I sat awkwardly, staring at Megan as she scowled at me from across the room.
She stalked over, dumped a bag on the desk before me, and pulled a mirror from somewhere, resting it against the wall.
God, this was going to take a long time if she was going to sneer at me for the next hour.
She started to snatch things out of the bag and arrange them on the desk.
Her lips were pulled tight, her expression dark.
For several minutes as she busied herself, I kept the silence. Soon, I just couldn’t.
I cleared my throat. “Look, I’m sorry—”
“Just don’t stuff this up,” she snapped through a snarl.
“I won’t,” I promised, though my voice was so soft it couldn’t convince a soul. “But… why is this so important to you?”
Oh crap – it was the wrong question to ask. I instantly realized how inappropriately I’d phrased it.
It was too late.
“Because Hank Chaplain is relentless, uncaring, and willing to destroy everything I ever had. He killed my sister. Then, when he found out I was a witch, he went after me.”
I crumpled my hand over my mouth. “I- I’m so sorry.”
She turned from me sharply. “Don’t be sorry. Just catch that bastard.”
Her fear and anger ignited something in me. The same feeling that had ignited when I’d chased John Lambert to the basement. I was now in the impossible position of saving people again.
We sat in silence for several seconds until I couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m not ready to do this,” I suddenly muttered under my breath. “I don’t know enough about magic to go tonight.”
At first, she didn’t reply. Then she slammed her makeup bag down on the desk, locked a hand on the wood, and turned to me stiffly. “You have no option. Plus, Franklin wouldn’t be taking you along unless he was confident of your abilities.”
“Of my abilities?” I said through a choked breath. “I don’t even know how to use my power,” I began.
She suddenly put a hand up stiffly. “Stop right there.”
“Sorry?”
“You aren’t allowed to tell me.”
“I’m what?”
“Franklin told me never to ask, and I will not pry.”
“Wait, what do you mean? I’m not allowed to tell you what kind of magic I do?”
“Yes,” she said through clenched teeth. “Now lean back so I can get your cheeks.”
I shifted back without protest, gut suddenly curling. Why was Franklin so scared of my abilities that he wouldn’t even tell his trusted secretary? None of this made any sense. If he was vulnerable, and this job tonight was important, why the hell would he take me? I got lucky last night because I’d taken my bangles off. But I had absolutely no control whatsoever over my power. So if anything happened tonight, I would choke. And the consequences? I couldn’t face finishing that thought.
I squeezed my eyes tightly closed. I heard Megan take a frustrated, angry breath. But as I warily opened my eyes and waited for her to give me another serve, she stopped. She leaned back and locked a hand over her face. “Franklin’s right – I’m too close to this case. I wouldn't be able to keep it together if I had to face Hank again. So you’re all he’s got,” she admitted. She jerked her hand back and faced me. She faced me with such honesty, her expression so unguarded, I realized for the first time I was seeing the real Megan.
I watched her shift away and carefully pick up a dress. “Look, I’ll be honest – I don’t like you. But right now, I need you to do me a favor: you have to do whatever you can to bring Hank in and keep Franklin safe.”
I was in no position to make a promise, yet I still nodded. I couldn’t say anything, couldn’t break the tense silence that spread between us.
“You won’t have to worry – Franklin will be there, and he won’t leave your side. When it comes to the fight, he’ll tell you exactly what to do. Don’t question – just follow his every order.”
I nodded.
Megan appeared to relax. Without another word, she continued to do my makeup. The entire time, I simply stared at my reflection. If you’d asked me several hours ago, I would’ve said Vali was a monster, that this entire operation was nothing more than vigilante justice. Now? I had no idea what was going on.
It didn’t take too much longer until Megan pronounced me as ready. Though I took a fleeting glimpse into the mirror and realized I looked great, suddenly I didn’t care.
She gestured toward the door. “Franklin will be waiting.”
I took a hesitant step forward. I wanted to know more about what had happened to her, whatever the hell Hank Chaplin had done. I didn’t get the opportunity to ask. She faced me, expression drawn and yet a hard glint flickering deep in her gaze. “Just don’t let that bastard get away.”
I nodded low. I turned and walked out of the room, strangely ready to face the greatest fight of my life.