October Sky discovers a pattern in the files she’s processing in the clerk’s office. She takes them to Victoria Armstrong, hoping her office can help, and is given a job instead.

Meanwhile, Victoria is trying to decide if this young woman has what she needs to help the city. When she pulls out a tarot card to answer a question, Victoria knows this woman might be just the right kind of answer she’s been looking for.

Read previous chapters

3

I had nothing to wear. I mean, really. I had nothing to wear. Working down in the hole was one thing. There were tiled walls and fluorescent lights. Probably the LEDs that looked like fluorescents, but who cared? They were sterile. I had a cubicle. I was a cubicle person. A pod person. I was—

Okay. No. I was not a pod person. Wasn’t that an alien? I don’t know. I never watched that movie. I may have been in the living room while it was playing, but I did not watch it.

My black pants had a dirty water mark on it because some dingle-dumby had splashed me with his car. And smiled. Jerk. And I smelled like fish and onions. Was it because I had eaten fish and onions. Who could afford fish? And the only onions in my apartment were the dried kind which… didn’t stink. Well, they did. Kind of. Okay, they smelled bad when you burned them in butter.

That didn’t matter. What mattered was that I somehow smelled like something I hadn’t even eaten.

My deck pulled at me as I carried my small box of belongings up the elevator. I was alone, so I reached in and took the card that felt the brightest, which I know is weird. Did I see it? No. My fingers did and they don’t have eyes. I get that. But my gift is… sometimes, it’s just weird.

First Breath.

I took in a four-count breath and stashed it as I took in the meaning of the card. I got it a lot, so I didn’t need to look into the masked eyes of the ethereal woman holding three worlds. I just had to take in a deep breath and then another because there was nothing else I needed to do in this moment but breathe.

By the time the doors opened, I was calm again. I didn’t even really understand why I was freaking out like this. Mitchel and Yolanda hadn’t even said a word to me. There was nothing rude said. Like, everything was fine. It was all good.

It was the fact that I was afraid of failing. I’d come up to this seriously fancy floor. I tried super hard to ignore the wood paneled walls as I walked past the first receptionist, who didn’t even look at me, and headed to the second one by Victoria’s office. I’d all but asked for this job.

I hadn’t.

And I didn’t know if I was enough to help. If I was enough to be… enough. OMG. How many times could I repeat that word?

My cards tugged at me again, but with a familiar pull. I didn’t need to see the card to hear what it was saying.

Breathe.

So, I did.

The woman with the glasses stood as I approached and eyed me with a slight sneer.

Okay, well that was a reaction I was used to. Thank you, family, for preparing me for life. I smiled at her and offered my hand, holding my small box of office supplies in the other. “I’m Sky Blaze.”

“I know.” She shook my hand. “I’m Eleanor Parks, Victoria’s assistant.”

“Okay.” I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do. “I should probably meet—”

“You are not going to see Victoria until you have something worth sharing. You will give that information to me. I will share that with her. Do you understand?”

I nodded and wondered how in the world I was going to get this woman on my side because that’s where I needed her.

My card tapped at my consciousness.

But Eleanor was looking at me, so I couldn’t just reach in and grab a card. I’d done that with Victoria yesterday and that really could have been bad. It hadn’t been, and that was good, but that was luck. So, I waited for Eleanor to look down at her desk and mess with paperwork before reaching into my purse and drawing a card.

Gathering Around.

What? Confused, I stashed the card, not sure what it was telling me. I wanted to know how to win this woman over and my deck was telling me I wasn’t alone? Obviously. I was standing in front of a woman I needed to—

Okay. So, she was trying to help me.

I took in a deep breath and continued to listen to my card.

This woman, Eleanor Parks, was trying to assist me and I had to accept that now was the time to allow that.

Okay. Well, letting my guard down wasn’t a strong suit of mine. It required trust, but… I would try. “I’m really nervous.”

“Don’t be. You’re just a clerk.” Eleanor grabbed a maroon folder and gestured for me to follow her down a pathway of open desks.

“Just a clerk on a floor where people dress nice.” And Eleanor was dressed very nice. Her pencil skirt went below her knees and she wore nylons. I’d never talked to anyone who actually wore those. Her heels were neat and functional and her pale blouse had a bow on top. Granted it was a long bow. Ties? Maybe they were ties that she’d… tied. OMG. Why couldn’t I think?

Breathe.

Okay. I was breathing. “Well, I mean, I’m not sure what I can do or how I can help.”

Eleanor stopped at a desk and gestured for me to set down my box.

So, I did. “I really don’t want to disappoint her.”

She nodded and looked down at my pants, noting my helmet. “You ride your bike?”

“It’s the cheapest form of transportation in the city and it’s fast.”

Eleanor’s expression softened slightly. “If you really care about helping and not just trying to get ahead—”

I shook my head and held up my hands. I was not the type of person who cared about getting ahead. Getting air conditioning? Yes. Ahead at the cost of others? No.

