Mick said before thanking her friend.

“Weirdos,” Miles mused as he typed in their requests on his phone, knowing the pair would be sharing snacks in no time.

“Proud of it,” the two girls said in startling unison before turning to each other and laughing.

With a shake of his head and a fond smile, Miles pulled his keys out of his pocket and headed out the door, passing the shop’s picture windows on his way to his Jeep. Smiling to herself, Mick turned her attention to the music playing over the store’s speakers, switching the radio station to one she knew both she and Carrie enjoyed. As something other than smooth jazz filled the shop, Carrie bopped her head to the beat with a smile before turning her gaze to Mick once more.

The last two weeks had felt like an eternity. She had watched Mick struggle the first couple of days - the brunette unable to pull herself out of her thoughts. Carrie had spent some time talking things over with Mick during that time, listening to her ramble nonsensically about all that had happened to her and all the struggles she faced. The first two days, Mick had been in a daze, operating on a repetitive cycle out of habit more than anything. Carrie spent a lot of time helping at the register as Mick would often stare off into space or lock herself away in the back room due to headaches. The first few days were difficult as Mick asked people to give her time to think and process, but it seemed to everyone that she had closed herself off from everything and everyone.

Mick’s relationships with everyone who was there that night had grown strained in that time - the only ones not suffering being Butchy and Lela, as they were only there for the aftermath. Whilst saying they hadn’t always gotten along well in school was an understatement, Carrie and Mick had grown close after Miles started dating the blonde. Over time, a bond had formed, but after Mick’s possession, Carrie could feel the distance between them growing once more. Everyone could. Though the brunette never outright pushed anybody away, they all knew she had come close to it more than once.

Carrie had never seen Mick so despondent and detached as she was in those first days. It took Miles climbing the tree in the Birch family’s backyard and climbing in through Mick’s window for her to begin talking to anyone who had been there. Understandably, Miles was the first person she opened up to as they had always been inexplicably close, but then she opened up to Carrie, and the blonde got to see more of the girl’s inner thoughts laid out before her like a jigsaw puzzle.

The strain Mick felt was palpable. Her hurt was nearly insurmountable, the stress was overwhelming, and the pain she felt whilst reliving and retelling her side of things was evident in her eyes. It took just shy of a week before Mick felt comfortable having the kids around her again. The thought that whatever was left in her might come back to hurt the kids had plagued her night and day, but after hearing that Vivien blamed herself for the older girl being distant, Mick forced herself to meet with them in the Common. They sat on opposite sides of the pavilion Saturday night, Mick asking Miles to tie her to the table with a scarf to keep her from hurting anybody, and that was the first time Carrie felt like crying about Mick’s situation. The thought that the bubbly, doting brunette was so afraid of hurting the kids made Carrie saddened and sick at the same time. Mick didn’t deserve to be scared of every move she made.

By the end of their conversation that night, things had begun to heal, but anyone who knew them could still feel the remnants of strain between Mick and Vivien. Things were slowly getting better between them, but Carrie quickly took note of the wistful glimpses Vivien would sneak of the older girl. Though Carrie, like everyone else, was sure things would return to normal - or some semblance of it, at the very least - she knew it would take time.

Listening to Mick hum along to the radio, Carrie glanced around to guarantee the shop was empty of customers before clearing her throat and asking, “Speaking of magical powers, I heard that Vivien was trying to find a way to give you some the other day.”

Brown eyes lifted from Mick’s phone and fleetingly met Carrie’s azure gaze before Mick shrugged and returned her focus to her phone, “She was, yeah.”

“I think it’s sweet that she’s trying so hard.”

To Carrie’s chagrin, Mick only shrugged again, “I guess so, but I wish she wouldn’t.”

“What do you mean?” Carrie questioned. “I thought you wanted powers like theirs?”

“That was before I was possessed,” Mick admitted, meeting Carrie’s gaze once more. “I would have done anything for some magic back then.”

“But now?”

“Now I’m scared to even think about having magic.”

Carrie’s smile faltered at the weight of Mick’s statement. In a way, she should have expected that to be Mick’s answer, but in reality, she hadn’t thought about it from the brunette’s perspective. Vivien had gone to Carrie looking for help researching how to give someone magic, and although the pair had spent hours scouring through old books filled with runes and spells and potions, they hadn’t found anything that would allow Vivien to do what she wanted to.

Attempting to appear unfazed, Carrie asked, “How come? With your family’s long, magical bloodline, I would’ve throught you’d want to follow them.”

“I did,” Mick sighed, setting her phone aside in favor of the conversation at hand. “I wanted it more than anything. But now that I know how dangerous I could be if I let power get to my head, I’m sort of glad my dad cut off the line when he did.”

Taking in a slow breath, Carrie asked, “That really bothered you, huh?”

Mick hummed with a nod, “It’s hard to act as though it doesn’t, but I’m trying. I just-” Mick cut herself off with a sigh, “I wish I never read that damn book.”

“What-?”

Before Carrie could get anything more out, Mick cut her off, “If I’d never read that book, I wouldn’t have to live with constant headaches or people looking at me like I’m made of glass or everyone acting as though they need to walk on fucking eggshells around me!” Stopping to take in a breath, Mick ran her hands over her hair before sighing, “What hurts the most is living with the fact that all of this is my fault.”

Though Carrie didn’t want to push her luck with Mick, she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “How on earth is any of this your fault?”

“If I hadn’t tried to weasel my way into magic,” Mick began slowly, meeting the blonde’s gaze with nothing but sincerity in her caramel eyes, “we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“It wasn’t like you read the book on purpose,” Carrie offered. “Even Butchy said that Casper knocked it over and you just read the first page you came across.”

“He’s right,” Mick confirmed, “but that doesn’t change the fact that, if I hadn’t made the black flame candle or been so determined to give myself magic, none of this would have happened.”

Carrie sighed, placing a hand on Mick’s arm in the hope that it offered the girl some semblance of comfort, “You don’t know that for a fact.”

“That’s just it,” Mick said, a dry, humorless chuckle falling from her lips as her exhausted brown eyes found Carrie’s vibrant blue, “I do.”

“Have a great night,” Royce said as he handed a paper bag to the last customer of the day. He didn’t know how Miles and the girls could handle working there all day, dealing with people in various moods, and handling children being generally obnoxious; he could only handle it for a few hours without wanting to leave. He didn’t mind most of the people who came and went, but there were a select few who were just pure negativity. While Mondays were usually slow in the shop, Royce was surprised to find the clock already ticking over to five as he looked up at the clock. Maybe the time had flown because he, Bentley, and Vivien had the chance to get their homework done between customers for once. Or, as Miles had teasingly suggested, it was due to the fact that he kept watching Vivien help people find crystals.

