The Bridge (22 page)

“That’s what I call
A+
lying,”
Buzz said.

Aura blocks didn’t require a lot of energy to set up, and they required no conscious energy to stay in place, but Jake didn’t seem to know that.

“You must rely on traditional spells a lot, then.” Jake opened his door.

“Where are you? I can’t sense your presence,”
Everett said.

“I’m hiding in the bushes. I concealed myself because I don’t want Jake to see me. He’ll think you’re a wimp if he sees that your familiar is a jellyfish. He’ll also suspect that you aren’t a regular witch; familiars are only for
special
witches.”

“I’m working on my endurance, so I try not to resort to brews.” Everett took his keys out of his bag and backed up to his car. “Let me know when you find a Bridge Master.”

“I’ll text you.”

After Jake left, Buzz came out of the bushes, floated through Everett’s window, and sat on the dashboard.

“Does my voice break when I talk to you?”
Buzz asked.

“Sometimes it filters, but I can piece together what you say.”

“Yay!”
Buzz put his tentacles in the air and waved them.

“You’re so cute.” Everett rubbed Buzz’s cap with a finger.

“You know who else is cute? Bryce.”

Everett’s pulse increased. Buzz laughed. “Shut up. Where was he anyway?”

“The dojang. He taught a few other classes, and took his shirt off to show his abs to this girl who wanted to see them. You’ve got competition.”

Everett gave Buzz a black look. “You’re pulling my leg.”

“She was a middle-school kid who ‘didn’t believe Bryce had a rockin’ body,’ which he does. But that’s not the key point. Bryce is having trouble hiding his paranormal nature. These random splotches of gray show on his hands and when he notices them, he gets frustrated.”

“Has he shown paranormal habits?”

“He tasted the air by sticking his tongue out. The kids laughed at him and he played it like a joke, but he was disappointed, and I think Ann knows Bryce isn’t human. She looked at Bryce like she
knew
Bryce’s problem. And Bryce looked at her like he was disappointed in himself, and he knew she’d be disappointed in him. What if Ann was mentoring him?”

Everett rubbed his eyes. So much had happened today, and he didn’t want to think of it all at once.

“There’s an even bigger kicker. I got seen.”

Everett swore. Everything happened like an avalanche. “Someone saw you? Who? How? Aren’t you difficult to see?”

“Bryce saw me. Before I left, he looked right at me. He looked shocked, and he rubbed his eyes like he couldn’t believe it. I hid in an equipment bag and left when the owner took it outside.”

If Bryce could see through Buzz’s guise, were his powers strengthening?

“Is he still growing into his paranormal nature?”

“That’s what I was thinking. He’s going through a paranormal growth spurt, and it’s strengthening his powers. He might see right through my disguises now, depending on how strong he is.”

“Can the other hybrids see you? Sunny, Jake, and Lena?”

“I don’t know, but if they can, I’m either extremely weak, or they’re extremely strong. I think it’s the latter, though the former would be more helpful.”

EVERETT DELETED
and typed the text three times, wording it differently every time. He couldn’t settle on a tone. Impatience rolled through his gut, and he sent the newest version:
Jake, come to the book shop today. I know someone who can open the bridge.

Regardless of tone, it got the message across.

His grandfather was blasting his way through a line of young teens who wore T-shirts with the logo of a magic card tournament. Days like this made Everett wonder why his grandfather didn’t purchase another register.

The teens in line spoke vivaciously about the matches they had participated in, saying the complicated names of cards with the ease of familiarity. Everett counted ten of them in line and over twenty perusing the shelves. More were coming in. The shop was stuffy with body heat. The air tasted sticky because of the teens’ body odor.

Everett went to his grandfather and grabbed the jar of salt in the desk that had replaced the salt packets. The packaging had been a waste of money and the jar was more consistent. The two teens at the front of the line were talking about a match one of them had won. They watched Everett reach behind the desk, their eyes sharp like a raven’s.

Everett looked at them blankly and held the jar to his chest, covering the glass jar with his hands and shielding it from their sight.

“Salt,” the taller one of the teens said.

