Chapter 4

Even straight out of bed with her hair all messed up, Laurel still looked like a supermodel, Hunter thought. She was clearly a gigantic slut - it was obvious that she was putting out at the drop of a hat on all of her “dates”. For a time back in high school when Alison was teaching her magic, Laurel had been genuinely sex-crazed. Now this new spell she had invented had something to do with sperm, and it seemed like she had turned nympho again. Whatever - it wasn’t his job to protect his little sister’s chastity. He wished she wouldn’t drag Imogen into whatever the hell she was doing though.

James had called for the kids to wake up - he was making pancakes. Laurel joined Hunter at the table. Imogen stood in the open back door. “God it’s a beautiful day today. Let’s do something outside!”

“Go to the park? Throw the ball around?” Hunter suggested.

Imogen smiled. “Brilliant. James? Laurel? Will you be joining us?”

“I’m in,” James said, placing a plate of pancakes on the table.

“I can’t - I’ve got a big meeting online today,” Laurel said. She frowned. “Obfuscation strategies for the paper.” She sighed and looked at James. “Is this what work is like? You start off having fun creating something new, but in the end, it turns into endless meetings and emails and reviews?”

“Sadly, yes - oftentimes it is,” James said. “But when you look back on it, you remember how much fun the creative part was. And once people start using what you’ve given them, it’ll feel great. Hang in there, sweetheart.”

Good, Hunter thought. Showing Imogen a fun time without Laurel around was definitely a win.

“Don’t forget,” James said to everyone, “Teppanyaki tonight to celebrate Laurel’s birthday.”

Laurel and Imogen returned to the mall for some follow-up shopping.

“So tell me about this paper you’re writing,” Imogen asked as they set their trays down on a food court table.

“Well,” Laurel said, not sure exactly what to say, “I invented a new spell, and that’s really pretty rare. Although I guess I’ve got a knack for it because I’ve invented a couple others, too. But this one is a really big deal. There was all kinds of drama with one of the covens trying to strong-arm me into giving it exclusively to them. But it’s too powerful for that. We decided the best way to keep people from abusing it was to give it to everyone.”

Laurel was talking on autopilot. Her clover tattoo itched again, more intensely than last time. Someone wanted to hurt her. She scanned the crowd looking for any signs of who it might be. When she met their eyes she knew she had found them: a man and woman - both in their thirties - glaring hatefully at her. She completely spaced out on whatever Imogen was saying.

“Watch my stuff while I go to the bathroom, okay?”

Inside the bathroom, Laurel quickly plugged the drain of one sink with a wad of paper towels and opened the faucet to fill it. After making a few magical preparations for her contingency spell, she looked around and tried to come up with a plan, but no new ideas came to her.

The other magicians entered the bathroom. The man locked the door while the woman drew a double-edged knife from her purse. It was enchanted somehow, but Laurel couldn’t guess the details.

“You can’t kill me in here!” Laurel blurted. “You’ll never get away with it. Too many people saw you come in. Security cameras, forensics.”

“Now why would we want to kill you?” The woman spat.

“There’s a truce!” Laurel argued. “Blood was spilled on both sides and I’m sorry for that, but the coven leadership agreed it’s over!”

The woman snorted. “My brother - his husband - lost most of his higher brain function when your pet demon shoved an ice pick in his head. But sure - let’s let bygones be bygones!”

Water began to overflow the sink and spread across the floor.

“You’re right though,” the man said. He reached into a pocket inside his jacket and produced a syringe, and then removed the cap protecting the needle. “We can’t kill you here. That’s what this is for.”

“Please don’t do this! I’m begging you!” Laurel said, retreating into a corner.

The woman waved the knife menacingly. “Isn’t that cute? The girl who sent a demon assassin after us is begging for her life.”

Laurel shook her head, on the verge of tears. “I’m not begging for my life! I don’t want to hurt you!”

The woman laughed. The man advanced, syringe at the ready. Laurel extended her arm toward the sink and released the moonlight stored in her skin into the water. She spoke a few words to complete the spell, and then both of her attackers fell to the ground. They struggled to stand, to orient themselves, but powerful erratic forces were pushing on them, toppling and confusing them, and sapping their will to fight.

Laurel took the weapons from her helpless enemies. She emptied the syringe into an unclogged sink and then threw it in the trash.

She looked at the knife in her hand, and then she began to pace. She couldn’t let them live - she was sure that would have been Jennifer’s counsel. If she let them live they’d keep coming and coming. She had to end it. But what if she was wrong? What if it was a misunderstanding? She pulled at her hair, her lip quivering. These were human beings - she couldn’t just kill someone.

It was a moot point, she realized: she couldn’t get away with a murder in a mall bathroom any more than they could. She didn’t have to face that awful decision - circumstances made it for her.

Her attackers writhed on the ground, no longer even attempting to rise to their hands and knees. She had to at least punish them, she thought. She had to make them afraid to ever cross her again. She kicked the man in the ribs, but she hurt her toe worse than she hurt him. Maybe she needed a weapon - a trash can lid or a toilet tank lid. Nothing nearby looked suitable for bludgeoning.

She still had the knife. She could hurt them. They wouldn’t be going to the police. She could cut off their ears or stab their eyes. She screamed to herself. She bit her hand in frustration. It was all too gruesome. She had to do something, but she couldn’t bring herself to do any of it. She was too weak to make use of the advantage she had created.