Royce discretely rolled his eyes at the thought - of course, Miles would tease him for something so small. It was payback for when Royce teased the shit out of Miles when he got with Carrie. Although Miles kept his relationship with Carrie under wraps from their mom, he hadn’t been so lucky when it came to his brothers. At first, his relationship with Carrie was nonexistent, but after a little over a year of them being together and seeing their mom gradually grow to enjoy having the blonde around, Royce found himself not minding Carrie nearly as much as he had initially. Now that he got along alright with Carrie, it was easier to tease Miles about the relationship, ironically giving Miles the right to tease him about Vivien in return.

It wasn’t like Miles and Bentley hadn’t teased him about his fondness for Vivien long before Carrie came into the picture, but it seemed as though Miles felt the situation evened out the playing field. It made sense in a way. Not only was Vivien one of his best friends, but everyone around them knew he had a thing for her. It wasn’t exactly a secret. In a way, he was sure Vivien knew as well, but he couldn’t tell how she felt on the matter. She never pushed him away - it wasn’t in her nature to anyway - but she also never acted upon what was going on. If she felt anything toward him, she never said, but then again, he never really did either. All he knew was that he adored her and, regardless of her feelings toward him, he would care about her until she told him to do otherwise.

Tearing his gaze away from Vivien once more as the door clicked shut, the bells tinkling a final farewell, Royce took in a deep breath and looked around the store for his younger brother. Almost on cue, Bentley pushed himself from his seat on the floor where he’d been reading comic books and scurried to the door, flipping the lock into place with a smile. Turning back to his brother and Vivien, the blond excitedly asked, “Is it potion time now?”

Chuckling as Royce tugged the cash register drawer from its confines, Vivien nodded, “I think it is.”

Setting the drawer on the shelf under the register, Royce leaned against the counter and asked, “Why don’t you go back and tell them that the lady finally left and that we can leave?”

Sending his brother a mock salute, Bentley beamed and set his comic book on the counter before saying, “Sir, yes, sir,” and taking off for the back room, the door swinging back and forth upon his departure. Royce shook his head, sighing as Bentley disappeared. For the greater part of the last week, he’d been subjected to Bentley’s ramblings on potions and which ones he was willing to make. While Royce was glad his younger brother was excited, he sort of wished it wasn’t the only thing they talked about when nobody else was around.

Vivien chuckled, leaning against the counter with a smile, “You know, I think it’s pretty cool that he’s so interested in all this witchy stuff.”

“Yeah, it is,” Royce agreed with a nod. Taking in a breath, Royce began sorting the money from the cash register as Vivien picked up the logbook and started writing down how many of each bill they had. As he finished with the twenties and set them aside, Royce turned to Vivien and asked, “Wait, didn’t you say something earlier about a magic thing you needed to talk about?”

Penciling in the number of bills Royce had counted, Vivien glanced up and nodded, “I did, but let’s finish this first and we’ll talk with the others about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm.”

Despite his visible skepticism, Royce gave the brunette a slight nod and said, “Alright, if you’re sure.”

Vivien nodded her confirmation before urging Royce to continue counting. By the time they were done and the money was put into the safe under the register, the shop’s speakers had been turned off, and the streetlamps outside were on, moths fluttering around them and casting shadows on the sidewalk. Closing the safe and locking it, Vivien followed Royce to the back room where Mick and Miles were debating whether the herbs they had received in the latest shipment should be placed with the hanging herbs or ground and placed with the jars of herbs while Bentley talked Carrie’s ear off on the couch. As Royce latched the swinging door to keep it from moving, Mick paused in her tirade, glancing over at the young pair as they entered the room.

Sensing Mick’s gaze as the conversations in the room stalled, Vivien slowly turned in the older girl’s direction, raising a hand in a wave as she spoke, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Mick returned as Miles dropped the issue in favor of observing the interaction. Vivien and Mick hadn’t talked often since Halloween, and although Miles had encouraged both of them to step up and put in the effort, his advice seemed to go in one ear and out the other as the two danced on eggshells around each other. After Miles nudged his longtime friend, encouraging her to put in a bit more effort, Mick smiled and said, “I like your hoodie.”

Vivien glanced down and allowed herself to grin. Her blue and yellow hoodie had been bought off of Etsy and was embroidered with a subtle nod toward the most recent Five Nights at Freddy’s game - a small logo for the Security Breach’s daycare declaring Vivien as a staff member. She had bought more than just the one hoodie from the Etsy shop, blasting her way through most of her first official paycheck as she bought one of each of her favorite characters’ fleece hoodies and matching sweatpants. Despite her love of the game, Vivien had chosen to take the more discreet route in choosing her outfit for the day, keeping things moderately simple to avoid unnecessary attention. Although her hair had covered the design for most of the day, she had pulled her hair back while counting the money, so it seemed only fitting that the one person who had gotten her interested in the franchise was also the one to notice the detail.

Lifting her head, Vivien smiled and began indirectly quoting the game, “I figured we could finger paint, tell some stories, maybe drink some Fizzy Fazz until our heads explode, and then stay up all night.”

“As fun as that sounds,” Carrie began, “I would much rather we keep our heads intact, thank you very much.”

Sighing as she theatrically rolled her eyes, Vivien huffed, “You’re no fun!”

Mick let out a slight snicker, “As long as we keep the lights on, I doubt any of us will lose our heads.”

As Vivien snorted, dissolving into giggles at Mick’s hinted joke, Carrie glanced between the pair and said, “I’m just going to assume that’s something from the game.”

“It is,” Bentley confirmed.

“And you’re not missing much,” Miles added as he crossed the room to gather his belongings.

“Just a murderous animatronic daycare attendant who hunts you down and kills you if you turn the lights off,” Royce finished with a smirk aimed at the blonde, “that’s all.”

“That’s all?” Carrie echoed, mildly concerned that they had all found an interest in such a game. Attempting to process the thought as both Royce and Bentley nodded in confirmation, Carrie’s eyes widened slightly before closing as she shook her head and sighed, “I don’t know how you can find that entertaining.”

“You would if you played it,” Vivien chuckled.

“Doubtful.”

Choosing to steer the conversation away from the topic at hand, Miles leaned against the armrest of the couch and tucked his hands into his pockets as he said, “Anyway, does anyone need to grab anything before we go?”

Despite the others shaking their heads, Royce said, “Viv said she wanted to talk about something after closing.”

Though she hated the feeling of having everyone’s eyes on her, Vivien was surprisingly calm as she nodded, “I did, yeah.”

“What’s up?” Bentley asked as he moved to sit criss-cross on the couch.