She nodded, accepting my non-verbal. “—then dig into those water reports and see what more you can find.”

“All the cases were dismissed.”

She tipped her head to the side. “Because there was nothing there or because something else was?”

“Something else?”

Eleanor sighed. “Money or threats.”

“Oh.” Oh my gosh. Was I actually looking into—Oh my gosh. Holy jeez. “Okay. Yeah.”

“Remember, anything you find, you bring it to me.”

I saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”

A slight smile struck her expression as she shook her head and turned back to her desk.

As the morning continued, more people filled this room and by mid-morning came around, almost all the desks were full and no one talked to me.

Which I was good about. I mean, a little hurt. Maybe. I did have feelings, but I also appreciated being alone. I just plugged in my earbuds, turned on some lo-fi music and went to work.

The information in the files wasn’t enough. That was the real issue. It almost looked—felt. It almost felt like there had been more information but it was hiding. And I didn’t know how to get to it. So, I took the files and the information I’d printed off and the list of questions I had which was almost more than the information. It wasn’t. It just felt that way, and I went to Eleanor.

Who was busy as all get out. So, I waited for her to pleasantly talk to everyone until she got to me. She flashed me a tight smile and offered her hand for the files I hugged.

I shook my head. “I have nothing but questions.”

She frowned but shrugged. “I’m not surprised. How are you going to answer the questions.”

“Well, we need someone to ask them.”

“Of who?”

“I don’t know.” I knew exactly who to ask what questions of, but I glanced down at my folder anyway even though there were no notes on it. “I want to speak to the parents of the wrongful death.”

“Why?”

“I feel like there’s information that’s being hidden.”

“And you think they’ll know?”

“Maybe.” I didn’t know why I thought that, but my cards had agreed with me. “Maybe you could send a detective or—”

“We don’t have detectives.” Eleanor gave me a frank look. “We have clerks.”

“I’m a clerk.” I realized what that implied as the words fell out of my dumb mouth. “You want me to go talk to them?”

Eleanor raised her eyebrows, her hands busy with paper on her desk. “You want to tell me why you can’t?”

So many reasons. Like, I didn’t talk to strangers. If I didn’t have to. I didn’t like talking to people. Strange people.

Breathe.

“Look at me,” I said. “Who is going to talk to me?”

Eleanor set down the paper in her hand and met my gaze, the shield of professionalism gone for the moment. “You know what I see?”

“A mess?”

She gave me one nod, quirked her lips, and tipped her head to the side before straightening all of that. “A woman who cares. That is going to open doors to information these reports need. And if we’re going to help, we need someone who isn’t afraid to care.”

“Afraid to care?”

“Sky,” she said quietly, leaning in. “They’re hiding. Why? They have a reason or reasons. And everyone is so afraid to care because they’re trying to survive.”

That wasn’t true.

She raised her eyebrows and returned to her work. “Take the car and gather your addresses.” She gave me a yellow sticky note with a name and a number on it. “Go.”

Holding the note and hugging my folder, I didn’t quite know what to do.

This was real. I was really helping. I was going to be a real person talking to people who needed me and…

I was going to help make a difference.

Straightening my shoulders, I went back to my desk to call the number. I was going to help people and that felt great.

And… terrifying.

Subscribe now

* * *

The door hisses open and the stink of mildew sucker-punches me in the face. Wet. Dead air. Rot. And the colors dampen with the smell, losing life. The overhead lights flicker and buzz like zombies chained to the ceiling, fighting to be released. Though the cracked floor looks hungry enough to eat them if they fell.

How bad did I want those chips?

Well, my life is a complete wreck, so, yeah. I need chips like vampires need blood and the moon needs the night.

I plow through the thick blanket of death, brushing past the shriveled oranges staged neatly by the door as if tempting people with life. No one was being tricked by that. This grocery store might sell a lot of things, but life wasn’t one of them.

I have no idea where to go for the chips. Reading the signs, I head to the left. Cake mixes call to me. Not that I particularly want to bake when I get back to that apartment I’d been lucky enough to score, but cake does sound good.

However, the sign leads to cereal and not cake mixes.

I’m not here for Kix.

Though, some Strawberry Cheerios might not be terrible.

But then I have to get milk, and I don’t want to buy milk. I don’t know where I’m headed after this. Buying milk means I gotta go back to my apartment right after this and the only thing waiting for me there are reruns and reruns are boring and stupid. So… that’s a no.

Angry and still fighting the odor of decay, I stomp through the store at a stealthy pace, the orange flowers trailing from the ceiling fluttering with my passing. I laugh. I may not know where I’m going, but there’s no sense in being late.

Finally, I find the fucking aisle with the damned chips.

They all just stare at me. Potato chips and corn chips. Round chips and triangle chips. There are even some scoops. I have no idea what I’m even looking for. I could go with my norm. Lays. They’re easy. Taste good. Never let me down.

But isn’t that what led me here? Walking down paths that never let me down? Doing things I’d always done before?

