COVINGTON, OHIO.
2018
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A ROLLER RINK WAS THE LAST thing Estela expected as the small building came to view.
Her brows furrowed in confusion, eyes darting between the building and the red pin on her phone's GPS as she steered the car inside the open parking lot.
"Are you sure this is the right place?" Estela asked Dick skeptically.
Scooter's Roller Palace was unusually packed for a weekday. Families and teenagers loitered the entrance, some of the latter wearing roller skates as they chatted with their friends. The parking lot was filled with cars too, but it was easy for Estela to find an empty spot just two rows away from the main entrance.
Dick snorted. "You're not gonna trust a million dollar satellite that spat out these coordinates?"
Estela rolled her eyes and glanced at the building again with pursed lips. "Well, when you put it that way. . ."
They got out of the car in unison. Estela released a relieved groan, stretched her legs and arms before jogging after Dick, who was already striding towards the entrance without her.
"Dick," she muttered under her breath once her legs finally caught up to him.
"I heard that."
"Good," Estela simply said. "You didn't wait for me."
He let out a bemused scoff and held the door open for her. "I'm so very sorry, Your Majesty."
"You're never going to let that go, are you?" she questioned with a sigh but nonetheless went inside.
The first thing Estela registered was the music that seemed to be playing from all around them. Her steps slowed a little, taking in the massive size of the of the room she had just walked into. There was a spacious, oval-shaped roller rink on one side, packed with smiling kids. Deeper in, Estela saw tables and booths arranged just in front of a burger shack, the smell of fries wafting through the air. In the remaining spaces of the area, there were multiple arcade games and booths flashing with neon colors of every kind.
"Wow," she said. "Can we stay here for a while?"
"We have to find Rachel, remember?" Dick told her a bit distractedly, brown eyes scanning every direction.
"Yeah. . ." Estela trailed away, voice dying in her throat as she spotted a curly mane of magenta hunched over one of the jukeboxes. "But I think I just found someone better."
Dick followed her line of sight and pressed his lips in a determined line. He advanced towards the woman, a tidal wave of overprotectiveness dousing him, all towards the young teen he'd grown to care for.
Estela's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before speed-walking towards them, hoping to God that Dick wouldn't do something stupid—which she knew was likely.
"Excuse me," he said rather loudly. Thankfully, indistinct conversations from strangers' around them muffled it out.
Still, the woman didn't turn around, and just fumbled with the jukebox as if she hadn't heard Dick at all.
"Hey. I gotta talk to you," he tried again.
Finally, the mystery woman turned around for the briefest moment, and Estela caught dark green eyes staring back at them.
"Yeah, take a number," she told Dick almost dismissively before turning her fur coat-covered back to them.
Estela snickered. "What this idiot means is," she said, shooting Dick a look, "that we're here to talk to you. About Rachel."
Simple words but it did the work. The woman paused and finally turned around, leaning against the edge behind her as she raised a perfectly sculpted brow at them. Her eyes landed on Dick first.
"You're Dick from Detroit," she said with a hint of realization. "So that makes you—" her head tilted towards Estela next "—Estela. Rachel's told me about you."
Estela smirked a little. "All good things I hope?"
The woman shrugged. "Better than what she told me about Dick."
A small laugh bubbled out of Estela's chest. "I love your boots, by the way."
"Thank you," she replied with a dazzling smile.
Dick subtlety rolled his eyes. "Alright, come on, where is she?" he asked the woman impatiently.
She set her lips in a straight line and jutted her chin towards the arcade booth behind them. Estela turned, relief swelling in her chest upon seeing Rachel. She was standing beside a teenage boy with green hair, already looking at her with a small smile, which only dropped when her stare turned to Dick.
"Hey, come on," he told her firmly. "We're going."
"What are you doing here?" she asked him angrily.
"Now's not the time, okay?"
"Dick," chided Estela
"Why are you here?" Rachel repeated, this time with an added glare.
"We've come to get you, Rach," the dark-haired woman told her in a much gentler tone. "Look, there's still people after you and you're all the way out in the open."
"I'm not going anywhere with him," she told Estela.
Dick sighed. "Can we talk about this somewhere else? Let's go." And before Rachel could protest any further, he started making his way towards the exit, the other woman following in suit after giving Rachel a knowing look.
"C'mon," Estela mumbled to the teen, and tilted her head towards the other two adults.
Rachel released a heavy sigh and stepped away from the arcade booth. She'll admit that even if seeing Dick again brought her anger back, Estela's presence felt like a huge blanket of comfort wrapped around her shoulders. But a sense of guilt clenched her heart when she saw her bandaged temple and cheek; Rachel immediately knew it was from the fight at the rooftop.
Shooting her new friend a sad wave of goodbye, she forced her feet to march forwards and exit out of Scooter's Roller Palace.