Taking a deep breath as Mick pulled a chair out from the table they usually ate lunch at on weekends and sat down, Vivien thought back to her time at school as she said, “I was on my way to the vending machine at school and I ran into Serena.”

“How is she doing now that she and that other girl have gone their separate ways?” Carrie asked.

“Yeah,” Mick began, “are they leaving you guys alone now?”

“I mean, yeah, but that’s not the point,” Vivien said. “The point is, when I went to walk around her, she grabbed my arm and it was like the whole school lost color.”

Curiously, Miles’ head tipped to the side as he asked, “Like the lights went out?”

“I didn’t notice anything,” Bentley mentioned.

“No, not like that,” Vivien sighed. Taking a moment to think of something to compare it to, Vivien gestured to the group as she spoke, “Okay, do you guys remember that scene from Harry Potter where Harry meets Dumbledore in the limbo version of the train station and there’s that creepy Voldemort thing under the bench?”

As everyone began nodding, Mick asked, “After Voldemort tried killing him in the forest?”

Vivien nodded, “Exactly. Serena held my arm and the whole school looked like that. Then, when I looked back at her, she was standing in some kind of glass case, banging on the walls and screaming.”

As though Vivien had unplugged a hidden speaker, the room grew silent. Carrie’s sapphire eyes flickered to Mick before landing back on Vivien as Mick’s chocolate eyes flitted down to the floor. Miles took in the seriousness and sincerity in Vivien’s face before moving his gaze onto Mick, wondering to himself if what Vivien described was something she had seen two weeks prior. As Bentley searched Vivien’s face for any sign that she was joking, Royce took a seat beside his younger brother.

Looking up at Vivien, the middle Murphy brother asked, “Is that why you looked so pale when I found you?”

“That’s part of it,” Vivien nodded. “My blood pressure was low anyway, but the whole Serena thing didn’t exactly help.”

Miles uncrossed his arms as he asked, “How are you now?”

“I’m fine, but that’s not what matters right now,” Vivien sighed. “After Serena let me go, everything around us went back to normal, but there was something about her that just felt off to me.”

Cautiously, Carrie asked, “Like what?”

“Like she wasn’t herself,” Vivien explained.

“She’s always kind of snarky and rude,” Royce mused with a roll of his eyes.

Vivien nodded, “Well, yeah, but there was this sort of direct, emotionless, borderline-cold tone under it all. It was kind of like - well, I don’t know, actually. It’s hard to describe.”

For the first time since Vivien explained what her interaction with Serena was like, Mick spoke, her tone soft but tense as she asked, “Sort of like she was in the car, but someone else was at the wheel?”

Vivien’s head turned, slowly finding Mick’s form as the brunette’s head lifted, her dark eyes finding Vivien’s with relative ease. Taking in the older girl’s expression, Vivien took in a breath and slowly nodded as she muttered, “Yeah.”

Although the room had grown tense, Carrie scooted to the edge of her seat and attempted to smile as she suggested, “That doesn’t mean Serena’s possessed. She could be having trouble at home or something; that can change someone’s behavior.”

“But what about the vision Viv saw?” Bentley asked.

Before Carrie could answer, Mick spoke again, “From what I remember, I never gave anybody visions.”

“You didn’t,” Miles confirmed with a slight shake of his head, “but that doesn’t rule it out entirely.”

Trying to offer something other than the worst possible scenario, Carrie stood from the couch and made her way to the growing pile of books the kids had left by the bookshelf as she said, “What if it’s something different entirely?”

“Like what?” Royce asked sarcastically. “It sounds a lot like Serena is possessed.”

“And maybe she is,” Carrie said as she began pulling books from the pile and setting them aside. Taking a book from the stack with a smile, Carrie held it up for the others to see as she asked, “But what if there’s a different way to go about this? That way, we don’t have to go about doing another exorcism.”

“What do you have in mind?” Mick asked as Carrie began flipping through the old, worn book.

“My first thought was astral projections,” Carrie confessed. “I’ve been looking through some of these books to see if I could figure out how the kids’ abilities could branch into other forms of magic over time and training, but the only one to offer any help was this one.”

Peering over the blonde’s shoulder as the pages flicked by, Vivien asked, “What did you find?”

Carrie hummed until she found the proper page, pointing to an extensive paragraph as she began reading aloud, “‘Astral projection, also known as astral travel or out-of-body experience, is the practice of separating one’s consciousness from their physical body and traveling to the astral realm. The astral realm is said to be a non-physical realm that exists parallel to the physical world, where energy and consciousness exist in a different form. In this realm, one can explore different planes of existence, communicate with spirits and other entities, and gain a deeper understanding of themselves and the universe. Some records in history suggest that witches as far back as medeival times used these projections to communicate with others possessing the same abilities. One of the most infamous records of astral projection was written by a supposed witch who was later hung for witchcraft during the Salem Witch Trials. The document speaks of witches talking to one another on another plane of existence, warning other accused witches of what was to come.’”

Following along as best as she could over Carrie’s shoulder, Vivien said, “That could be what happened.”

“It sounds like it,” Bentley mused.

“I would prefer that over having to deal with another possessed person roaming through Salem,” Mick piped up.

“Hang on,” Royce began as he stood from his seat. “What if it’s both?”

“Both?” Miles asked.

Royce nodded, “What if the real Serena is possessed, but she’s projecting to Vivien as a way of asking for help?”

After a moment of silence passed over the room, Mick said, “That makes sense. When I was possessed, it felt like I was trapped inside myself. The real Serena being trapped inside a glass box is sort of fitting.”

“So,” Bentley drawled as he glanced around at everybody, “what do we do about it?”

“We could lure her to the church,” Miles offered.

“No, we can’t,” Mick sighed. “Most of the churches in the area are either having meetings for Thanksgiving food donations or hosting events tonight.”

“How did you find that out?” Royce asked with a raised eyebrow.

“My parents were going to use one of the dining halls for their school reunion,” Mick shrugged.

“Alright,” Vivien breathed. “Where else could we take her?”

“What about a cemetery?” Carrie suggested. “Those are hallowed ground, right?”

“Yeah, because nothing screams serial killer quite like luring someone to a cemetary after dark,” Royce snipped, earning himself a nudge to the ribs from Bentley.

“How about we lure her to our house?” Miles offered.

“Are you insane?” Bentley asked as everyone else began arguing over the thought. “Not only would it be stupid to bring a possessed witch to our house, but Mom’s home tonight. If Serena tries to fight us, we can’t fight back in front of her.”

“Hear me out,” Miles began. Once the room was quiet once more, he continued, “Because mom bakes a lot, she’s got a ton of salt in the pantry. If we go around the house and put up a salt ring to protect ourselves inside the house, Serena can’t touch us.”

