Chapter 19 - Girl Fight

Goldie smiled at Lucas, her last client of the day. Thank goodness for that. I am so overdone I feel like beef jerky. Goldie adored her job, but the almost-two days since she had spewed her secrets all over Flint had been some of the most anxious of her life. She still hadn’t decided what to do. She was indecisive by nature, so that didn’t surprise her, but it did distress her. Make a decision, she scolded herself, then she scolded herself again. Not the time for any of it, Goldie. Pay attention to your client.

It was hard to think of the eight-year-old with the giant brown eyes and perpetually mussed golden brown hair as a client, but that’s who he was. It was Wednesday, the end of her third day as a county school system speech therapist, and Goldie and Lucas had just finished playing with the little plastic Minecraft figures she had brought along. The exercise had been a huge success in Goldie’s book. Lucas’s eyes had lit up - he’d even laughed! - while he moved the figures around and made animal noises for the sheep and pigs, a hiss and explosion for the monster called a Creeper.

Lucas was a sweet boy with struggles too big for a second grader. Goldie’s supervisor said he’s been in speech therapy for a stutter for over a year, ever since his mother disappeared without a trace, another suspected victim of the tri-state kidnapper. If that hadn’t been bad enough, Lucas was also the younger sibling of Brittany, the waitress from the Bear Claw who’d been reported missing. The sad little boy had captured Goldie’s heart on sight and she wanted to do anything she could to help him, even just give him a mothering touch. He rarely spoke, and when he did, it was hard for him.

She smiled again at Lucas as he placed each figure carefully in their labeled box. “You really liked those guys, huh? You ever play the video game?”

Lucas nodded, a grin on his face, and accepted a bag of fruit snacks Goldie offered. She put the box of figures in her bag, averting her eyes so that Lucas wouldn’t have to look directly at her as she gave him a little push. “Maybe next time we meet you could tell me the coolest build you’ve ever seen.” By the time she looked back he was smiling shyly and giving a little nod as he got up to leave. Goldie waved goodbye, waiting until the door was closed to let her toes tap with joy. Yes! She’d made a connection!

Goldie headed to the front office to meet the therapist who’d offered to give her a ride home, only to find the receptionist looking at Goldie with a playful gleam in her eye. “A dangerous-looking man just dropped this off for you.”

Dangerous? Flint. Had to be. Unless… A shiver of apprehension moved through her. Had Darby’s stalker found her? Were they going to have to get new names just to be able to get jobs?

She could feel a weight inside the envelope and opened it to find her car key and a note: Good as new. No charge. -Riot

Yes! Goldie laughed out loud and ran outside to find Pascal, her green hatchback she’d named after the chameleon in Tangled.

Goldie drove home, feeling giddy at having her own car back. And no charge! She would have to thank Riot.

She walked inside their new place, thinking she would ask Darby what kind of a thank-you gift he might like, glad she would have a bit of money to get him something. They were doing better. Darby was bringing home tip money, now they didn’t have to pay for the repairs. She stopped short. Could they leave? But no, she’d lost that job they’d been heading for when she hadn’t shown up for her first day. And she liked her job here. Darby seemed happy. Flint, a voice said in her head, but she ignored it.

Darby wasn’t home, so Goldie headed for the kitchen. Maybe they had wine? Someone knocked on the front door and a thrill of fear shot through her. She stopped walking, stood perfectly still. She wouldn’t answer it. It could be Flint, who she both wanted to see, and didn’t want to see, for so many reasons, some vampire-related, some not.

Another knock. “Goldie? It’s Cora. I know you’re in there. I don’t know how I know, but I do. And I have to tell you, Goldie, I’m just enough of a bitch to sit out here and sing off-key for as long as it takes-”

Cora. Oh no, had Flint told her about Darby already?

A second female cut Cora off with a groan. “Oh, for Chrissakes, not again.” Goldie didn’t know that voice. It was confident, clipped, sardonic.

But Cora wasn’t finished, her threats ringing through the wood, the smile in her voice obvious. “-until you can’t stand it anymore. So why don’t you do us all a favor and open the door?”

Goldie ran to the door and opened it. Cora was there, ready to launch into song, and behind her stood one of the most striking women Goldie had ever seen. She had tan skin, an exotic face, platinum blonde hair and eyebrows, and a ripped body, like Ronda Rousey. She wore black canvas pants with a black tank top, and had her face screwed up tight and her fingers in her ears, braced for Cora’s singing.

Cora laughed, making Goldie laugh. The blonde woman opened one eye and saw them laughing, took her fingers out of her ears, and shoved Cora. “I have sensitive ears.”

Cora snorted and told Goldie, “Miss Sensitive here is Shiloh. She’s-” Cora dropped her voice to a whisper and did air quotes. “One of us.”

Huh. A switch? No way. Goldie would have felt it. She didn’t know how she knew that, but she did.