I have no idea what I’m doing tomorrow. As someone who had their everyday planned for her, I hate this. It feels like the world is shaking around me and I have no control over it.

The lights buzz louder as the shadows encroach, threatening to smother me.

A woman in blue pants moves through sludge, her cart grinding forward grain by grain.

Fear spikes hot in my chest. No. Not again. Not here. Not with my discharge fresh in my mouth. Not with Nora—

A man’s voice stretches, elastic, warping around me as he pulls his son back by the shoulder.

I slap my palms over my ears.

Doesn’t help. The sound is inside me, dragging, pulling, unmaking seconds.

The lights flicker, dim. Darkness swells, thick as oil, pouring in from the corners, swallowing every scrap of color.

Why now? Why again? My chest cracks open and all of it comes rushing in at once: Rearson’s rejection, Nora’s imposing death, this filthy store with its rotting fruit and hungry floor, the endless gray of tomorrow pressing down, second after second after second.

The world is happening all at once. And I can’t stop it.

A buzz electrifies my thigh.

The pitch of the lights rise back to the ceiling. The inky shadows retreat.

The father’s voice speeds up. “—do that so hard.”

The woman with the bright blue pants smiles. “Excuse me,” she says as she moves by.

This can’t be happening again. Being in the Air Force, I’d forgotten how this felt. It’d been a long time since time slipped from me.

My phone pulses again, so I fish it out and look at the caller ID. It’s not someone I recognize, but it’s local, at least. Could be the Veteran’s Association calling me back. Everyone says it takes forever to get through, but I’m not everyone else.

Swiping the green button, I put the phone on speaker. “Hello, this is First Ser—” I chew on my anger and redirect. “Dannika.”

“This is Victoria Armstrong,” the woman on the other end answers. “I work in the mayor’s office.”

Ah, so something good was coming. Good.

“I received your information from a colleague of mine. You have a skill set I need.”

Of course I do. I sidestep a man in full black riding leathers, watching him pass with appreciation, wanting to see him straddle his bike as a thrill of excitement and pleasure shoots through me like fireflies of light. “What kind of mission are you talking about?”

“One that shouldn’t be shared over the phone. I’m texting you a location. Can you meet me there in, say, an hour?”

I choke back the giggle bubbling up, not wanting to appear too eager, though it’s hard. A mission is exactly what I need. “Sure.”

“Excellent. I’ll see you in an hour.”

Grinning, I look at the address that pings in, knowing it’s general location. I should be able to get there in less than half an hour, but another stop is along the way, and it’s one I’d been avoiding.

Nora.

But if I was about to get good news—someone needing me—then I could afford some bad energy, and Nora has that in spades right now.

I pull my keys out of my pocket and slip into the green Jeep I’ve had since I was a teen, the same one my uncle gave me, which was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Driving through the thick traffic, time ticks by, but not fast enough. I want it to speed up and slide into the past faster. I dare traffic to slow so I don’t have time to see Nora.

But I don’t know when Nora will be able to see me again. She’s dying and my time is valuable. I can’t just see her any day I want. Too much darkness, and it’s hard to pull out of that.

Besides, I could be helping this Victoria woman save the world.

That’s exactly the kind of story Nora needs to hear right now.

The hospital looms over me before I even realize I’m getting close. I somehow made it out of the car, through reception, down the hall, and to Door 308 without even realizing it, without knowing what I was doing.

I didn’t really need to be here. Nora would die whether or not I showed up.

But my Nora reminded me often that the future wasn’t the past, that the past wasn’t the future, and that the now wasn’t the only thing that mattered. My Nora needed light so she could make it to the end.

I could offer her that.

Closing my eyes with one hand on the door, I wished I could make this moment fly by faster. I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to face this. But I knew I had to. I’d hate myself if I didn’t.

Forcing a bright smile on my face, I pop through the door. “Surprise!”

Nora startles on the bed, her thin blue blanket sliding away from her thin and saggy frame. “Dannika.” A tired resignation flickers across her face and is replaced with a smile. “What are you doing here?”

Hurt tramples through my heart at Nora’s response, but I know she’s not mad at me. She’s tired of dying. “Can’t I see my favorite Nora?”

Her expression melts into genuine, if tired, joy as she works to sit up. “Of course. I just didn’t expect to see you. Not with this.” She gestured to the room. “And you just got out, and I know how much that meant to you. I figured there’d be a lot more other things to do. Like… anything.”

No one understands me like Nora. She raised me when she didn’t have to. She was my step-mom, the one who chose me. I wasn’t her chore. I wasn’t responsibility. I was her choice.

I walk to the bed and pull the sturdy wooden chair closer to the bed, the relief of being with Nora almost making the moment worth experiencing. “I have something lined up right now, actually. I’m on my way there.”

“Well,” Nora says, setting her hand on the bed palm up, “that’s great, Dan. I’m so glad.”

I ignore her hand, not wanting to touch death. “You’ll be excited to know I’m saving the world.”