“Her magic would bounce off,” Mick said thoughtfully.

Miles nodded, “Exactly.”

Once the concept had settled within everyone’s minds, Royce spoke up, “How are we going to get her there?”

Before Miles could come up with anything, Carrie gestured between Vivien and Royce as she asked, “Do either of you share a class with her that has a test coming up; something that would require a lot of notes for?”

Vivien shook her head, “We both have science with her, but we don’t have any tests until next Friday.”

“I have geography with her,” Royce sighed. “We’ve got a test on Thursday for the semester’s closing grades.”

“Well,” Carrie began, a devilish smile tugging at her glossy lips, “you could text her and say that you have a bunch of notes for the test that she can use if she needs them.”

“How would that draw her in?” Miles wondered.

“Normally, it wouldn’t,” Vivien explained, “but if she is possessed, whatever it is won’t know that.”

“Exactly,” Carrie agreed, beaming proudly at the brunette.

Royce thought for a moment before slowly speaking, “So I lure her to the house with geography notes - that much I get - but what do we do after that?”

“We’ll figure it out as we go,” Mick said as she rose from her seat. “For now, let’s gather some protection crystals and get going before we lose our opportunity.”

“What do you suggest?” Carrie asked.

Instead of answering directly, Mick turned to Vivien on her way to the front of the shop and asked, “Vivien?”

“What?” the young brunette asked as she followed Mick to the shop.

With a proud smile, Mick held the door open for the others as she explained, “This is your area of expertise, gremlin; what do you think?”

As a surge of pride coursed through Vivien’s veins, she beamed. Reining herself in, Vivien glanced over the round tables covered in baskets of crystals before humming, “Maybe some black obsidian or malachite to keep toxic energy away, and moldavite for some good luck?”

Royce and Bentley descended on the tables, pulling crystals from their containers and tucking them in their pockets before making their way back to where Vivien and Mick stood. “Anything else?” Bentley asked.

“What about fluorite or citrine?” Royce asked. “You said those are pretty lucky.”

“They are,” Vivien agreed, “but more for personal luck than anything.”

“I think we should be good with what we’ve got,” Mick said. “I have some sage in my car that we can leave on the front steps to ward off any evil intentions.”

“And we’ll have enough salt to keep her out just in case,” Miles agreed as he fished his keys from his pocket.

Clapping her hands together, Carrie smiled as she said, “In that case, let’s hit the road before it gets much darker out.”

Though the others followed Carrie and Miles to the back room to lock up, Vivien stared at the crystals before her, wondering if she had made the right call. Glancing back over her shoulder at the group, Vivien sighed and took a step forward, shoving a small slab of black onyx, a few pieces of smithsonite, and a couple of shards of moonstone into her pocket before turning and following the others out, slipping the lock into place behind her. Trailing behind the others, Vivien picked up the pace, pulling the already locked door closed after grabbing her coat and backpack from the hooks on the back wall and rushing to catch up with the others who had already begun rounding the building. As she tugged on her coat, Vivien allowed Bentley to hold the gate open for her, thanking him as she slung her backpack strap onto her shoulder.

Miles unlocked his Jeep and opened the passenger side doors for his brothers and girlfriend as Mick made her way to the beat-up Volkswagen she had bought from one of the older guys who frequented the shop. Before Viviuen could climb inside the Jeep, Miles closed the door behind Bentley. “Not so fast, kid.”

Looking up at her pseudo-older brother, Vivien raised an eyebrow and asked, “What; are you planning on shoving me in the trunk?”

“Not after last time,” Miles said with a snort. “Look, Ethan left his junk in the back seat this morning and I barely have enough room for the boys as it is.”

Noticing the way Miles refused to look her in the eyes, Vivien sighed, “You just want me to ride with Mick, don’t you?”

Apologetic, icy blue eyes flickered up to meet Vivien’s as the brunette crossed her arms over her chest. “Sorry, mon étoile, but I think she needs you now.”

Slowly tearing her gaze away from Miles and letting her eyes drift onto the older brunette who appeared to be struggling to open her old bus’ driver’s door, Vivien let out a deep sigh, “Fine, but you owe me.”

“I know,” Miles said with a gracious smile, bringing an arm around the girl as he walked her to the back of the Jeep. “Thank you, kiddo.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Vivien brushed off, leaning her head against Miles for a moment before moving out from his hold and making her way to the old Volkswagen just a few parking spaces down. Upon approaching the vehicle, Vivien called out, “Did you lock yourself out again or something?”

Jumping at the sudden voice, Mick looked up and laughed, “For once, no. The doors have been sticking lately because of the cold. Do you think you could climb in through the passenger side and kick it open?”

“Why not just climb in before me and we can go?” Vivien asked, gesturing to the car as Miles started his Jeep.

“I have the door partially open and it won’t stop dinging unless I close it, but how come you’re riding with me?” Mick asked as she let go of the latch. “I thought you’d be riding with Miles and Carrie.”

Vivien shrugged in an attempt to act nonchalant as she rounded the large vehicle and yanked the passenger door open, “Ethan left a bunch of shit in the car, so there’s no room, but I also just wanted to ride with you anyway.”

“You do?” Mick asked as she stepped away from the door, her voice muffled by the thick metal and glass of the car.

“Well, yeah,” Vivien said as she dropped into the driver’s seat and began kicking the door. Once the heavy door popped open, she leaned out to Mick and said, “I feel like we haven’t really hung out since Halloween and I miss you.”

Hoping the younger girl couldn’t see the pain in her eyes as she took her spot in the driver’s seat, Mick spoke softly, “I miss you too, gremlin.”

As the old bus’ engine roared to life and the clunky radio sputtered through static to the first available station, Vivien tugged her seatbelt on and offered the girl to her left a smile as she said, “I’m sort of glad you missed me.”

“You are?” Mick asked as she pulled onto the streets behind Miles’ Jeep. “How come?”

“It felt like you were shutting me out after everything that happened,” Vivien admitted as she watched the shop’s storefront disappear in the rearview mirror.

“I’m sorry,” Mick muttered. “Things have been hard since Halloween.”

“I get it,” Vivien nodded, looking over to the older girl. “Believe me, after almost setting our kitchen on fire the other night, I get it.”

Despite offering the younger girl a laugh, Mick shook her head, “Somehow, I don’t think it’s quite the same.”

Vivien chuckled but took in a deep breath as she admitted, “I get what you mean, though. Things just aren’t the same anymore.”

“They aren’t.”

