“If I had a dollar for every pretty big guy I saved, I’d have spent them all on several bottles of wine which I can’t even fucking drink right now,” I grumble.
“You can’t drink wine?”
Shit. “I’m on a diet,” I spit, and Danielle’s eyes go to my stomach, which is exposed in this purple crop top. I’ve always been naturally athletic with a fast metabolism, which I know now is from being half angel. But I also dedicated myself to working out. Cardio is important when you’re running towards—and sometimes away from—demons.
“Oh.” Her hands go to her own stomach, and I immediately feel terrible for making anyone feel bad about themselves.
“Okay, not really. I drink too much,” I blurt because, yes, I’d rather Danielle think I have a drinking problem than contribute to the insane amount of pressure the whole fucking world puts on women to look a certain way. “I’m trying to cut back for my mental health.” I tap my forehead and then motion to the table. “You look a little pale. Sit down and I’ll get you something to drink.”
Danielle doesn’t move, and the look in her eyes is one that strikes a chord inside me right away. She’s scared of me. I blink and see the momentary fear in William Martin’s eyes. I don’t quite remember when my powers first started showing, but I remember the first time the man I thought was my father looked at me with fear in his eyes.
It was followed by him slapping me across the face. We were sitting in the dining room, and Scott was throwing some sort of fit over not getting his way and was pushing Abby’s buttons on purpose. Misery loves company, and if Scott was unhappy, he wanted everyone to sulk in unhappiness just like him.
Scott slowly inching closer and closer to Abby, encroaching on her personal space and elbowing her each time he lifted his fork up to take a bite. Abby finally had enough and shoved his plate back into his spot, which resulted in knocking over his glass of water. It spilled in his lap and all over his Gameboy. Scott got mad and jumped up, holding his dripping wet Gameboy in his hands.
The look in his eyes still haunts me to this day. He was so mad at Abby. His little sister. She was only nine at the time. He thought his stupid video game was broken, and he raised it in the air, ready to hit Abby with it. He wanted to make her hurt.
Everything happened in slow motion. His face wrinkled with hate. His hand moved back, knuckles whitening from gripping the device so hard. And then he swung, set on hitting Abby right in the face.
All I did was stop him.
He swung his hand down, and I grabbed telekinetically, stopping him from hitting Abby at the last second. He stood there, frozen and unable to move his arm. And then sudden I was the bad guy. Scott’s screams still echo in my head. I didn’t hurt him, though I should have. I should have swung his hand the other way and had him hit himself in the face with that fucking Gameboy.
I held him there, anger surging inside of me. The lights flickered above us, and the next thing I know, William Martin was standing above me, demanding I let his son go. And then he slapped me across the face.
I fell back out of my chair and hit the floor. Abby screamed, and Nancy ran over, scooping me up. I was still her daughter then, even though she was ashamed of me. She still cared then, and to this day, I don’t understand how she so easily threw me away.
“I’m…I’m fine,” she says.
“You look a little upset,” I say gently. “Which is understandable. Please sit?” I motion to the chair, and she nods. I can’t deny how cliché I look right now. Danielle almost misses her chair since she won’t take her eyes off me, but she sits down.
“So, your cousin’s roommate told you witches are peaceful and we don’t fight demons, right?”
“Right.”
“Why do you trust her over me? Did she save your life?” That might be a low blow, but fuck, I’m taking it.
“No, of course not. She wouldn’t tell me much, but she said witches don’t seek out demons. She said you’re warned to stay away from that sort of stuff.”
“We are. Demons are dangerous to witches and nonmagical people alike. They don’t see a witch as anything different than the way they’d see you. We’re all human, after all.” But I’m actually not.
“They why do you do it?” Her brows pinch together and she’s looking at me like she wants to turn and run out the door.
“Because I can.” I pull out a chair and sit across from Danielle. “Not all witches have the same powers, just like not all humans are good at math.” I shake my head at my poor analogy. “Some witches are really good with potions or reading tarot cards. I’m good at kicking demon ass. So I do. It’s not exactly the best way to spend a Friday night—though arguably not the worst, either—but for every life I save…it reminds me. Someone has to do it.”