The cold air greeted all of them immediately, lazy drafts of wind stinging any exposed skin and the light layer of ice and dirty snow crunching under their shoes. It wasn't too cold that gloves were a necessity, but all of them still shivered a little—all except Estela.
"Is now a good place to talk?" Rachel called out to Dick.
"Rachel, we gotta get you somewhere safe."
"Do you know who sent that weird family after her?" the woman asked him, her heels clicking against the ground as she followed Dick to the parking lot.
"Who the hell are you?" he shot at her.
"I don't know," she said a little hesitantly. "But somehow Rachel's the key to me figuring me out."
"Is that why you kidnapped her?" he asked bluntly, stopping in the middle of the lot as he did so.
The woman raised a brow at him, then turned to Estela. "Is he always like this?"
"Yeah," she said. "You should see him on a bad day."
"This isn't his bad day?"
"Estela," Dick stressed whilst shooting her a small glare, "not helping."
An annoyed huff escaped Rachel's lips; as much as she liked Estela, sometimes her and Dick acted more like a kid than she did.
"She didn't kidnap me. She saved me," she told him, then bit her lip upon remembering the news. "How's Dawn?"
"Rachel. . ."
"I read what happened online." She looked at him and Estela with a pleading frown. "Is she gonna be okay?"
"Who's Dawn?" the woman asked no one in particular.
"She's a friend," Estela answered when she saw Dick's nostrils flare. He was getting agitated, she could tell, right from the moment when he addressed her without the nickname he wouldn't let anyone else use.
Estela turned to Rachel again. "Dawn is. . .she's in a coma, Rach. . .right now all we can do is hope and wait."
"I can't talk about this right now," Dick muttered impatiently. "The cops are looking for you. They think you killed your mom."
The woman chuckled. "That's news."
"I may have failed to mention. . ."
"And they're looking for you too," he rounded on the stranger, interrupting Rachel's trail of words. "Assault on multiple officers. Arson. And not to mention, kidnapping."
"Like I said," Rachel snapped back at him, "she didn't kidnap me, she saved me. When you didn't."
"Well, that's technically true," the woman agreed. "Dick."
"Oh, god," Estela groaned under her breath.
"Gee, that's a new one," said Dick sarcastically.
"I'm not going without her," Rachel told him firmly.
The woman hummed in agreement. "What she said."
Dick sighed defeatedly and locked eyes with Estela. She would have just agreed and went with it, he saw it in the way her eyes shined at him; a telepathic understanding that only worked between them. But frankly, as much as that was the easier thing to do, wanting a solid answer was a top priority he wanted to cross out.
"Can you please tell me what the hell is going on?" he begged Rachel quietly.
"You left me."
"No, I didn't."
"You might as well have. You were going to."
"Rachel. I wasn't."
"I read the note," she retorted.
Suddenly, Estela was right beside him, clutching his jacket sleeve and giving it a tug. "Dick, now's not the time," she warned quietly.
He ignored her. "Look. . ."
"You were just gonna leave me with them?" Rachel pushed.
"I just need time to figure things out," he told her.
"Stop."
"Rachel—"
"STOP LYING!"
It was the same distorted, demonic voice Estela heard back in Hank and Dawn's apartment. She saw a glimpse of Rachel's eyes flashing black shadows, then the windows on every car within their vicinity exploded in shards, showering them just like it did in that kitchen.
Estela barely had time to blink when two hands suddenly cradled her head. In her slightly slouched posture, she didn't need to look up to know that it was Dick's.
Multiple alarms were blaring left, right, front and back, catching the attention of everyone inside the roller rink and matched the rhythm of blood pumping through her ears.
"I need to go back to the Sisters!" Rachel shouted, a hint of the demonic voice mixing with hers as she shielded her face away from everyone else.
"Okay," Dick breathed out, eyes wide and staring at the damage around. "Okay. Come on, let's go."
They scattered, Estela and Dick guiding Rachel to the Porsche while the woman took to her car, and left the premises with no hesitations.
No lips parted open as Dick kept a close eye on the woman's car, so all that filled the tense silence was the sound of their beating hearts.
ESTELA FINALLY GOT HER FILL of proper food and water when they arrived in Saint Paul's Convent, the nunnery Rachel's mother dumped her in shortly after she was born.
She didn't care that she was groveling down a plate of rice and really dried beef roast like a starved animal; the untraceable hunger she'd been carrying for the entire journey had finally made its appearance.
After she was finished, Estela thanked the other nuns who were in the cafeteria with her head hung low, bashful with the rabid behavior she'd shown. But the nuns merely smiled and proceeded to just coddle her with offerings of more food. They already knew the reason why Estela was there. Sister Catherine, the nun who had taken care personal care of Rachel, had escorted her to the cafeteria after hearing her stomach embarrassingly rumble.