For a while, the only noise in the car was the radio between them, the sound of Harry Styles’ voice coming through the faint static of the scratchy speakers as his song As It Was began playing just loud enough to be heard over the engine. Vivien tried not to scoff at the irony of the situation, choosing to take in a slow, deep breath as she softly admitted, “Sometimes, I wish we never got magic in the first place.”

Pulling to a stop at a red light, Mick’s dark eyes flitted over to her young friend as she asked, “Why on earth would you want that?”

A ghost of a grin tugged at Vivien’s lips as she turned to Mick and admitted, “If we never got our magic, things never would have changed. The boys and I wouldn’t have to keep secrets from everyone we care about, we would all be able to live normal lives, you never would have been possessed…” taking in a deep breath, Vivien allowed her words to drift off and looked away as she finished, “you and I would still be close.”

“We can be close again,” Mick reminded her as she reached over and took hold of Vivien’s hand. “We can go back to our mall trips and sleepovers and stuff. It’ll just take some time getting there again.”

“I know,” Vivien breathed, squeezing Mick’s hand as she turned back toward the older girl. “It’s just… there are times when I miss just being a normal girl - worrying about prom and grades and friendships instead of having to worry about setting fire to my chemistry lab or summoning some ancient demon because I read a spell wrong.”

Sending the girl a wary look as the light turned green, Mick asked, “You didn’t actually do those things, did you?”

“No,” Vivien laughed as Mick pulled away from the traffic light. “I’m just saying that things were easier before and I sort of miss having that simplicity.”

Nodding in understanding, Mick took in a deep breath and said, “Well, if it means anything to you, I think you guys are doing amazingly. You’ve really come into your powers.”

“Thanks,” Vivien said with a smile. “I just wish I could give you some of it.”

Sending the girl a quick smile as she turned onto Forrester Street, Mick said, “I know you do, gremlin, but I guess some things just aren’t meant to be.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Mick said as she pulled into the driveway behind Miles. “I’ve sort of come to terms with it all.”

“That’s good, I guess,” Vivien offered.

“It is.” As Mick pushed her door open and released Vivien’s hand, she said, “Just know that I’m grateful to be able to watch you and the boys grow into your magic.”

“Thanks, Mickie,” Vivien said with a smile.

Mick nodded before siding out from her side of the car and slamming the door shut, making her way to the front of the vehicle, where Vivien met up with her. Following the others inside through the garage, Royce said, “I texted Serena, and she said she would be over after having something for dinner.”

“That should give us more than enough time to salt the house,” Miles said.

Bentley hurried up the steps to the door leading inside the house as he said, “I’ll distract Mom if you guys want to start grabbing salt.”

Stepping inside the kitchen, however, the group was surprised to find Dorothea tending to the crock pot on the kitchen counter. The older woman turned to her children and their gaggle of friends with a smile as she spoke, “You’re late.”

“Sorry, Mama,” the Murphy brothers replied on instinct.

Dorothea brushed them off with a slight wave before urging them into the kitchen, “Come get a bowl. I think we’ll eat in the living room tonight. We can watch a movie if you’d like.”

Cautiously stepping up to fulfill his role, Bentley said, “That sounds great, Mama, but can we set aside some food for Mick’s parents first? They’re going to something at Hanna Devine’s, and they said they’d still be hungry later.”

“That’s fine,” Dorothea claimed, glancing over Bentley at the girl in question. “You should know I always make enough for leftovers.”

“Thanks,” Mick said with a smile.

As soon as the woman turned to pull bowls from the cabinet, Miles grabbed Royce by the wrist and pulled toward the pantry. However, before they could do more than open the door, Dorothea’s voice stopped them, “Not so fast, boys.” Stilling against the door, Miles and Royce shared a startled look before leaning back to see their mother slowly turn back toward them with a knowing look on her face. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Grabbing popcorn for movie night?” Royce offered tentatively.

“No need, I already got it out,” the older woman said, gesturing to the box of microwavable popcorn bags on the counter. “What were you looking for this time? More salt?”

Miles tried to appear as nonchalant as possible as he stammered, “Wh-What? What are you- what do you mean?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice all of my salt going missing on Halloween,” Dorothea said with a shake of her head. “Or Royce’s laundry not needing to be done at all in the last two weeks, or the cookies in the jar never moving despite the crumbs all over the counter, or Bentley’s chocolate milk magically refilling every morning when I’m not looking.”

Stunned by the woman’s intuition, Bentley’s eyes widened as he slowly turned back toward his mom and asked, “You saw that?”

“I’m not blind, mon âme,” Dorothea told Bentley, a glimmer of something knowingly mischievous in her eyes as she smiled at her youngest. “Even without my own magic, I would be able to figure it out eventually.”

“Your own magic?” Carrie repeated curiously.

“You have magic?” Mick asked.

“That I do, lutin d’eau,” Dorothea said with a nod. “How else would my children have their abilities?”

“My parents don’t have magic,” Vivien said with a shrug.

Sending the young girl a look that made her begin doubting herself, the woman asked, “Are you sure about that?”

Vivien opened her mouth to reply but found the words dying off in her throat as she slowly admitted, “Not anymore.”

“So, wait,” Miles began, “Mom, you’re a witch?”

Dorothea nodded, “Have been since I was about sixteen, yes.”

“And you knew we had magic?” Royce asked.

“It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out,” Dorothea chuckled. “Most people who have had their magic for a while can tell when another magical person is around. The energy is different.”

“What are your powers?” Bentley asked.

Gesturing to the food on the counter, Dorothea claimed, “Most of the time, I use magic in my foods. Before you leave the house, I make breakfast with protection charms or herbs. Before bed, you have some of my special cookies to make you sleep peacefully. I make sure that, no matter what, you are protected and happy while eating the things you like.”

Although every other person looked reasonably impressed with the matriarch’s claim, Miles was the first to ask, “How did we not know?”

“Because it’s all you’ve ever known from me,” Dorothea shrugged as she leaned against the counter. “I wasn’t always a master chef or baker.”

With his jaw practically on the floor, Royce grinned as he asked, “Have you ever spelled us without us knowing?”

“Of course,” the woman replied. “Why do you think I always offered you goodies when you thought you would be in trouble?”

“Those were magic brownies?” Vivien asked, stepping up to the woman and rifling through one of the overhead cabinets before pulling down a glass jar of cookies and brownies. Setting the jar on the counter and pulling a brownie from the jar, she asked, “Can I have one? What will it make me do?”

Curious to see the outcome, Dorothea smirked and gestured for the girl to eat the baked treat, “Why don’t you tell me?”

Vivien eyed the brownie for a moment before quickly taking a bite, keeping anyone from stopping her. As Carrie gasped and Mick and Miles stepped closer, Dorothea raised a hand and shook her head with an amused smile, making them stop in their tracks as Vivien hummed around the brownie, “You always make the best brownies.”

