The Bridge (18 page)

“I wanted to help!”

“You could have been killed,” Mr. Pendley said. “An investigation zone is never completely safe.” He removed a hand-sized tape recorder from the inside of his blazer. “Your grandfather is going to tend to the shop. While he’s doing that, you will tell me everything from start to end, including your thoughts.”

“Of course.” Resisting wouldn’t help anybody. His grandfather was staring at his lap, face scrunched in crushing disappointment. “Grandpa? I’m sorry I did this.”

His grandfather wouldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Grandpa, I was careful. I didn’t leave any marks until—until the woman came, but Buzz took care of her. Buzz has my back.”

“You’ve put much more at stake.” His grandfather’s voice cracked, and Everett wished he could go back in time to reverse the damage. “After I told you to be careful. After I moved us. I did everything I could to keep you safe. Don’t you appreciate that?” His grandfather quietly put his tea on the coffee table and left. The apartment’s front door shut with finality.

Everett would rather have his grandfather scream and smash his teacup against the wall. He hated the silence. And he hated how Mr. Pendley shook his head as though everything was Everett’s fault.

Mr. Pendley pocketed the recorder. “Everett, I’m not going to record you, but I need you to tell me what you did.”

Everett wanted to shove Mr. Pendley out and go to sleep. His grandfather wouldn’t appreciate it, so he did as Mr. Pendley asked. “I unlocked the front door with a spell. Buzz checked the house before I went in. I wore gloves, shoe covers, and a hairnet. I looked for residue in all the rooms—for both humans and paranormal beings—and I was in the dining room when the woman came in. I didn’t see her, but she attacked me with a spell and knocked me over. Buzz held her off so I could escape through the back door. After that, Buzz put a block on blood-tracking spells. I was going to create a traditional spell brew to hold off the tracking, but there’s no point now.”

Everett’s back flared with a distant ache. He tugged on the back of his shirt to separate the fabric from the scratches.

“You should continue your plans to cast those spells. Whoever broke into the house might be working on your defense as we speak. What spell is this?”

“Tag Block III. Buzz got the natural ingredients and I’m going to get the rest tomorrow.”

Mr. Pendley lifted his chin in a half nod. “Get to work on that as soon as you can. It’s important you secure what you can of your safety.”

Everett nodded firmly. “I’ll do everything I can. I feel terrible for the strain I’ve put on my grandfather—and the Order. Mr. Pendley, what’s your connection to the Order? I never picked up what your relation is.”

“I am a simple messenger.” Mr. Pendley made the first friendly smile Everett had seen. “I have a son about your age, and he would have done the same.”

“Is he a witch?”

Mr. Pendley’s facial muscles twitched, making his smile waver. “He is not.”

“But you are?”

“I haven’t cast a spell in years.” Mr. Pendley’s smile remained wary. It watered the suspicion blooming in Everett’s chest.

“Is your wife a witch too?”

“She was.” Mr. Pendley cleared his throat and looked at the muted TV screen. A news reporter was interviewing the resident of a burglarized apartment in Ashville.

“If you and Mrs. Pendley were witches, how is your son not a witch?”

“Two witches don’t automatically produce a witch child. It is rare, but sometimes the child develops into something else—human or monster.” Mr. Pendley checked his wristwatch. His eyes were faraway, and they stared through the watch. “Thank you for the information. I’ll pass it along to the investigation team. It may create new leads.”

Everett locked the back door behind Mr. Pendley, then he tiptoed downstairs where his grandfather was restocking the bestsellers shelf.

The shop’s lights were on the dimmest setting, and the curtains were drawn over the windows and front doors. It was like a house with hundreds of new books, a cash register, and security cameras. The reading room would have been inviting for a late read if Everett wasn’t choking on unshed tears.

His grandfather could see Everett from the direction he faced, but he didn’t look at Everett. His eyes stayed on the books he shelved and the gaps he had left to fill.

“Grandpa,” Everett said softly.

His call got no response.

“Grandpa,” he said louder.

“Did you walk Mr. Pendley to his car?” his grandfather asked.

“I did.” Everett swallowed what felt like a glob of hot glue. He spun a rotational shelf. The rhythmic spinning was calming.

