AGAINST my better judgment, I broke curfew for the second time in one night. Dad's guilt-inducing speech was still fresh on my mind, but I knew I could not heed his pointed warning.
Not tonight.
For what it was worth, I faltered before leaving the safety of my childhood home. My breath hitched as I dared to tempt fate a second time in one day. And for a moment, the anxiety I experienced earlier in the day flooded my senses.
My ears rang, and the hairs on the nape of my neck raised. I gulped, choking on my saliva as the wind knocked out of my chest.
The first time I broke curfew today had been unintentional.
This was different.
It was the night before placements. The night before I was to be assigned my place in Bluestrike. I had spent countless months studying for the exam, and I had spent even more time readying my body for the physical part of the exam.
I was prepared, yet my body was alight with a new set of unshakable nerves.
Despite the additional time allotted for placements this year, I still nibbled my fingertips as I awaited a tiny slip of paper that would seal my fate. More accurately, it would seal my fate for the next year, which might as well have been a lifetime.
Bluestrike conducted placements every year—except for last—and as a result, everyone had a chance, both young and old, to take the exam each year if they did not like their results.
I would not be chained down to my placements for an eternity, but it sure felt like I would.
"Are you sick?" Spencer, one of my best friends, asked. My torso twisted at an awkward angle as I tried to jam my body through a narrow basement window. In doing so, my honey-brown hair cascaded down my face, blocking my vision. I huffed but was unable to sweep my hair out of my face. "You don't have the infection or whatever the fuck it's called, right?"
"You do look pale, Vi," Olivia, my other best friend, added.
"She's always pale," Spencer countered.
Olivia let out a disgruntled sound, always pestering Spencer when the opportunity presented itself. Meanwhile, I continued to struggle my way through the small opening.
"Then why did you ask if she was sick?" Olivia remarked.
"Because she smells different."
"Ew!" I heard a light smack in the background while I nearly collapsed back out through the window. "Why are you smelling Violet?"
After a few minutes of struggling, I was able to finally hoist my way into Olivia's basement, tucking my hair behind my ear in the process.
Beneath the window rested a sturdy, wooden bar. My feet landed on the wooden countertop, but I had to step on my tiptoes to prevent shattering the glass birds Olivia's mom had placed all around the surface.
My knees crumbled, and I less than gracefully rolled off the side of the bar. The faded, plush carpet absorbed my fall, and I looked at the popcorned ceilings.
Nothing.
Thankfully, my dramatic entrance had not riled Olivia's parents. They should have been fast asleep, but with Olivia's parents, it was always good to keep your ears peeled.
The room we congregated in was a small entertainment space, fitted with a bar, couch, and TV. The dull overhead lights mixed with the off-white wallpaper cast an unpleasant yellow hue around the room.
"It's an instinct."
"Yeah, a gross one," Olivia bent down and helped me to my feet. "Anyway, excuse Spencer—as always. Sorry about the window, Vi. At least Spencer cleared away all the spider webs when he tumbled through and nearly broke my mom's decorations."
"That was not my fault!" Spencer's frosty blue eyes bulged as he wailed his arms from side to side. "You could have moved them for fucks sake, Liv."
"I forgot," she shrugged her shoulders while I tipped my head back in laughter. "Plus, I swear my mom would notice if I moved them. She's attuned to vibrations and—okay, I'm not exactly sure what she's attuned to—but she'd know, and I'm sure as hell both of you would not like to deal with my mom."
Spencer stood up straight and shook his head. "Not even on a good day."
Olivia's parents were, for lack of a better term, eccentric. They marched to the beat of their own drum. Yet, they tended to lack the self-awareness of just how out of sync with the rest of the world they were.
Olivia chalked it up to her mom being part witch, but Spencer said Olivia's mom had a few screws loose regardless of the state of her DNA.
"I'd like to see Spencer try and put up a fight against her," I smirked.
"She's old," Spencer retorted. "She'd stand no chance."
"She'd burn you to a crisp," Olivia said.
"Wait," Spencer paused. "Not literally, right? Olivia, tell me she can't really do that? Olivia!" Spencer sighed. "I told you guys we should have done this at my house."
"You don't have the supplies," Olivia scoffed before muttering, "Dumbass."
"You could have brought them."
Olivia blinked. "I'm not a mail delivery service, Spencer."
Spencer's head bounced backward, his eyes slanted. "When did I say you were?"
"It was implied." Olivia turned toward me. "Wasn't it implied, Violet?"
Twisting my lips, I said, "It was kind of implied."
Spencer's mouth hung open before he jammed it shut. He reopened his mouth to say, "Is this really how we're going to spend the night before placements?"
"Do we normally spend it any other way?" I asked.
"I thought I was being quite tame," Olivia flicked her hair over her shoulder.
Spencer exhaled through his nostrils. "For fucks sake."
"Please," Olivia held out a hand in warning, a devious smile appearing on her plump lips. "Have some respect."
"Olivia."