“Thank you,” Dorothea chuckled.

“No, like, seriously,” Vivien muttered as she swallowed. “I swear, if I ever get married, I would want a giant tray of just your brownies instead of a cake.”

“I’ll be sure to write that down,” the woman said with a smile. “Now, do me a favor and turn toward your friends.”

Not one to disobey the woman, Vivien turned, fluttering the fingers of her free hand in greeting as she took another bite of her brownie, “Now what?”

“Tell me what you think of each of them.”

Glancing curiously at the older woman, Vivien shrugged and swallowed the food in her mouth before allowing her gaze to land on Miles as she spoke, “Miles is the older brother I always wanted but never got. I can always call him if I need help with anything, and he’s supportive of everything I do. If it weren’t for him and Riven, I would be overworking myself constantly and struggling with a lot of mental health issues.”

Despite appearing minutely worried for Vivien as she took a final bite of her brownie, Miles’ expression softened as he asked, “Really?”

“Yeah,” Vivien said, clapping her hands together to rid them of crumbs. “I have a tendency to throw myself into things without any regard for my own well-being, but you always make me step back and think first. Riven helps when he can, but you’re always there for me, sort of like the big brother I always pictured in my head, but never got in real life.”

Before Miles could say anything more, Dorothea nudged the girl and asked, “What about Mick, Carrie, or the boys?”

“Well,” Vivien began, “Mick has known me since I was a baby and has been looking out for me like a sister for as long as I can remember. We used to hang out a lot, but since she was possessed on Halloween, she’s been distant.” Mick’s gaze fell to the old, creaky planks of wood beneath her feet, but she didn’t get much time to think as Vivien said, “I don’t know how to approach her most of the time, but I love her no matter what.”

Carrie placed a hand on Mick’s arm, sending the brunette a smile as her gaze snapped up to Vivien once more. “We’ll work on it together,” Mick offered.

“I know,” Vivien said. “Anyway, as for Carrie, I wasn’t sure what to think of you growing up because Mick said you were stuck up and prissy, but Miles liked you because you because you got along really well when you worked together on a project. Also, when the town was doing The Wizard of Oz a few years back, I wanted to be Dorothy, but you got the role instead because I was way too young, and I didn’t like that at the time which made me not like you until we started working on the show together and you were actually pretty cool with me. I really like you now and think that you’re a great addition to our little group.”

Despite the evident confusion on Vivien’s face as she finished speaking, Carrie’s signature smile appeared as she thanked the younger girl. Before giving Vivien the chance to ask questions, Dorothea cut in, “What about Bentley? How do you feel about him?”

As though a rubber band had snapped her back into place, Vivien’s gaze landed on Bentley, and she began, “Bentley is a lot like Oliver, and I would protect him with my life if I had to. He’s like this little golden retriever puppy that just showed up in my life one day, and I decided to keep him out of love. Even though he plays it off like no big deal, he’s very talented and is very emotionally intelligent. He knows when someone isn’t feeling right and will go out of his way to help them. He’s been family to me practically my whole life, and I think that, if platonic soulmates are a thing, he’s definitely one of mine.”

Deciding to wrap everything up instead of talking about what Vivien had said, Bentley looked to Royce and gestured to him as he asked, “What about Rolls?”

“Actually,” Dorothea interrupted, placing a hand over Vivien’s mouth before the girl could give more information than she wanted to, “I think that’s enough for now.”

As the woman slowly released Vivien and handed her the glass of water she had been sipping out of while making dinner, Vivien asked, “What was in that thing?”

“That was one of my truth-seeking brownies,” Dorothea claimed. “With a small dose of a potion mixed in the chocolate, one bite would make the one eating it tell the truth until the magic wore off with time or, in this case, water. Anytime the boys would get into trouble growing up, I would give them something like this to make sure I knew what had actually happened.”

“So that’s how you got me to tell you about the broken vase!” Bentley exclaimed accusatorily. Although Bentley hadn’t been the one to break their mother’s newly made, handmade vase - Royce had - he hadn’t been able to keep things under wraps long enough to fix the vase himself. His mom had given him a fresh-from-the-oven cookie, and he found himself spilling the beans without hesitation. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time as he had a tendency to ramble things without thinking, but now that his mother had made it clear that she was the reason, it all made sense.

“That’s right,” Dorothea said with a nod. “We can speak more about it later. For now, who would like to tell me why you feel the need to sneak into the pantry?”

Before giving anyone else a chance to speak, Vivien blurted, “One of our friends from school might be possessed by dark magic, and she’s coming here to get notes from Royce, so we planned on making a salt ring around the house to keep her from coming in.”

With a raised eyebrow, Carrie asked, “I thought you said water was supposed to get rid of the truth potion?”

“It takes a few minutes to work through,” Dorothea explained as she patted Vivien on the shoulder sympathetically.

“Oh, yay,” Vivien sighed sarcastically.

“Anyway,” Dorothea began as she turned toward the rest of her children and their friends, “since what she says is true, we’ll need to work fast. Miles, Carrie, and Mick, you three stay with me. I have some sage and other herbs we can hang by the doorway to ward off dark magic. Royce, Vivien, and Bentley, you three take the salt and follow each other around the house with it. The thicker the salt, the better. Just make sure it isn’t too obvious and keep the line as close to the front door as possible.”

As Vivien followed Bentley and Royce to the pantry to retrieve the salt, Dorothea turned the slow cooker onto low heat and waited for the kids to run outside through the back door before heading into the pantry and sliding open a panel on the back wall. Inside was a rotating, lazy-Susan-style shelving unit filled with bottles that contained either liquids, jars of various ground items, or herbs, and a rack of wrapped herbs dangling from above.

Examining the hidden unit, Miles asked, “When was that built?”

“Not long after your father left,” Dorothea answered as she began pulling things from the shelves. Holding out a bundle of wrapped sage, she said, “Now, split this evenly between you three and go smudge the doorways and windows while I make up a quick potion to drizzle over the salt circle. By the time the kids are done and the potion is ready, the girl should be on her way over.”

Without any argument, Miles took the sage from his mother and began unwrapping it, heading into the kitchen to grab a lighter from near the stove before handing out sage to Mick and Carrie. Watching her son and his friends move toward the front of the house, Dorothea took in a deep breath and pulled out her cell phone, tapping a few different things before bringing up the group chat she had with Mick’s parents, letting them know their daughter had arrived safely, and they would set aside some food for them. After receiving a message from Mack in return, thanking her for letting them know, Dorothea pocketed her phone once more and silently prayed that she would be able to protect the children in her care as she closed the pantry once more.