Nora’s eyes lit up as she closed them momentarily. “Speaking in the present tense. That’s good. That’s real good, Dan.”

Nora is the only person in the entire world who knows how to hear when things are bad or when they’re good. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do without her.

She looks thin, pale, and almost transparent, as if she’s disappearing from the world, melting away into memories and air before my eyes.

“Do something for me,” she says quietly.

She only says that when it’s something I don’t want to do, but I know better than to say no because it’s always something important.

“Be your own villain for once.”

What? That didn’t even make sense. I’d wanted her to demand I live my life to the fullest. Jump out of a plane. Marry a ton of people and divorce them all, leaving a trail of broken hearts behind me as I lived my best life. But to be my own villain? “I don’t understand.”

Nora leans back on her pillow, her eyes shutting. “The war is on us.”

She hadn’t opened her eyes to say that. She looks…defeated. “Nora, I need—”

“You need a villain,” Nora says, opening her tired eyes and barely moving them in my direction. “The only way you grow or change is if you have a villain to rise against. I can’t be that for you anymore. I need to matter in my own life for however long I have now. I need to see value in who I am right now because, Dannika…” Her small tongue darts out to wet her dry lips as she heaves a heavy breath. “I’m fighting my own war here and I’m not winning.”

A heavy weight settles on my chest. Never have I ever seen her admit defeat.

The moment grows longer, slower, more pronounced.

Nora’s pale hair brightens in the sharp light on the pale blue wall above her bed. The beep of her heart pulses slower as if enunciating the determined trudge toward the end.

I take the hand Nora had set on the bed, refusing to slip into the moment, steadfastly refusing to experience this in its fullest because this isn’t the space I want to be in. “You can’t go.”

“I can’t leave you, you mean.”

Exactly. “You—” What words could I offer? I had nothing. I didn’t know how to fight this. This wasn’t something Nora could just will herself through. This was cancer.

Nora squeezes my fingers. “Find a crusade and fight it. It’s out there. Trust me. There’s a war against us. They’re fighting us. There’s a crusade worth fighting for. It just won’t involve the military. You’ll have to create your own rules. Trust me. You’re good at it. Our biggest fights were me guiding you to create rules you could live by that wouldn’t destroy you in the end. You are amazing if you allow yourself to be.”

Deep down, I know that, but I also know I’m not worth the hype. I’d been kicked out of the military when they needed me the most because I’d made a choice my chain of command hadn’t approved. But I also, desperately, don’t want to be in this moment right now. It’s already happened. She’s already dead. I’m already gone.

Why am I still here? I need this moment to go faster.

Nora released a breath and the bed nearly enveloped her as everything speeds up. “You’ll see, my Dan-boo. You’ll see.”

I took the token of love and dismissal, gave Nora a final squeeze, and left the room, certain I would never see my Nora again, but ready to experience again, to feel again, to see and smell and feel… again.

With the wheel of her car in my hands, I released a shaky breath, fighting back tears I hadn’t realized were there.

This sucked. I was done dealing with hard moments. It was time to take control back of my life and live it the way I enjoyed.

In the present. In the moment. Experiencing each morsel as if the future hadn’t happened already and the past was trampling me into solitude.

Punching the address link in my phone and putting the car into gear, I drive off to face a future I can’t see, my heart resolving over the death of my Nora.

The life I was set to live would be filled with enjoyment, no matter the cost.

October Sky has breakfast with her favorite cousin only to discover there’s more missing kids, this time ones he knows. When she consults her tarot deck, she’s given a warning to reach out to someone who can help.

Meanwhile across town, Victoria is worried that her wife may not be as okay as she claims, but word of the war has her pulled in other directions.

Read previous chapters

The Kins City County Building looked like any other state or city official building I’d ever seen. It was concrete on concrete with some weird assed sculptures of gargoyle? I think. I wasn’t sure. They were weird and unremarkable at the same time.

I was a clerk, and I floated between court and deputy, which was odd, I know, but when staffing had shortages, desperate did what desperate needed to do, and I was good at this. I could keep things straight. I understood and followed the rules, and my instincts generally led me to do things the right way.

Really, my job was “interesting” in the sense that I got to read some pretty interesting stories. However, it was just paperwork and dealing with Yolanda Lawson who was my boss and someone who didn’t always appreciate the way I did things.

So, I avoided her most days.

I was good at it.

As I went through the file of a civil dispute to make sure everything was correct, a light flared inside me, my hand tugging toward my purse that was still strapped across my body. It wasn’t that I thought anyone would steel my wallet. It was more the fact that my tarot cards were in that purse and I didn’t want to lose them.

Glancing around, I made sure that the three people on the floor were otherwise busy. Mitchell was talking to Maureen, and while they were on the other end of the row of desks from me, they were within line of sight. While reading tarot wasn’t against the law because it was seen as a game, playing games was against the rules.

So, I just kept working on filing.

Lemon vs the County, where Jill Lemon filed a small claims case about water quality. The forms were in order, and I almost closed it, but I stopped. This was the third case about the water I’d seen? Was it the third?