Cora made a face, like she knew exactly what Goldie was thinking. “Not a switch. She’s a shifter.” She made a claw and scratched the air. “Rowr kitty. Big rowr kitty.”

Okay. Big rowr kitty. Goldie wanted to see what exactly that was. She invited the two women in.

In the kitchen, Cora grabbed a glass on the counter and slammed it down. “Carick says you made the bubble again. You have to teach me.”

Goldie hated to disappoint her, but what could she do but tell the truth… at least about this? “I don’t even know how I did that. I was just running, chasing that guy,” she couldn’t even bear to call him a vampire, “and then Flint yelled my name and I looked up and saw the car. It came so close I could feel the air pushing off it. The air is what did it really, I just… I think I directed it.”

Goldie formed her hands into a ball in front of her, moving them apart rapidly. “It was like a transparent green airbag went off or something. Threw me backwards.”

Cora was staring at her with such focus, Goldie almost had the impression the other woman understood what she was talking about. Then Cora’s hazel eyes narrowed. “Okay, the air. That makes sense, because Carick says that Breath magicks move through the currents of the earth’s breath. Which is just his fancy way of saying wind. I asked. It went well.”

Goldie wanted to tell Cora to stop talking about it, but she was also fascinated. Ooooohhh, if the wind powers my magic, then maybe that’s why during Katrina… Goldie let the thought trail off, not sure if it made her feel better or worse about her role in that night. She said nothing.

Cora nodded. “Makes sense, right? I mean, a crazy kind of sense, if you think about it. He’s told me some of the stuff Breath Coven switches are known for. We talk a lot, we like words, we run fast. He says we’re all built like you and me; you know, petite. Says the first time he saw me, he knew what coven I belonged to because of the way I look.” Cora fixed Goldie with a stare that had her holding her breath. “And he says there are always three switches in every coven. One of them is strong at physical stuff, which I think is me, one is super-smart, and one is crazy magical and that’s you and that’s why you can do it without knowing you’re doing it and you have to teach me, please! It could save my life.”

Goldie couldn’t say no to that. “Let’s go out back.”

They left the kitchen through the back door and stood on the small raised deck. Cora surveyed the whole backyard. “I remember the first time I saw this place. Got the shit scared out of me.”

Goldie looked around at the pleasant garden with its small scenes demarcated by walls of hedges and vines, a couple of benches and boulders as focal points, collections of decorative fairy figures scattered around. She chuckled as she looked at Cora. “What, the fairies? I like them, they remind me of Tinkerbell. Not exactly what I expected after meeting Jameson, but it’s not as creepy as garden gnomes.”

The other two women laughed, but Cora’s expression quickly turned kind and she sought to meet Goldie’s eye. “This is where I found out about the Prowl. Has anyone told you yet?”

Goldie felt a blush steal over her cheeks. “You mean the vampire hunting part? The stabbing? I’m not very good at it.”

Cora shook her head slowly. “Not the stabbing. After. The Prowl. Fate really wanted to make sure we killed vampires, and according to Carick there’s some evolutionary stuff going on there too, so, for some reason, we all go off our fucking rocker when there’s a vampire around, and then once we kill one, well, then we’re worse than the vampire. So, that’s where the big badass animals come in. They keep us safe, and they keep everyone else safe from us.”

Cora took a breath. “There’s no way to say it but to say it, and, well,” She looked at Shiloh. “Let’s just say you’re Prowling with Shiloh around, she’s probably going to make you run it off, or maybe fight you, go a few rounds if you won’t calm down. But if you are Prowling with, um, I don’t know, Flint, then there’s other options.”

Goldie swallowed hard. Other options. Yeah, she remembered them. Her stomach turned over as Flint’s image rose in her mind.

Dangit. She raised her hands. “Okay, yeah, so this is what I did, I put my hands up and-”

Both Cora and Shiloh laughed and Goldie flushed.

“Lemme see it,” Cora said, abandoning the topic and mirroring Goldie’s stance.

Goldie tried to explain, tried to do what she had done. Cora tried to mimic her, but nothing happened to either of them.

Cora bounced away. “Let me try something.” She leapt from the deck to a patch of lawn, then banked off a boulder and pushed herself into a twisting sort of flip before running some more. Goldie watched, stunned, for two whole minutes as Cora bounced around the garden doing acrobatic maneuvers at lightning speed, never putting a foot wrong, never stumbling or overcorrecting. Definitely the physical switch. If it had been her out there, Goldie would have died three times already.

Finally Cora vaulted back onto the patio and stood looking over the garden, frowning, barely even winded from her exertions. “Well, that didn’t work. I was thinking of the air the whole time but I never got that push. Maybe it only works if you’re in danger.”

