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Saint
There are four bonfires set up in a circle with wooden chairs spread out around them. Vines and flowers intertwine with each other while candles light a pathway to a small river. I look up to the sky, where fireflies buzz around in circles like little beads of light. Smiling, I bring my mulled wine to my lips and take a long sip. It’s the first time I’ve felt relaxed since waking here. Music spills around the place, as Ivy and Ophelia laugh and dance against each other near the flames.
Veronica drops down beside me with a rolled cigarette in her mouth that smells oddly like a sweetened version of a cigar. It’s weed. I know because of The Kings. “Are you having a good time?” she asks, offering me the long white trunk.
I shake my head, declining her offer. “I am actually.” I inhale the night air deeply and close my eyes, relishing in the heat of the flames caressing my frigid skin. “Can I ask you something?”
Veronica glances up at me from behind her lashes. “You’re going to ask anyway…”
“What do these mean, and why did Brantley force me to wear it once I became public knowledge?” My fingertips graze the diamond on my necklace. It was a question that I’ve wanted to ask since seeing Ophelia’s.
“Ah, so he demanded you wear it but didn’t explain why?”
I look out to the crowd of people dancing, obviously high or drunk or otherwise. The Hunt hasn’t started, but I recognize all of the new men who are already here. No new witches, from what I can tell. They are all young, around my age, maybe younger, and all athletically built. There are five of them. Though they sit in one place, they all watch the girls closely.
“That necklace,” she takes a shot of alcohol and places the empty glass on the grass, “is recognized by anyone who may want to hurt you. Brantley made you wear it because while you wear that very expensive emblem, you, my dear, are entirely untouchable by the magic of your ancestors. Brantley has always been a skeptic, but he wasn’t going to gamble on you.”
My fingers brush over it again. I think I knew deep down that was why Brantley made me wear it, but it doesn’t explain how he came about it.
“So it’s a witch thing?” I ask, allowing the shot of alcohol to slide down my throat before a passing waiter wearing a shiny plastic doll mask stops beside us, offering more drinks and appetizers.
Veronica laughs. “A witch thing, indeed.”
“So he’s always known?” I reach for another shot of vodka before the waiter disappears. “He knew I was a witch all along, because he gave me this necklace when I was a child.”
Veronica exhales, her eyes falling to the now full shot glass in my hand. “Be careful with those drinks. They’re not mortal strength, and that is something you might need to talk with him about.”
Jealousy stirs in my belly and I know I’m being ridiculous, but I get the feeling Brantley has had another girl he has cared about too all along: Veronica. How far does this bond go? Are they sleeping together? Is that why he has photos on his Instagram of her house? Is that why he always sleeps with older women because he wants to see Veronica in them? Veronica doesn’t seem like the type of woman who wants to settle down. Is that why he has never had a girlfriend? Because he can’t have her?
I stand from my chair, just as a siren blares. It sounds all too familiar to the one on The Purge. Chills break out over my skin, and I turn to see where the sound is coming from, desperate to get my mind away from the road it is heading toward. I can’t be jealous. If it’s true and he does have a whatever with Veronica, then what does that make me?
A little sister?
My throat contracts to keep my food down. My mind is dizzy. That drink was a little strong.
“The Hunt is about to commence,” Ophelia calls, standing on a pile of burning embers and branches. “Who will be catching me tonight?” Her body moves around the witch men, her finger grazing their taut bare chests. Abs upon abs, though their faces are hidden behind the same plastic doll-like mask the waiter sports.
Alessi steps forward, stripping out of her dress. “Catch me if you can, bitches…” Then she dashes off into the thick forest with my sister witches following closely behind her.
“Wow!” I gasp, amazed by how quickly they moved through the clearing.
The warlocks all stand still, as if waiting for their call to chase.
Everything feels eerie, as if people are watching me from all angles. Twigs snap beneath the soles of my feet, my vision blurring as I step closer and closer to all five of them. They’re in a half circle, but all standing still. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until I release an exhale, bringing my finger up to the chest of one of them. Abs tight, skin slicked in oil. None of them bear any tattoos, all naked, exposed. My palm comes to his left pec, my eyes closing.
Everyone is quiet. I don’t know why they haven’t run off for my fellow witch sisters, but something in the back of my mind says I don’t care. My eyes open, and I’m staring up at the mask that hovers over me. His eyes. I can’t see them clearly with the light, but I feel them.
I reach up to the edge of his mask, testing to see if he will allow me to touch him.
“Saint… honey, that’s not allowed—” His hand comes up to silence Veronica.
“I—” My fingertips touch the plastic of his mask, peeling it off slowly. Just as I’m about to drop it onto the grass, a loud roar of a motorbike cuts through the clearing, and I turn to look over my shoulder in shock.
“Saint! Get on the fucking bike!” a familiar voice barks while swinging his leg off.
“Brantley?” My eyes pop open, and suddenly whatever I drank earlier isn’t potent enough to keep me drunk. Not in his presence.
He ignores me and goes straight for Veronica. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill all these fuckers right here and right now.”
“Ah.” Veronica looks between Brantley and me before she folds her arms in front of herself. The muscles in her face relax, and a flash of understanding brushes over her features. “Go hunt. You’ve spent enough time being fascinated by our little Hecate.” They must all scurry off because dust kicks up around my feet.
“Our?” Brantley takes another three steps up to Veronica. “V, she is not ours, she is mine. What the fuck is this shit? You sending her out on a fucking hunt?”
My mouth opens and closes. I want to say something. Anything to help Veronica, but I can’t get the words out.
“Actually, no, she wasn’t. She was observing, and Brantley, I didn’t realize it was like that for you and her.”
He spins to glare at me, pointing toward the idling dirt bike. “Get on the fucking bike!”
“I don’t know how!” I make my way toward the both of them. Maybe if I stand in front of Veronica, he won’t tear her head off.
“I trusted you…” Brantley’s eyes narrow.
“And you can trust me, Brantley. She wasn’t going out on The Hunt, even if I didn’t know about the two of you. She simply—” Veronica’s eyes flick to me, “is too good.”
Once I’m standing between them, my hand is on Brantley’s chest. He’s wearing a thick dark hoodie, but I swear I can feel his heartbeat beneath the palm of my hand. My cheeks flush. “Brantley, you’re being unreasonable.”
He pauses and slowly cocks his head down to look at me. Actually not look. To study me. “Oh yeah?” His hand wraps around my wrist, yanking me farther into his chest. “How fucking so?”