That had been after her conversation with Rachel, comforting words Estela told her was still swimming in her mind as she walked the darkly lit corridors of the main entrance, right where the church was located.
Rachel had sighed and asked, "Does it get any better?"
Estela had merely smiled and surprised both herself and Rachel when she placed a motherly kiss on her forehead. "Yes. We just have to keep fighting until we get there."
She couldn't help but feel she was also addressing herself.
Estela was leaning against the walls adjacent to the church's great oak doors when they opened to reveal Dick.
"Hey," he muttered in greeting.
Estela frowned, taking note of his stormy features. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Rachel's in there, if you wanna talk to her."
She waved a hand lazily. "Nah, she and I already talked."
Dick nodded slowly and went to stand next to her, leaning his shoulder against the wall with his hands tucked into his pockets, grateful for a moment's peace that the silent hallway gave.
"What'd you say to her?" Estela asked curiously, peering up through her thick lashes.
Dick shrugged. "Just. . .stuff."
Estela had a feeling that it was more than just stuff. For a second she was worried that he might have scolded her, but before she can ask Dick about it, the tired creases on his forehead and the permanent frown lines around his mouth caught her attention. And just like that, her mind was completely elsewhere.
"Did you eat?" she asked, suddenly straightening up.
"I'm fine."
"You always say that," she snapped lightly, afraid that if her pitch was any louder, the portraits of saints and angels would come to life and scold her like a child. Estela took out a lump of tissue from her jacket pocket, unwrapped it and presented a golden bread roll to him. "Eat this."
A half-smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He took the bread and inspected it in half-hearted amusement. "Were you saving this for yourself?"
Estela shrugged. "I may have snuck it on my way out."
Dick tsked playfully. "You know you could've just asked them."
"What can I say? Old habits die hard."
He snickered to himself and took a big bite, reducing the bread to half its original size. "Little thief," he told her through a mouthful.
Estela laughed heartily. "Careful, Grayson. The next time you check your wrist it's not a watch you're gonna see."
And when a laugh escaped his chest too, for a second Estela was a teenager again, hearing Dick's boyish chuckles that settled like a deep-set gemstone in her chest. It was a sound she had forgotten she adored; familiar, comfortable, secure.
The feeling didn't last, though—of course it wouldn't. All good things don't last. She suddenly remembered what she was here for; remembered the missing pieces of her heart that Dick broke and scattered across the four corners of the globe, even if he didn't mean it.
Estela's smile dropped slowly. Maybe it was her full stomach, bringing logic back into her mind; maybe it was the presence of God. Whichever it was, looking at Dick now, she had never seen such clear clarity before.
The two figures sitting atop her shoulders were immersed in a heated debate, shouting words that clashed against her skull.
Ask him! You deserve to a damn explanation!
No, don't! Don't be selfish!
But Estela gave into her temptations as ironic as it was, being under God's roof and all. Besides, they were in a church where confessions are always said, and she wanted Dick to do exactly just that.
"Dick. . ."
But before she can even blurt the question out, he straightened and fixed his attention on someone behind her.
"Oh, she needs a minute by herself," he said.
Confused, Estela turned around and caught the smiling face of Sister Catherine.
"God is with her," she told them gently.
Estela merely flashed a tight-lipped smile, but only so that she can prevent herself from yelling out all her frustrations at the poor nun. On the other hand, a small part of her was relieved to be interrupted, just like how the angel on her shoulder was praising to the Almighty right this second.
She turned her question over in her mind repeatedly, cringing more and more as the sin of pride took over with its hands on the reigns.
'Why did you leave?' Pathetic, her subconscious hissed at her.
"When she was a girl, did she ever show signs of any, um. . ." Dick trailed away, pulling Estela from her internal battles. "Any, um. . ."
"Any what?" the nun asked patiently.
Dick counted to three before shaking his head. "Nothing," he said with a quick smile, sharing a look with Estela afterwards.
Just then, the sound of an engine revving made the two adults' ears perk up.
Estela's eyes widened. "Is that—?"
But Dick was already out of the church before her words completed its sentence, and when he came back with a muscle ticking in his jaw, she couldn't help the phrase that escaped her mouth.
"Well, fuck."
"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DON'T know how to hot-wire a car."
Estela threw her hands up in exasperation in the passenger's seat. "I was homeless, Dick, not a delinquent on the streets."
He shrugged, eyes glued to the road and foot pressing down on the accelerator. His main focus was getting to the stranger—his Porsche, truthfully—on time, relying on Estela's directions as she kept her eyes locked on the GPS in his phone.
"Turn left now!"