Shiloh took two steps forward and shoved Cora off the patio. Cora yelled and tumbled down towards a bed of daylilies, getting her arms underneath her just in time to push into a handspring. Once she was back on her feet and brushing dirt off her hands, Cora turned to Shiloh and hollered at her. “What the hell, Shi?”

Shiloh shrugged, a tiny smirk on her otherwise unimpressed face. “I was helping.”

Cora scoffed. “Helping?”

At that Shiloh broke into a full-on smile, showing unexpected dimples and perfect teeth. “I put you in danger of breaking your ass, and still no air mattress. Next idea?”

Shaking her head in surrender, Cora laughed and trouped back up the stairs to the raised patio. “Okay, smartass, what do you think we should try?”

Shiloh turned to Goldie with a questioning look. “You got a fan?”

Goldie considered. “I think I saw one in the hallway closet.” She started toward the house, but Shiloh waved her off and headed in.

As soon as they were alone, Cora got curious. “So you and Flint, you’re not-?” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively and Goldie laughed. “Because I could have sworn when he brought you by the other night that you two had some serious chemistry going on.”

Goldie shook her head, not sure what to say. Cora wasn’t wrong, but that wasn’t nearly the point. “This is all just so crazy, you know?”

Cora nodded along vigorously. “One hundred percent. I get you. It’s just that it’s also undeniable, so you might as well get ready. Fighting it won’t get you anywhere. And Flint’s a good guy. He’d take care of you if you needed him to.”

Shiloh came out with a box fan, saving Goldie from having to ask just what kind of “care” Cora was referring to. She didn’t like the way everyone kept assuming her involvement in this Cause was a done deal. But she had to admit she was curious to see what she could learn about the mysterious powers she had and how to control them.

Shiloh plugged the fan into an outlet just outside the back door and placed it on a small table. She waved Goldie over to stand in front of it and turned the knob to power it on. “Now you’ve got air to work with. See what you can do.”

Nervous, Goldie stood there for a moment without moving. But what did she have to lose by trying? She brought her hands up in front of her, feeling the air from the fan pressing against them, and closed her eyes. A picture formed in her head, of the man with the jet black hair with a single stripe of white, his fashionable clothes tailored to his lean shoulders. She felt the hatred stir up inside her, the desire to sink a weapon deep into his putrid flesh.

The air between her hands seemed to throb. She heard Shiloh’s voice to her side, urgent and encouraging. “You’re doing it, Goldie.”

But Goldie would not open her eyes, would not break her focus. She felt the sparking, pulsing energy and moved her hands apart to better accommodate it, to let it grow in power and size yet keep it contained. Once she felt it as big as a watermelon, Goldie started to wonder what she could do with it. Maybe she could tip the fan? She directed her energy to the bundle between her palms and sent it forward with a little push. A second later she was flying backwards and landing in the daylilies.

Shiloh and Cora rushed down the stairs to help her, one woman pulling her to her feet as the other brushed the dirt off her back. Cora was laughing nervously. “First thing we’re getting you is a helmet. Who knows how long it will be before we find another switch, I’m not killing the only other one we’ve got who can fight.”

Goldie blinked. No, Flint had definitely not told her about Darby. Maybe he wouldn’t? Then she realized what Cora had said. “Are there some who can’t?”

Cora shrugged, an almost sad expression on her face. “Just the one: Auntie. She’s super-old. We’re not even sure she knows she’s a switch.”

Not about to be deterred from their agenda, Shiloh grinned and socked Goldie on the arm. “That. Was. Awesome.”

Goldie brushed the dirt off her butt. “It didn’t feel awesome.” But maybe it had, a little.

Cora grinned at them both. “My turn. Show me how, sis.”

They worked on it for hours, the three of them, until the sky started to color with evening sun, until both Cora and Goldie could make a ball of what Cora called Breath magicks, not only with the fan, but with their breath, blowing into the space between their hands. Goldie had even progressed to throwing hers; the fairy statues scattered around the backyard were all on their backs. She caught Shiloh off-guard once and knocked her legs out from under her. The pale-haired woman came up glaring daggers. “What the fuck, blondie?”

Goldie shrugged her shoulders and smiled, surprised at her own boldness. Getting her back a little bit, plus she felt like the walking definition of empowered and it was making her a little drunk. “You were the only one who hadn’t landed on her backside yet. Just trying to even things up.”

Shiloh shook her head with a smile, looking grudgingly impressed. “Yeah, ‘kay, just remember who watches your back when the guys with the pointy fangs show up.”

Cora bounced toward the house. “Thanks Goldie, but we gotta go. I want to show my man, I mean my wolf, what I can do.”

Shiloh followed. “When we get home I’ll throw you off the cliff. Jameson will be so impressed when you don’t go splat.”

Cora tossed back her head and laughed. “No way, kitty cat. I’m going to use it to knock his ass onto the bed when he gets bossy.”

Out the door they went, leaving Goldie to slump against the wall and try to figure out who she was now.