“Grandpa, I—” The words died on his tongue.

His grandfather shelved the books like a ghost that repeated an action over and over, stuck in their past life. Maybe his grandfather wanted that. A simple life where he didn’t gain any more wrinkles from his reckless grandson.

The door rattled, and Everett knew it was Buzz throwing his body against it. Buzz’s presence was a soft cushion in Everett’s mind, comforting and welcomed.

Everett’s grandfather moved on to the last box of books.

“I’ll let him in.” Everett turned off the alarm system, and when he opened the door, Buzz careened into his chest.

Buzz purred and stuck to Everett’s chest like an octopus, with his tentacles spread in a starburst.

“Where have you been?” Everett said.

His question was rhetorical, so it was completely unexpected when a genderless voice floated through his head.

“With my buddies.”

Everett’s grandfather continued to shelve, but whether he heard Buzz or not was uncertain.

“Grandpa? Did you hear that?”

“Did Buzz speak to you?” His grandfather’s words would have been emotionless if it wasn’t for the slight increase in pitch.

“His voice…. He spoke, and it echoed in my head. No, it didn’t echo. It was like he was speaking in my head through a headpiece, but the quality was as if he was verbally speaking.”

“You can hear me now? I’ve been trying to communicate with words since I met you, but our bond wasn’t developed enough.”

Buzz’s voice cut off in the middle of some words as if they were speaking through a choppy phone connection.

“Some of your voice is getting filtered,” Everett said.

It might take a while until it’s perfect, but you can respond with your though—

Buzz’s voice cut off.

“Your signal got cut off,” Everett said.

“It will take time for the bond to solidify. Until then, enjoy the communication you already have.” Everett’s grandfather finished the box and kicked it at the back door. “Put this outside, please.”

When Everett came back inside, his grandfather was locking the doors and turning on the alarm.

“Grandpa—”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. No more foolishness or I will report you to the Order.”

Everett’s mind emptied of all coherent thought.

“Understood?” his grandfather said, his voice leaving no room for disagreeing.

Everett swallowed drily. “Understood.”

BRYCE TEXTED,
Are you asleep?

Dressed in his pajamas, Everett fluffed his pillow against the wall and used it as a backrest. He had been heading to bed, but before he kicked his feet under his blankets, his phone lit the room with a notification.

I’m awake.

Can I call you?

Everett closed his door.

I’ll call you. My grandfather is sleeping, and I don’t want my ringtone to wake him.

Buzz was at Stanley Hugh Park with his “buddies” scoping out the woods. Buzz’s friends were fellow spirits, one of whom was uncertain if she was feeling a pull to become the familiar of a witch still forming in her mother’s womb. Buzz had informed Everett that familiars didn’t choose their witches; an unknown force drew spirits along to their respective partners. Sometimes familiars were drawn to their witches before birth, and sometimes they were drawn to their witches decades later. Timing seemed to be random. When Everett had asked Buzz about their timing, Buzz said it was relatively recent and went off to the park.

Everett tucked his hair behind his ears and pulled his bangs back with a headband. He moistened his mouth, swallowed the saliva, and called.

“Hey,” Bryce exhaled.

“I don’t want to talk too loud. The walls are thin.”

Bryce chuckled. For several seconds he only breathed. “I want to ask you something, and I want an honest answer.”

“I try to always give an honest answer. What’s your question?”

“Would you like to upgrade yesterday’s hanging out to an official first date?”

Everett’s stomach dropped a thousand feet. He was on a roller coaster now. His emotions soared up and down, racing from excitement to anxiety, but always happy. He pressed his knuckles to his mouth.

“A literal first date. Or we could schedule another hanging out and make that the first date. The official first date.” Bryce cleared his throat and um’d and er’d. “I’m not reading into things, right?”

“What?” Everett laughed.

Good thing Buzz wasn’t here to see Everett freak out. In a short-lived afterthought, Everett imagined it would have been amusing to see Buzz’s reaction.

Everett pinched his arm. This was real. Unbelievably real.

“I was thinking we could go on a date and see what happens afterward. Unless you think differently. It’s cool if you do. I’m just wondering.”

Everett sputtered a laugh.

