hardened. “No. You do it now or go. No secrets and no tricks.”
It was do or die, and I wasn’t sure why I felt so strange about what I was going to do. Maybe it was years of my mother rattling off her absurdities in my ear, building layer upon layer of paranoia. Now that her hysteria seemed to be founded in some truth, all her warnings about never trusting anyone were nearly choking my voice.
“Promise me I can trust you?” That question from me was the epitome of desperation. It was a Hail Mary from a person whose faith had been destroyed years ago.
He stared at me, and it seemed we were the only two in the room. “Promises from people you don’t know mean nothing. It comes down to instinct. Are you going to decide to trust me or not?”
True to form, he wasn’t an easy sell. I either did this or walked, but he wouldn’t be barring the door. It was up to me.
“He might be a bastard sometimes, but you can trust him,” Oscar said. “I’ll vouch for him if it gets this show rolling.”
That didn’t help even a little.
“If I can help you, you get me out of here. That’s the deal,” I said, holding out my hand to shake on it.
“Yes.” He shook my hand. “Now, if you don’t mind?”
It was time to take off the coal necklace I wore. If everything else my mother had said were true, then why wouldn’t that be as well? I had to try. I might not get another opportunity.
It was a stupid rock hanging from my neck, but taking it off now suddenly felt like stripping naked with an audience.
Whatever. This had to happen.
I put my fingers to my striped orange shirt and undid the first button.
Oscar said, “Honey witchy pie, I don’t think you know how many pairs he’s seen. You’re way off the mark. I wouldn’t mind seeing a glimpse if you insist, but it’s not getting you out of—”
“Oscar,” Hawk said, which stopped Oscar’s flow of words.
I gave Oscar a glare, which only encouraged laughter. Hawk wasn’t laughing. He was watching as I pulled on the thin chain I wore around my neck. It would’ve been better if he was laughing, because something about this moment felt too personal, like he was seeing into part of my soul as I stripped my final defense away.
The small nugget of coal finally came out of my shirt, and the laughter from Oscar stopped completely.
When my mother had been alive, I wore it because she’d made me. When she was taken away, I hadn’t taken it off for some reason or another. When she died, I’d found I didn’t have the heart to take it off. Crazy or not, misguided or not, she’d believed that this coal would protect me. And I was beginning to believe it had. I was starting to realize that a lot of the things she’d done had saved me. She’d been given shock treatments and thrown into a loony bin until she’d died in that institution, and she’d been right all along. If I could only have her back for a day, the questions I would ask…
Both men stared at the coal dangling from my fingers like humans would’ve stared at the Hope Diamond. I fisted it in my hand, and their gaze switched to me.
Forcing my fingers to loosen, I let the necklace slide from my fingers and onto the table beside me. A whiz of energy whooshed toward me, like a vacuum sucking up a glitter bomb.
“Oh shit,” Oscar said. He took a deep breath, leaning forward.
Hawk said nothing as he continued to watch.
I lifted the gem from the box. This time it flared to life, a rainbow of light exploded into the room, the gem almost sun-bright and hard to look at.
“Holy shit! Look at that color! No way she’s a Whimsy witch.”
“Put it down,” Hawk said.
I dropped the gem back onto the box. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Oh, you did something, all right,” Oscar said. “Maybe too right. I’ve never…”
I looked up to see Hawk staring in his direction.
“How did you manage to keep all that magic hidden for so long?” Oscar asked. “Even coal isn’t foolproof at blocking it.”
“I don’t know. I guess I lucked out.” I’d revealed enough tonight. I wasn’t getting into the tattoo or any of the other rituals my mother had made me do.
“That was a whopper if I ever heard one,” Oscar