Well, yes. That I’d seen.

Reading through, she claimed that the water was discoloring her bathroom fixtures and that her dog had gotten sick. When she had it tested, there were high traces of minerals and chemicals that shouldn’t be in there. Jill Lemon claimed that the county knew about it and was doing nothing.

Glancing at my coworkers to make sure they were still talking—which they were—I opened the database and searched for other water-related cases.

There were eleven.

I pulled their case numbers and then went through their files. As I read, I searched for other things that weren’t directly water related because I was starting to see a pattern, though, I didn’t know what it was.

My cards kept tugging at my gut.

I kept ignoring them. Mitchell had gone back to his seat, finally, mostly because Yolanda had ambled her large body down the aisle and glared meaningfully at him before continuing her walk out the door. By the time she made it back with her lunch in hand, everyone was back at their computers working.

I was interesting in the information.

There were fourteen wrongful illness claims spread over the past six months and focused mainly from Sturwood, though, there were two from Littleton. There were four tort claims for property damage, claiming that the water was eating away at equipment. There was one wrongful death, a woman who claimed her daughter got cancer from the water. Two breaches of contract that led to the water treatment facility, but I wasn’t quite sure what the connection was. And one environmental complaint against the water treatment center. Maybe that was the reason I thought the breach of contracts had relevance? I didn’t quite understand.

The tug in my belly was hard to ignore as the afternoon wore on, so I glanced around. Seeing no one, I set up a binder to hide my hands and pulled my deck out of my purse.

I shuffled them silently, focusing on that pull on my belly, inviting Spirit or the gods or whoever to share their message.

The card I pulled was Empty Well, which was interesting since I was looking into water. This deck had two cards that dealt with water at all, so it made sense that it would have me pull one of them here. Which meant that the message was about the water.

That was good. Okay. I could work with that.

Usually when I pulled this card, it meant that someone was tapped out, energy-wise, or that they’d made themselves small for the sake of others.

This didn’t feel like the same meaning to me. The message in the card was different this time. The well was dry. Follow the water which run deep under the earth.

Follow the water.

Follow… the water.

Why?

I pulled another card and Will-o’-the-Wisp appeared, reminding me of the hidden mysteries buried inside.

Of me. They were hidden mysteries buried inside of me and irritation flared—again—because this card kept popping up in all of my readings, no matter who I was reading. My deck was trying to tell me—

What? That I could read cards without the deck? Who did that? Witches. That’s who. And guess what happened to witches here?

I didn’t actually know because no one talked about it. Not with the war going on. Yes. The war was somewhere else right now, but sometimes, things were still scary here.

I heard Yolanda’s shoes squeaking as she moved, so I stashed my cards, shoving them inside my purse and then reading the page I could see in the binder I’d used to hide my hands, then glared at the form in front of me as if I was working.

She made grunting noise as she continued to walk by.

Releasing a pent up breath, I moved to put the binder away, but my hands went back to my purse and instead of grabbing all the cards, my fingers pulled one. Out of the middle of the loose deck because I’d put them away badly.

The Dream Thief. Again. The little monkey face stared at me, but this time, he wore a familiar face; Mayor Walton.

I knew this one had a different meaning this time, too. There was no coincidence that the monkey wore the mayor’s face, so instead of warning me of the seductive convenience of comfort and relative safety, I understood it to mean something a little different. A person of power was manipulating the system to make us feel comfortable because when we were, our guards were down.

Putting the card away, I stashed the binder, finished up the original water claim, and got up. I didn’t want to talk to Mayor Walton. I didn’t think he’d listen to me or make time for me. But Victoria Armstrong? His chief of staff? She felt approachable and high enough to be able to do something.

So, I went to the elevator and took it up to the fourth floor where the mayor’s support staff was. This floor was… well, grander, I guess, than the clerk’s level which was clean and kind of utilitarian. Here, bright wood paneling reflected the overhead chandeliers. The reception desk was also made of wood and all the signs were embossed metal that stood out from the walls.

It just felt like I was in the wrong place.

But I went to the front desk and told the gal there I was with the clerk’s office and that I needed to talk to the chief of staff. She pointed me to the right and I walked down the wide hall that emptied into a wide room of busy desks.

We couldn’t get help. We had four people doing the work of twelve and the mayor got a full staff? How was that fair?

I stopped at a smaller version of the front desk and waited until a short woman with dark hair pulled into a bun, her glasses perched on her perky nose with a gold chain attached them and draped around her neck walked up to me a tight smile. “How can I help you?” she asked.

Now that I was here, I had no idea what had come over me. Being here was stupid. I was stupid. This was dumb and such a terrible— “I need to talk to the chief of staff. I have some information she might find useful.”

The woman nodded politely and stepped behind her desk. “What would you like to talk to her about?”

“The water.”

With an eyeroll and a frown, the woman’s hands stopped. “Do you have more information?”