"We're about to conduct a ritual," Olivia made sure to speak slowly. "We need a calm and inviting space, and I feel like you're not respecting that."
"I am calm," Spencer crossed his arms over his chest.
"You are so not calm," I scrutinized.
"Not you, too." Spencer hung his head. "I stand no chance when you two team up against me."
"Choose the right team next time," Olivia said before taking a deep breath. "Now, shut the fuck up, it's ritual time."
Olivia walked over to the mini fridge that was concealed behind the bar and pulled out a plastic shopping bag. The gray hue of the bag prevented me from seeing what was inside, but I didn't need to see what lay beyond the thin plastic to know the contents.
The decaying scent of rotting flesh hit my nose, and I stumbled backward. Spencer reacted similarly, only he pinched the bridge of his nose in detest.
"How long did you let it decompose before you put it in the fridge?" He stifled.
"Only a few days."
"A few days?" Spencer's head shifted toward the door.
Olivia laughed while pointing at the window above the bar. "Your exit is that way."
He groaned as Olivia walked closer to us, the plastic bag still gripped in her hand. The couch had been shoved against the wall to clear as much space in the center of the room as possible. A couple white candles were delicately placed around a large, crystal bowl.
Olivia kneeled in front of the bowl, opened the bag, and plopped the contents inside. Olivia slowly rose to her feet to wash her hands while my eyes glazed over the decaying rabbit's foot, which was slowly slipping down the side of the bowl.
The foot had been cut off somewhere around the upper thigh, blood dripping down the side. Even though I regularly ate wild rabbits while in wolf form, it was hard to stomach the smell and sight while standing in my human form.
Something about it didn't feel right.
When Olivia came back, she quickly lit the surrounding candles and motioned for us to flock to her sides. Following Olivia's unspoken orders, I positioned myself by her side. Olivia held out the palms of her hands.
I took her hand as we slowly settled on the carpeted floor. Olivia cleared her throat and began, "Now, let's see how much luck we can squeeze out of this leg before placements. What do you say?"
She looked around at both of us. Her green eyes lit up with excitement as we nodded our heads. Olivia took this cue to start the ritual.
Since her mom was part witch, Olivia had picked up a thing or two when it came to practicing witchcraft. However, everything she learned had been through the countless books lying around her house. She had no formal training, so we never expected much to result from the spells and rituals conducted.
But we could use all the luck we could get for the placements.
Olivia had us close our eyes during the ritual. She often got embarrassed when she leaned into her witch heritage. No amount of convincing would make her feel otherwise.
She chanted a few phrases in a language I could not understand. I could feel her rocking back and forth as the intensity of her chants grew more rushed. Her tempo increased and increased as her body rose ever so slightly with each word. My hand strained to stay in her hold until—with an abrupt jolt—she returned back to the ground.
A chill flashed through the room, and Olivia squeezed my hand. It was her signal we could open our eyes. Slowly prying my eyes open, I looked at the rabbit's foot.
It looked the same, but the candles had been blown out.
"Well," Spencer yawned, stretching his arms high above his head.
Olivia blushed. "I guess we'll just have to see if it worked tomorrow."
"That's it?" Spencer blinked.
"That's it," Olivia echoed, mimicking Spencer's dull expression.
"I want a refund."
Olivia placed her hands on her hips. "Get the fuck out."
"Liv—"
"Spencer," she warned while he tensed at her side. "Don't make me repeat myself, Spencer. I have another ritual to perform."
"Another ritual?"
"One to hopefully reverse whatever good vibes I put in the universe for you," she countered.
"Olivia," Spencer whined, hanging his head back. "Olivia, I–"
She sighed. "Help clean up and maybe all will be forgiven."
Spencer nodded his head vigorously while Olivia turned to me with a devious smile.
He's a dumbass, she said to me.
You could have gone easier on him, I responded. You know nerves do bad things to his bowels.
That's how we'll know if this luck ritual worked.
I shook my head, playfully nudging my elbow into her side. Spencer and I helped Olivia clean up the scene of our good luck ritual, making sure nothing was out of place. Olivia's mom would kick up a storm if she knew her furniture had been moved around in order for Olivia to practice magic.
Once we had finished cleaning, it was well past midnight. Both Spencer and I did not live far from Olivia, so the journey home would not be a long one, but it would be treacherous. As a result, we decided to bunker down and spend the night at Olivia's.
While staying at Olivia's house was debatably risky with the threat of her parents finding out we were here looming around us, it was undoubtedly safer than betting our odds with the Reapers. Olivia brought down two sleeping bags and said we could use the couch cushions as pillows before she stalked off to her room to fall asleep for the night.
After tossing and turning to the sound of Spencer's snores, I was able to fall asleep myself. However, as soon as the first sign of sunlight streamed through the basement, Spencer and I scrambled through the window to make it home in time to prepare ourselves for the placement results.
As I hoisted myself back through the window, more gracious this time, I thought my biggest worry of the day would be my impending placement. But that was before I caught wind of a faint yet tantalizing scent.
A scent that could only belong to one person.
My mate.