Before she could make her way to the living room, though, the door leading to the garage opened, and a faint surge of fiery power coursed through her. Curious, Dorothea turned and watched as a head of shoulder-length blonde hair pulled into a pair of half-up space buns stepped into the house, ditching a messenger backpack on the floor next to the door as it closed. Kona was quick to tug her detachable roller skates from her sneakers and shove them into her backpack as Dorothea smiled at her. Pushing her bangs from her face with a smile, Kona said, “Hey, Mrs Bentley’s Mom.”

“Kona,” Dorothea began, examining the shades of pink and teal that flooded the energy surrounding the girl, “I didn’t know you were coming over. We’re just about to eat; would you care to join us?”

“I can’t, actually,” Kona said with a sigh as she grabbed a cookie from the counter. “Dad’s making a traditional hawaiian dinner for Mom tonight, but I wanted to come over to talk with Ben, Royce, and Vivi.”

“They’re out back at the moment, but they should be in soon,” Dorothea said. “Is it something for school?”

“No, just friendship stuff,” Kona shrugged before taking a bite of her cookie. “Ben and I argued a bit this morning, but I talked it over with Zack and Gus after school and figured we could work things out tonight as a group.”

Nodding in understanding, Dorothea gestured to the dining table and said, “In the meantime, would you like to talk with me about it? I might offer an unbiased opinion.”

“I don’t know if I’m really supposed to say anything,” Kona began as she tugged one of the chairs out from the table, “but I assume that, if what he was saying is real, then you’d know about it too.”

“Most likely,” Dorothea agreed with a hum as she sat in Miles’ usual spot at the table. Sending the girl a comforting smile, she gestured with her hand and said, “The floor is yours.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Kona glanced around for any trace of Bentley before allowing herself to ramble, something she had always found relatively easy in the woman’s presence. She started her retelling of the morning - how her cat had woken her up by smothering her, her younger sister had refused to put clothes on before daycare, and her first attempt at waffles had made a disaster of the kitchen counters - then, she brought the story into the beginning of her school day. Quickly, she got into Bentley’s story and how he had pulled her aside like it was some big secret before telling her about all that had happened on Halloween.

Nodding along as though she hadn’t already surmised what happened that fateful day, Dorothea listened as Kona told her side of the conversation before asking a single question, “And you don’t believe him?”

Kona heaved a sigh, “It’s not like I don’t want to believe him - I do - it’s just really hard to. He sounded nervous, but that also made it sound like he was lying through his teeth.”

“I understand,” Dorothea nodded. “But, if you were in his shoes and you had to tell him that you possessed magic in some way, wouldn’t you be nervous as well?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Kona breathed. “I just didn’t think about it at the time.”

“Again, that’s understandable,” Dorothea said with a smile as she watched the array of colors around the girl swirl and shift with every thought that ran through her head. “So, what did Zack and August have to offer?”

“They sort of pointed out that Bentley’s a terrible liar and that I should maybe try sitting down and talking with him more to get the whole story,” Kona admitted. With a faintly nervous chuckle, she said, “So, here I am, ready to try a bit harder.”

“And you want Royce and Vivien there to verify everything?” Dorothea surmised.

Kona nodded, but before she could say anything, the front door opened, and like a herd of elephants, Bentley, Royce, and Vivien hurried into the house. As he led the way, Bentley called out, “Mama, we finished the salt circle. What do we do now?”

Upon finding Kona sitting across from his mother, Bentley’s voice faded into silence. While Bentley scrambled to find something to say and Royce’s eyes widened, Vivien offered a hesitant smile as she said, “Kona, what are you doing here?”

“We need to talk,” the blonde said as she pushed herself out of her seat. “Bentley told me about this whole witch business this morning and I want to have an actual conversation about it.”

“We can’t right now,” Royce stated apologetically as he checked the time on his phone. Serena would be there any minute; they didn’t have time for this!

“Why not?” Kona wondered, crossing her arms over her chest. Nodding toward Mrs Murphy, she said, “She let me talk with her. Why can’t we talk now?”

Before anyone could think of an answer, Carrie’s voice came from the stairs as she, Miles, and Mick came down from the upper floor, “We finished smudging the house.”

“Yeah,” Miles continued as they entered the kitchen. “What do we do now-” As his eyes landed on Kona, he asked, “What’s she doing here?”

“Looking for answers,” Kona replied. “What are you guys doing?”

Faintly feeling the effects of the brownie she had eaten earlier, Vivien replied, “Smudging and making salt circles to protect against dark magic.”

Sensing the growing frustration boiling within Kona’s small frame, Dorothea stood from her spot at the table and placed a placating hand on the girl’s shoulder. “I’ll explain in a moment. For now, you all need to keep an eye out for Serena. Go sit in the living room and do whatever you think is necessary before she gets here. I’ll handle this.”

Despite Royce and Vivien allowing Carrie and Mick to guide them into the living room, Bentley swallowed thickly as Miles tried guiding him away, muttering a soft, “I’m sorry, Kone,” as he turned back toward her for a fleeting moment.

Once Bentley was out of sight, Kona turned to Dorothea and asked, “What’s going on?”

“As I said, I’ll explain everything,” Dorothea said softly, gently guiding Kona back to her seat. “But first, I need you to sit. This will be a lot to take in all at once.”

“What do you mean, you told her?” Miles asked.

“I told her about us,” Bentley explained. “We talked about telling her the other day, so I figures it would be fine.”

“Well, there’s no backing out now,” Carrie claimed from her spot near the picture window. “She knows and, in the long haul, I think it’s for the best.”

Pulling his notebook for geography out of his backpack, Royce said, “I actually agree.”

Slapping a hand to her friend’s forehead, Vivien smirked as she asked, “Are you sick or something? I could’ve sworn I heard you say you agree with Carrie.”

“Oh, ha ha,” Royce deadpanned as he pried Vivien’s hand from his face. “I just think that Kona was bound to know eventually.”

“True,” Mick said from her perch on the coffee table.

Vivien hummed in agreement as she took the notebook from Royce and pulled the thin slab of black onyx from her pocket, tucking it inside the notebook before handing it back to him. Opening the notebook to the hidden crystal, Royce asked, “What’s that for?”

“It’s black onyx,” Vivien explained. “It’s supposed to draw out negative energy. I figured it might help Serena if we give it to her in a way that she won’t notice it.”

Closing the notebook again and feeling just how flat the book still felt, Royce grinned, “Sneaky.”

“Just one of the many reasons you love me,” Vivien claimed proudly. Before allowing him to respond, she said, “I figured it’s flat enough that she won’t realize it’s there, and if she does, you can always claim it’s a pencil or something.”