“I do.” Not. I did not, but I saw a pattern.

The woman nodded as if hearing my internal dialogue override the words I’d said out loud. “Come back when you have actual information.”

“Actual—”

“Proof,” the woman said, giving me an expectant look like she was chiding a child.

“I’m from the clerk’s office.”

“And she’s read the reports.”

And that was it? “What about the missing kids?” I asked, remembering my promise to Mateo. I mean, I had promised and it was something I could do. It just probably wasn’t going to go anywhere.

“What missing kids?” the woman asked, her expression grim.

As if I actually had her attention. Okay. I dug out my cousin’s note and handed it to her. “These kids.”

The woman opened it and looked. “What do you want us to do with this? I can barely read these names.”

“Well, they were written by a ten-year-old.” I took the note back, but the names were perfectly legible. Mostly. “I can re-write it.”

The woman clamped her lips together, then shook her head and took the note back. “We’ll take a look at it.”

“They’re all kids from school,” I said, “and they’ve all disappeared.”

“That’s highly unlikely,” a smooth male voice said from behind me.

I felt all the blood leave my body as I turned to look Mayor Walton in his bright blue eyes. “Mr. Mayor.”

“Do you know any of these kids?” he asked with a pleasant-enough-smile.

“I know someone who does.” I glanced at Victoria Armstrong, the tall woman beside him in her yellow dress suit. She looked confident and able to take on the world from her place two steps behind Mayor Walton.

“We’ll look into it,” he promised as he turned to walk away.

My gut lurched and a pulsing yellow light flared behind his right ear like the gold of the Dream Thief’s earring. “Are you just saying that so people trust you?”

He stopped and turned back to me, surprised. “What did you say?”

I didn’t know. What had I said? Why was I speaking? What was I speaking. “Are you just saying enough to make everyone comfortable while you trick them?” Why was I still speaking? “Sir.”

A chill expression crossed over his face and he glanced at Victoria. “Make sure she’s taken care of.”

Victoria narrowed her gaze and then gestured for the door. “Step into my office.”

That was exactly what I’d asked for, but why did it suddenly feel like I was a mouse stepping into the mouth of a crocodile?

* * *

Victoria hadn’t seen Wendell Walton react like that in a long time, so she was intrigued to hear what this slight woman had to say. She took the folded note her assistant offered her and walked into her office, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Taking a seat, she crossed one leg over her knee and studied the note. There were twelve names on this list. They didn’t all have surnames. At least one of them was a nickname. She doubted anyone would knowingly name their child Nacho. “What is this?”

The woman fidgeted where she stood, clutching at the strap of the brown purse she had draped across her body. “Kids who disappeared last night.”

“And you know this how?”

“My cousin goes to school with them?”

“Is that a question?”

“Uh, no. Uh, he is a kid and he does go to, uh, school, and they did disappear.”

“And he knows this. He called them.”

“Well, I mean—yes. No. Yes? I mean, I don’t know.” She looked around as if she was just now thinking this through. “I had breakfast with him this morning. And he had the list.”

“Which means,” Victoria said as a chill settled over her chest forcing her to school her expression to show just a tiny bit of concern but not too much, “that they probably disappeared the night before.”

“Yeah. Um, that would make sense.”

Victoria set the note on the desk and leaned back in her chair. “Would you sit?”

The other woman chuckled, stopped, bit her lip and then lurched in way into the chair as if she was a mouse snapped into a trap. She swallowed.

“Why are you so nervous?”

The woman shook her head. “Nervous? I’m not—I—” She stopped talking.

Victoria let her, giving her the time she needed to collect herself.

“I’m used to being invisible,” the woman said, finally. “And I’m good with that and it works good for me.”

It was hard to imagine this woman being invisible. She was pretty with full brown hair and high cheekbones and a flattering body. The woman should turn heads, not fade into the walls. But personality made a bit difference. This woman dressed to blend in, wearing all black except for a beige shirt under her grey cardigan. Nothing about her said “notice me.”

“Okay.” Victoria could work with that. “What’s your name?”

“My—my name? Oh, yeah. Right. Yes. Well, I’m October Sky Martinez Blaze.”

“What do I call you?”

“Oc—Sky.” She smiled and looked down. “Sky.”

“Are you sure?”

The woman frowned and nodded. “Yup. Sky… Marinez.”

Victoria didn’t understand what was going on with the name, but she also didn’t care. “I will have people look into the names. Have they filed missing person reports?”

Sky shook her head, looking up. “I don’t know, but probably not. The police don’t care about… these people.”

“Ah.” These people had to be paras. “All of them?”

“I think so,” she said in a soft voice. “I don’t know.”

“Are you?”

“Para?” Sky flashed a smile and then slumped forward. “No.” She cleared her throat and tried that again with a lower pitch. “No. I’m just a clerk.”

“Just a clerk. Why are you on my floor?”

Sky’s brown eyes latched onto Victoria’s and her mouth opened to speak, but no words came out.