Everett peeked down at the jar. He looked at the teens.

The one who was paying handed Everett’s grandfather a twenty-dollar bill. Her eyes didn’t leave Everett for a second.

Everett walked away and heard whispers of witchcraft behind him. Of course a paranormal bookshop would have witches for shopkeepers. Everett rolled his eyes and tripped on the first step to the apartment. He spun and landed with his bottom on the step, arms protecting the jar against his chest.

Several teens by the staircase were watching him.

“Witchcraft,” one of them whispered.

They were just obsessive card players. Not witches or paranormal creatures.

Everett went up the stairs until the teens couldn’t see him. He shoved his fist in the jar, working it between the salt.

“Dull the body odor.”

He closed the jar and put it back in the desk. The air was more bearable to breathe, but it seemed to make the teenagers by the staircase sleepy.

“Everett!” Mrs. Lars came in the shop with her dogs. “Jake told me you hung out with him last night.”

The dogs stared down the teens near them. Their bodies vibrated with deep growls, their jaws trembling and exposing the tips of fangs. The teens backed away.

“Good morning, Mrs. Lars,” Everett’s grandfather said. He counted out change for the current teens at the front of the line. He had worked efficiently and now there were only four customers left in line.

She leaned against the desk, her bottom sticking out to the pleasure of the boys behind her. “I see the shop’s doing well. Lots of…. Wizard Magic Hand fans here today,” she said.

Everett knelt in front of the dogs and stuck his hand out.

“Summers are always busy,” Everett’s grandfather said.

The dogs sniffed his hand and bowed their heads, then stretched their front legs out and lowered half their body to the ground, heads flat against the ground. They looked like they were stretching, but to Everett—and the teens who watched—it was a bow.

Mrs. Lars looked at her dogs, a fond smile crossing her lips. “Roll over.”

The dogs rolled away from each other, paws in the air. The people watching
aww
ed.

Everett rubbed the dogs’ soft bellies. He felt many eyes on him, and one particular pair made it feel like a knife was poised at his neck. Mrs. Lars nodded, brown eyes brighter than Everett had ever seen them. A wave of heat washed over his exposed skin, then under his clothes.

“Everett? What’s happening?”
Buzz was panicked.

The box with Everett’s aura in it shuddered in his mind. Something tugged on the lock, and Everett visualized the box disappearing out of that invading force’s reach. The lock dropped, untouched. The intruding warmth that was coiling into Everett’s skin retreated—and then returned with full force. It was almost painful. Something sharp poked into the lock, and Everett stood, staggering backward into another body.

“Everett?” his grandfather said.

He couldn’t make a scene. There were too many people watching. Mrs. Lars knew. She had used it to her advantage. Everett couldn’t fight back.

“Everett? I’m on my way right now. Damn! I shouldn’t have gone so far!”
Buzz let out a string of nonhuman curses.

“She’s forcing my aura out. How?”
Everett’s vision pulsed with red veins.

Everett went to exit the shop, but Jake was in the doorway, his hands full of shopping bags. “Mom?”

“Everett has something important to say,” Mrs. Lars said. She folded her fingers over her palm and inspected her scarlet nails. They were filed to points.

Everett’s grandfather rushed through the remaining customers in line.

“Ten minutes until the next rounds start,” someone said.

The shop filled with voices and movement as the customers grabbed their books, some choosing random books as they passed, and hurried to the checkout.

Jake closed the door behind the last customer and joined his mother. He put the bags next to his mother’s feet.

“Everett is a Bridge Guardian,” Mrs. Lars said.

Jake’s eyes lit up.

“You finally have a friend who is special just like you.” Mrs. Lars rubbed Jake’s shoulder.

Their physical resemblance to each other was uncanny. They were two parts of the same person. Mrs. Lars had the majority of the confidence and Jake had what little was left over. In this pair, the mother ran the show and the son followed with the compliance of the hellhounds.

“Jake is a hybrid. He doesn’t know many other specialties his age,” Mrs. Lars said.

Specialties, as if they weren’t human at all.

“How did you force my aura out? I had it locked,” Everett said.