“Smart,” Mick mused with a smile as she watched over the young pair.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Vivien taunted, shoving the girl’s knee with a smile. “I think those years of spending every afternoon in the shop with you have paid off.”

“I suppose they have,” Mick chuckled.

Moving away from the window, Carrie pointed toward the outside as she exclaimed, “She’s coming up the driveway!”

“Alright,” Miles said, patting Royce on the back as his younger brother stood. Holding the brunet by his shoulders, he asked, “You know what to do?”

With a nod, Royce began counting on his fingers as he listed, “Act normal, talk about the test, offer to let her in, give her the notebook either way, and once she leaves, we decide what to do next.”

“Good,” Miles said, running a hand over Royce’s chocolate curls before pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Royce muttered.

Squeezing his brother’s shoulders, Miles reassured him, “You’ve got this, RJ. Remember, it’s just Serena; she’s your friend.”

“She’s just possessed, that’s all,” Royce huffed as the doorbell rang.

“Be nice,” Miles reminded him, sending a meaningful glance in Mick’s direction despite the girl not being able to hear their hushed conversation. “Your friend is still in there somewhere.”

Nodding more for Miles’ sake than his own, Royce turned toward the door and sucked in a deep breath as he crossed the gap between himself and the heavy, oaken frame. Forcing a small smile onto his face, Royce let out the breath he’d been holding and tugged the door open, allowing the chilled autumn air to brush calmingly across his face as he found Serena leaning against the column at the edge of the porch. “Hey, Serena.”

“Royce,” the redhead greeted in return, a sort of grin tugging at her lips. “Thanks again for letting me borrow your notes.”

“Yeah, of course, anytime,” Royce replied. Stepping to the side and gesturing to the inside of the house, he asked, “Do you want to come in? It’s kind of cold outside.”

Royce took note of how the girl’s hazel eyes flickered to the old, wooden beams that made up the porch, her gaze minutely trailing the thin line of salt trailing into the coarse artificial grass of the doormat. Although Royce knew the moment only lasted a second or so, time felt slower as Serena’s gaze landed back on him. Forcing his smile to remain plastered across his face, Royce watched as she shook her head with a somewhat distant smile and replied, “I would, but I have babysitting duty.”

If there was one thing Royce remembered about Serena, it was her hatred of babysitting. After years of being made to watch the young kids of her church and being forced to sit at the kid’s table every year, the last thing Serena would ever want was to babysit. He could vaguely recall hearing her have a shouting match with her mother in the school parking lot about having to babysit a kid that wasn’t hers - presumably in reference to her younger half-sibling, Sawyer. If Serena was willingly babysitting Sawyer, something had to be up.

“Oh, well, that’s okay,” Royce brushed off despite his mental notes saying otherwise. Instead, he held the notebook out with a smile and replied, “Maybe next time, then.”

“Yeah, sure,” Serena replied with a quick roll of her eyes that Royce supposed he wasn’t meant to see. However, as Serena latched onto the book and brought it close to her chest, he watched as her eyes flickered rapidly, the color in them gradually shifting from hazel to crimson as they moved from one side to the other faster than Royce could register. Then, all at once, it stopped as Serena’s eyes dissolved back to fear-filled hazel. “Royce?” she questioned breathlessly.

“Serena?” Royce asked slowly in return. “What’s going-”

“How did you make it stop?” Serena interrupted, her eyes wide and glossy with unshed tears of relief. Though Royce had begun to open his mouth in response, Serena quickly shook her head and said, “Actually, nevermind; it’s not important right now.” Reaching out and taking Royce’s arm, she found his eyes and pleaded, “You have to help me. I don’t know what happened, but I’ve been stuck in my own body for weeks now and I can’t get out.”

“What do you remember?” Royce pressed.

“Halloween,” Serena claimed, swiping under her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. “You guys came to the church to look for something and I left, but then I came back and you all were gone, so I cleaned the mess you left and then I-” Serena choked on a breath, shaking her head as she breathed, “the next thing I know, it’s like I’m trapped in my head and nobody hears me screaming for help.”

Taking in as much information as he could from the rambling girl, Royce nodded, “I know Vivien talked to you.”

“It wasn’t much, but I tried,” Serena agreed. “I can’t hold her off for long.”

“Her?”

Serena nodded, releasing Royce’s arm to wipe the streaks of tears from her face as she replied, “The other me. She’s strong and powerful and I know it has something to do with magic.”

“Magic? Like ancient magic?” Royce restated. When Serena shrugged with a hum of confirmation, he asked, “How do we help you out of this?”

“I don’t know,” Serena muttered, her voice shaking with every heave of her shoulders. “You, Vivien, and Bentley were always the ones to know everything about magic, not me. That was never my strong suit. All I know is that she can’t touch salt and-”

As Serena’s words died in her throat, Royce took a step back, watching her eyes begin flickering once more. “And what?” Frustratingly, Serena’s mouth moved despite no sound coming from her lips, and Royce gripped the door frame with wide eyes as her eyes clenched shut, and he heard a dull cracking sound come from the book in her hands. Royce sucked in a breath as he realized the crystal tucked inside the notebook had broken.

Like a rubber band, Serena’s eyes snapped open, and a dark, ruby glare settled within her gaze. Despite both of them knowing she couldn’t do anything to hurt him because of the rings of salt around the house, Royce still felt his fight-or-flight instincts screaming at him to do something to preserve himself, and the people he knew were watching from the window. Serena took a half-step back, the blood-red hue of her eyes diminishing gradually the further she got from the doorway. Tilting her head to the side with an almost demonic smile, Serena let out a dark cackle of laughter before speaking, “Just because you and your little friends defeated me once does not mean I will let it happen again.”

“Says you,” Royce hissed.

“Precisely,” Serena spoke. Stepping down from the porch, Serena’s smile turned eerie as she waved a hand toward the window, sparks of fire flitting from her fingertips. Turning back to Royce, she said, “Watch yourselves, children. Your magic may be cosmic, but mine is ancient. I will take it from you eventually.”

Not wishing to anger the woman further, Royce chose to keep his mouth shut, watching as Serena’s figure turned and stalked off toward the end of the driveway. As she neared the edge, she dug into the notebook, pulled out the broken shards of the onyx slab, and held them up for them to see before holding her fist over the wheeled trash can Bentley hadn’t yet brought back into the garage and crushing the shards in her fist. Dumping the shattered remnants of the crystal into the empty trash can, Serena gave a final, dramatic bow before releasing a cackled laugh, slipping into the driver's seat of her violet-wrapped Audi, and pulling away from the house with a squeal of her tires and a deep growl from the engine.

#Melaka Mystica

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