“Is that a no?” Bryce’s voice faded.

Everett could sense the line about to disconnect.

“No, I—”

The call ended.

How about after tomorrow? Or we could go tomorrow after the lesson, though we’d be covered in sweat.

Everett had never texted so fast. Autocorrect had to step in for most of the words. His thumbs kept striking the wrong letters.

This isn’t a pity date??

No! You just surprised me. I didn’t mean to laugh.

REALLY? You’d REALLY go out with me???!!!

Everett called Bryce again. He couldn’t control his thumbs when he opened his contact list and almost couldn’t select Bryce’s name from his favorites list of two contacts.

“Will you really go out with me?” Bryce said, a little breathless.

“Yes!”

“That’s great. I—oh wow. This isn’t too fast or anything, right?”

“I’ve never done anything related to dating so I’m not the person to ask.” Everett curled his hair around his finger until he was at his scalp. He could tear it out and the pain wouldn’t register.

“I’m in shock. You said ‘yes’ and you sound happy about it.”

“Why wouldn’t I? Anyone would be happy to go out with you.” Everett fretted over that cheesy line for less than a second.

Romance hadn’t been on his mind until he met Bryce, and that was because few had seen him in a different light than friendship. Throughout high school, he had seen the blushing looks of a few girls—never boys—and nobody he had been interested in paid him any special attention, except Sunny, who he felt no romantic chemistry with. And here was Bryce, a handsome, kind boy with a talent in martial arts. Bryce, who Everett didn’t know the full name of, who treated Everett like a friend, who
liked
Everett.

Liquid sunshine spread through Everett’s veins. He basked in a glow he couldn’t see. But he could feel its complete effects. He floated in his little air balloon of confidence, soaring high above clouds he had never thought he’d pass.

“You still there?” Bryce asked, his voice as sunny as a smile.

Could Bryce hear Everett’s smile? “What’s your last name? I still don’t know.”

“I never told you? And you never looked at my belt? My full name’s embroidered on that.”

“I was always distracted.”

“By my stunningly good looks?” Bryce boasted.

In addition to Bryce’s gray skin and automatic aura defenses. “Maybe.”

“Well, my last name is Pendley. P-e-n-d-l-e-y. I don’t do social media, so you won’t find me on anything.”

“Bryce. Bryce Pendley,” Everett whispered. He held his phone in front of his face, close enough to hear the soft buzz of Bryce’s voice.

“Yup, that’s my name. Now you can update my contact info on your phone.”

EVERETT COULDN’T
look at Bryce in the same way during their next training session. He could see Mr. Pendley’s softened features in Bryce’s face. They had the same intensity in their eyes, restrained like a coiled snake. In the right situation, the snake would uncoil and pounce, but the situation was unknown—for now. What would it take to bring the so-called beast out?

If Everett had the energy, he would have stripped Bryce’s aura to its bone. He had Bryce’s aura exposed with minimal energy, thanks to a traditional spell he had cast on himself by drinking a glassful of blended grass and other greenery that Buzz had collected. The spell increased his endurance, but it needed touch-ups every hour.

Bryce’s emotional potential was large, large enough to show in his aura. His aura was alive, curling and uncurling, waiting for something to come within reach for it to grab.

“You’d be good in form competitions.” Bryce circled Everett’s stance. “No mistakes that I can see. Next?”

Everett hooked his foot behind his knee and held his arms above his head. He held the pose, the chamber for a double-block acting as his center of balance.

“How do you keep your balance like that? You’re not even breaking a sweat.”

“What’s so surprising about this? Can’t you keep your balance?”

Bryce’s aura flared like a peacock’s feathers.

“I have a third-degree black belt. I’m required to have excellent balance.” Bryce stood in front of Everett and struck the same pose with a snap of his joints. He didn’t waver for a second.

In five minutes the aura spell would end. The class would end a few minutes afterward.

Over the last fifty minutes, Everett had observed the behavior of Bryce’s aura. It was more active than any aura Everett had seen. Its consistency had gone from as smooth as smoke to as stiff as cardboard. The aura’s consistency didn’t always match Bryce’s actions. Sometimes he laughed and his aura stiffened to a plethora of spikes.