Moving around isn't out of the ordinary for coven member Rosemary. She's moved from place to place her whole life with the coven, avoiding hunters and keeping her kind safe.
But this move is different. The hunters are getting smarter, and the coven...
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Dark gloomy buildings stood like tall guards along the rainy streets, seeping from the seems and cloaked in a cover of moss and mold. One could call this the less glamorous NYC. The parts of the city you didn't see on TV. No big screens, projecting bright colorful smiling faces of Broadway shows and new toothpaste ads. No crowded streets with bright-eyed kids hoping to live in the tall beautiful city once they finish high school. Instead, there was a man, dressed in tattered clothing and shoes rotting right off his feet, messy gray hair dripping with the rain that was coming down harder now that the cab was slowing. Like a bad omen.
The scratching of the cab's tires signaled that the leaning apartment building was where we were stopping. Mother handed the driver a wad of cash, her black leather gloves blocking from their skin from connecting, in the rear-view mirror, a black Honda rolled to a stop, and familiar faces climbed out. I shoved the heavy cab door open, held on to my black bags and joined my mother where she was now standing on the wet sidewalk, her wool hat was already letting go drops of water. Thunder rumbled from somewhere far away and I shivered.
Nathan - a coven member only a year older than myself- stepped from the Honda and opened the trunk of the cab, gripping a few suitcases. I shifted my messenger bag onto my shoulder and went to Nathan's side.
"This isn't the worse we've had." He said in a low tone, weary of his father watching us grabbing luggage from behind the wheel of the Honda.
"No, it's not." That was the sad part.
The coven had moved many times, every year or so, or that's how it was before. This last move, the hunters had found us instantly. We guessed maybe a small town wasn't the option, the bigger the better. More people made it harder to zero out Wiccan. Nathan and I had been raised together, this hadn't been our first time in New York, the Coven had origins in New York, safe houses that we'd leave if necessary, but they would always be here to come back to. The door of the building groaned as we pressed it open, stepping out of the rain and into a dim room, the concrete floor littered with muddy footprints and strange stains. The front desk was tattered and the woman watching us had eyes that seemed glossed over.
Mother collected our keys, signed paperwork, handed over a check and we followed her into an elevator, the doors shook as they closed and the light above our heads flickered as we moved up. The numbers above the door went: 1...3....2....4.....5......7 and then the shrill ding caused me to wince. The doors stopped opening halfway and after a few glances to Nathan, we stepped through and found the right set of halls.
My mother cleared her throat as we passed creepy door after another. "Nathan, I think maybe, while I am with your father working onwards, you could stick around here with Rosemary for the next few weeks."
Nathan shifted the baggage in his arms and passed me a smile. "Of course. No problem at all."
I kept my silence as we stopped in front of a door at the end of a long stretch of hallway. Due to the oldness and clear vandalism, the door that was supposed to be 734 was actually 7 4