“It wasn’t locked very well.”

“It was as solid as some of the blocks experienced witches create,” Everett’s grandfather said, his voice brusque with no room for kindness.

“His hold on it must have slipped since you last inspected it.” Her eyes glittered as they focused on Everett, her lips stretched in a wide smile. “I suspected there was something special about you.”

Mrs. Lars patted Jake’s shoulder. He jerked with every pat, sweat breaking across his face. She squeezed his shoulder after the final pat, fingers clawlike. They dug into Jake’s shirt. The skin around her nailbeds turned gray.

She smiled pleasantly. “Play safe. Jake is a fragile child.” She flicked her son’s cheek and left, a dog on either side of her feet, their paws moving in unison.

“You should go,” Everett’s grandfather said to Jake.

“I’ll text you later, Everett.” Jake walked backward, exposing Everett’s aura with a weak wave of warmth. “You really are….” He bumped into a swivel shelf and sent a few books to the ground.

Everett helped Jake put them back. Two customers walked in and distracted Everett’s grandfather from distastefully eyeing Jake.

“She was right.” Jake was awed.

Everett was disgusted.

Mrs. Lars had suspected all along. Had sent her son here to get Everett’s attention. Had probably schemed much more.

“When can I summon the bridge?” Everett whispered.

“Can you make it tomorrow night?”

Everett gave the shelf a spin and touched up the rows. Jake tucked in a book that was stuck out.

“Same time as last night?”

Jake nodded. “It might be earlier since we don’t know how long the mission will take.” He looked at Everett’s grandfather. “Don’t tell your grandpa. He won’t approve of anything involving me, thanks to my mom.” He huffed.

Jake left with the shopping bags his mother hadn’t taken.

Buzz flew through the shop’s open door. “
Everett? Are you okay?”
He crashed into Everett’s chest. “
You got me so worried. I had to sprint here all the way from San Francisco.”

“What were you doing in San Francisco?” Everett asked.

“I went on a boat tour with my buddies. I flew as fast as I could. My tentacles got stretched so much, and they hurt….”

Buzz whined and Everett held him out. The tentacles resembled overcooked angel hair noodles.

EVERETT TUCKED
his face into the crook of his arm. He lay on his bed, his phone at his elbow. He and Bryce had been texting for the past half hour or so.

Bryce texted,
Are you free tonight? I want to give you a night ride around town.

Love to! My grandfather doesn’t want me out, but I can sneak through the back door. 11 PM maybe?

Buzz was sleeping on Everett’s pillow, resting his noodle-like tentacles. Earlier, Buzz had been guarding the beer bottles sitting on the night table from Everett, saying that Everett had drunk too much. Drinking hadn’t been part of any plan, but Everett had been desperate for something to take his mind off the two-way bridge he was to create the next day. His grandfather always kept a few bottles in the fridge in case they had visitors. They rarely had visitors, and when they did, the visitors didn’t drink.

Bryce texted,
You’re going to sneak out? I don’t believe you.

One of Buzz’s tentacles twitched, and Everett sputtered before bursting into laughter.

“Are you laughing at me?”
Buzz said.

“I’m sorry. They’re just so flimsy.” Everett laughed so hard he snorted.

If Everett hadn’t drunk so much, he wouldn’t have laughed so hard.

“I told you not to drink that much,”
Buzz sniffed.

“I’m stressed. I can’t think. I needed to relax and there was beer conveniently in the fridge.” Everett had loathed the bitter taste, but he had gulped it down and his gag reflex had almost kicked in.

Everett texted,
I’m a little drunk so I’m in the mood for some rule breaking.

You? Drinking? I can’t imagine.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but Everett couldn’t tell if Bryce was joking or disappointed—or both.

“Won’t your grandpa notice it’s gone?”
Buzz said.

“He will, but by the time he notices, I’ll be in so much trouble he won’t care.” Or Everett would be dead and there wouldn’t be a need to care.

Everett could see the sleep zap out of Buzz’s body. “
You’re going to do it?”

“I have to. This might be the only break I get.”

“You do know what they’re going to do to you.”