Sighing, Victoria kicked off her shoes and padded barefoot to the small fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. Offering it to Sky on her way by, she sat in the chair beside the woman, relaxing her stance, lettering herself appear more human. It wasn’t often that this was the best approach. She didn’t get to work with real people, usually men in power. Sometimes women, but mostly men who saw emotions on a woman as weakness.

It felt nice to relax and be a person. “I’ve got a lot of names of kids who have been disappearing. I didn’t know they were paras, but I suspected.”

Sky put the lid back on the water bottle and leaned forward. “What are you doing?”

“I’ve got people looking into it. But so far, we haven’t found much.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, Sky.” And that was the irritating thing. She should know something by now. There were just so many names, but like this list, they weren’t complete. “No one wants to share information.”

“They’re scared.” Sky settled into her chair with an air of defeat as she stared out the window behind Victoria.

“They are. But if there was someone who could talk to them, get them to share more information…” She let the thought drift off.

Sky frowned and took in a breath. “I’ll try, but I actually wanted to talk to you about something else.”

“Okay.”

“The water?”

There were several water cases in the civil court, so Victoria was aware of some of them. They were enough to get her attention, though they’d all been dismissed. “What about it?”

“I’m seeing a pattern, but I don’t know what it means? I only know that we need to dig deeper.”

“Are you volunteering?”

Sky shook her head with a scoff. “No. No. I’m a clerk. I can read files.” She frowned and then closed her eyes, reaching into her purse and pulling out a card.

A tarot card. A familiarity smoothed the sharp edges of Victoria’s nervous system as the card disappeared again. Her momma had used tarot cards to help guide their future and they hadn’t been wrong.

“I’ll try to look more. Yes.” Sky nodded, zipping her purse closed and then gripping it tightly. “But, um, you, uh, need to be careful? There’s—” She shook her head. “Someone is going to offer you something soon you really want. Don’t take it.”

Victoria nodded. That could be anyone, but she had a feeling she already knew who. Wendell was going to tell her he was running for Senate and she hoped he’d give her his endorsement for mayor. But this woman an incite that few others had.

And she needed an upper hand. She needed… something.

“I need you to come clerk for me.”

Sky’s eyes widened. “What?”

“If you’re clerking for me, no one will ask questions on why you’re looking to things.”

Taking the lid off the bottle, Sky chugged the remainder of the water before twisting the lid back on. “Sure. Yup. Sure—yup. Yeah. This is going to be great.”

It might be exactly what Victoria had been looking for, but she just hoped that October Sky Martinez Blaze had enough backbone to actually help because even with the might of her own steel will, there was only so far they could go.

And their city desperately needed help.

Read the Next Chapter

This is the first chapter! I’m saving this space for the next one.

Read previous chapters

I knew we were at war, but it was seriously hard to feel that here. Everything was normal. Well, the price of gas was astronomical. And most of us couldn’t afford to go out to eat anymore, so some of our favorite restaurants were closing down one by one.

But I was going to make a difference.

I clipped my helmet on my head and hopped on my bike, the warm sun wrapping around me like a soothing hug that didn’t trick me into believing it was going to stay that way. Kins City sat on the banks of Lake Michigan, so spring was like a teenager who wanted to be eight and twenty-eight in the same hour.

I dodged a shiny black sedan and shot across the street to the bike lane.

Which was still not quite safe because drivers were still so angry that the bike lane existed. Like that was a terrible thing. Saving the earth should never inconvenience anyone. That was the greatest danger to the world. Inconvenience.

“October,” a male voice shouted to me as I approached our local grocery store.

I slowed and smiled at him. “Hey, Johnny.”

He disappeared through the glass door of his shop.

I stopped my bike, but stayed on, digging into my purse that was slung across my body to dig out money. He always saved me apples, which were incredibly hard to come by anymore. Were there apple orchards near us? Yes. There were a lot of them. The Great Lakes area was fantastic for apples.

But the government has seized most of them for war efforts and to boost the economy.

Yeah, I guess the world needed our apples more than we did as we were losing the oil race? I don’t know. It didn’t make a lot of sense.

Johnny came out with a crinkled smile on his older Asian face. “I saved it for you.”

“Thank you.” I handed him more money than I should have for an apple, and stashed my treasure in my purse. “I’ll be by later for groceries.”

“Your pickles are not in yet,” he said, shaking his head.

“Then, I’ll get other things. Thanks again!”

The local stores really invested in the people who lived in their neighborhoods. That was the thing I loved the most about the war. I mean, war is bad. I’m never going to say it’s not. But it was nice that people stopped focusing on sales and more about what we wanted. Johnny knew my favorite pickles, my favorite ice cream, and the only macaroni and cheese I’d eat, even though he told me repeatedly that he would show me how to make the “real” stuff if I just came to his house.

Where he would also invite his son.

Yeah. I just wasn’t interested in settling down with… anyone.