Dick obeyed and immediately swerved the steering wheel, feeling his body tilt as the motion lurched them to the right.
"Jesus, Stel, can you warn me a bit earlier next time," he told her incredulously, relief filling his bones as soon as he spotted his car—the only car—in the parking lot.
"Sorry," she muttered sheepishly before unbuckling the seatbelt and stepping out. She scanned the building before her, puzzled as to the reason what the car-stealing-stranger needed a storage space for.
"You think she's hiding dead bodies here?" she asked Dick, falling into line beside him as they started walking towards the entrance with their eyes and ears peeled.
He shot her a glance.
"What?"
"Nothing." He shook his head and fastened his pace. "Let's just find her quickly—hey!"
Estela blinked in surprise and bumped into his shoulder as he abruptly skidded to a stop. She twisted her head, seeing an open storage space with numerous papers, photographs and articles stuck on the walls, some even hanging on strings with a clothe's peg. Piles of books were stacked atop of dusty tables and floors, and standing in the middle of it all was the magenta-haired woman.
"You stole my car," Dick told her, almost hurt. "I like my car."
Estela rolled her eyes.
"How did you find me?" she asked, tilting her head with curiosity.
Dick held up his phone. "There's an app for that," he said, agitated.
"This place yours?" Estela asked, stepping inside almost carefully as she surveyed the details scattered all around.
"Think so. . ." she trailed away in reply, staring at the walls as if she was seeing them for the first time too.
"You got a name?" Estela asked almost awkwardly, only just realizing that her and Dick didn't bother asking for it.
"Kory. . .Kory Anders"
"Like—the herb?"
She turned her dark green eyes on Estela, giving the woman a hard stare with one of her brows arched upwards. Kory Anders may have forgotten her identity and memories, but she certainly did not forget how to intimidate people—and look good while doing it.
Estela raised her hands in surrender. "Sorry, bad joke."
"How long you been looking for Rachel?" Dick asked, seeing a picture of the said girl pinned to one of the walls.
Kory shrugged. "A few months, I thought."
"Seems like a lot longer than a few months."
"You think?"
Dick started taking pictures on his phone, the camera shutter clicking in intervals as he moved around the room. Estela picked up on what he was doing quick enough and started walking around as well, eyes darting for any hints of evidences that might help back up the case report about Rachel.
She found herself beside Kory, the woman looking at the pages in front of her and murmuring under her breath.
"This yours, too?" Estela asked her, blinking up at the strange letters written on what looked like a hundred-year-old parchment. "What's that writing?"
Kory read it aloud; in a language that Estela had never heard of before.
"What does that mean?" Dick suddenly asked, coming up beside them.
"I have no idea."
Estela released a breath. "Where did you say you were from again?"
"I didn't," Kory replied, her voice sounding distant as she ran her fingers over a piece of writing stuck on the wall. "Raven is the first species of birds to be mentioned in the Torah."
Something in the back of Dick's head clicked. "A man came after Rachel. He had a raven tattoo on his back. . ."
A nervous chuckle escaped Estela's mouth. "That's got to be a coincidence right?"
"Rachel's birthday. . ." Kory ripped a piece of paper from the wall. "The mortality rate spikes every year on that day. Ever since she was born, over additional dead worldwide."
Dick and Estela exchanged a look only one could say was filled with dread. They watched warily as Kory paced back and forth, mumbling inaudibly and often times reading the foreign scriptures hung on the string.
"I think she's part of a prophecy," she announced.
"Doomsday cult?" Estela mumbled to Dick with grim features.
Kory suddenly turned to them, looking more alarmed than Estela had ever seen her.
"She's the Destroyer of Worlds."
As if on cue, an explosion boomed in the distance, loud enough for the three of them to flinch and cower.
Dick and Estela looked at one another. "Rachel," they said in unison before rushing out of the building and towards the nearest exit, seeing a cloud of black smoke billow in the distance.
There was a cacophony of cawing that made her look up, seeing hundreds of birds flying overhead in the opposite direction. It was like a punch had been delivered to her gut when she realized they were ravens.
Events happening two times might have been a coincidence, but what did it mean when it happened thrice?
Estela had never been a superstitious person, even when her mother would often tell her about Mexican lores with its dos and don'ts. But ever since she met Rachel, she often found herself wondering whether all those stories of demons and ghosts were actually true.
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dear readers !
omg we finally meet queen kory anders !! bro i love her sm 😔 like so so much
little bit of a filler tbh the real action starts in the next few chapters 😏 and by action i mean that physically (and maybe seggsually 👁👁) but let's forget i said that for now 😅
also for any of you whos read six of crows / shadow and bone i jusy wanna say i am so fucken excited for the show skdjdjjd
don't forget to comment and vote‼️
— seph <3
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© cherrymalfoys