I continued through the busy city, dodging car doors and dogs and people as the noise of people living their lives rolled around me. I found the wind just as I was crossing Bay Street, which went straight to the lake and those winds ripped through the city like a blade promising winter even though it was clearly spring.

I slowed and parked my bike, locking it to the rack, tucking my helmet under my arm. The last time I’d left it on my bike, someone had taken it.

Lame.

A young boy with dark hair sat at a booth by the window, his back to me. He hadn’t taken off his blue blazer yet, which didn’t surprise me.

“Mateo,” I called as I got closer.

He twisted around and beamed a quick grin at me. “Tia O.”

I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and gave him an awkward squeeze. I was too tall and he was too short as he sat, but I didn’t care. “How’s my favorite cousin?”

“I aced the roller coaster.”

One of his projects in science was to design and build a roller coaster using popsicle sticks and paper. We’d spent hours—days—working on that thing together. “How long did it take?” For the marble to make it from the drop to the end.

“Sixty-seven point eight seconds.”

Which meant the marble had gotten stuck at turn eight, which was something we’d worked on for hours. It meant that he’d almost lost. But whatever.

Melissa came over with a smile and two glasses of water, her spatula earrings dancing on her ears. “We’re out of ice today.”

“But do you have pancakes?” I asked.

“Of course.” She pulled out her order pad. “Same thing?”

I frown-smiled at her. “Of course.”

“You got it.” She turned and left.

“I love your earrings,” I called after her.

“Thanks! My sister made them.”

Her sister made all of Melissa’s earrings. I turned to Mateo and stashed my helmet and purse beside me before working to remove my jacket. “What’s the latest news?”

“You mean besides me getting the top time on the roller coaster?”

“Yeah. Did it help you with your application?” To some school that was for kids excelling in hands-on stuff but sometimes struggled with things like reading or math.

“Yeah.” His expression widened as he pulled out his phone. “I took this video and I’m attaching it. Mr. Radcliff says it’s a sure thing.”

“Nothing is a sure thing,” I said, as I watched the marble move through the rather impressive roller coaster. Though, I’d seen other marbles do the same thing hundreds of times because it had taken that long to make this work. “Oh! It got stuck right there!” On turn eight like I said.

“But! Look, it shot—yup, there. See? Just had to give it a drop.”

“And it got the speed.”

“To get through turn ten. Ten—there. There. See?”

“What is this?” Melissa asked, dropping down to watch the video with us.

“The roller coaster.” Mateo and I had spent a lot of time in this diner talking about it, so Melissa had been involved.

We spent the next few seconds watching the video—twice—and then talking about how great it was that a marble rolled down paper held up by popsicle sticks. It wasn’t riveting conversation, but it filled my heart with joy.

I didn’t have a lot of good memories growing up, but I wanted him to have some. I’d never be close to either side of my family—something they were all happy about and it didn’t make any sense to me. But I was too old to still care.

Mateo’s dad and I had grown up in the same house. Well, at least my high school years. He’d gone into construction, following his dad, and had died in a tragic accident. A hit and run. We suspected the driver had been drunk.

That left Mateo to be raised by the same people who’d taken me in, and Uncle Dan had asked me to be involved. I wasn’t a mom and didn’t want to be. But a cool aunt? Sure, I could be the cool aunt.

Also, it helped that they were the only family members who wanted anything to do with me.

The bell dinged and Melissa left with a smile to get our food.

Mateo put his phone away, his smile sliding away into something more serious. “More kids from my class are missing.”

This was becoming a regular thing. “Who?”

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded note. “Can you help us?”

“Not us, Matty.”

He shrugged and shook his head. “How not us? They’re kids I know. I just punched Evan in the face yesterday and now he’s gone.”

“Wait. Why’d you punch him in the face?”

“Because—” Mateo got uncomfortable and straightened, then slouched as he leaned in. “He was wolfing out.”

I leaned in and dropped my voice. “So you punched him?”

“Shock and pain help him stay not-wolfed.”

That—okay. That made sense. I put the note in my pocket. I worked in the office of Mayor Walton. I’d see if I could schedule a visit with Victoria Armstrong who was his right-hand and see if maybe she could help. “I’ll look into it.”

“Okay.” He scooted out of the booth as Melissa took food not to our table but to another one. “I’ll be right back.”

I nodded. That kid could take the bus around town on his own. He could handle the bathroom. I didn’t question if being this self sufficient at ten was appropriate. It was necessary and that’s all that mattered.

But since I had a moment, I took out my tarot cards and shuffled them, glancing around the room. Using tarot wasn’t considered a para gift, so it wasn’t illegal or wrong. It was just a fun game.

I’d let everyone else think that.

I needed to know if there was something that was going to endanger my cousin.

I pulled out Deep Quiet, which was an invitation to step outside of the noise and to hear what was whispering.

So, something was going on. I pulled another card, and The Dream Thief came out. A chill ran through me as I stared at the little monkey face. The pull of comfort and safety was seducing me into complacency. If one these had talked to me, it wouldn’t have mattered.

But both of them?

I needed to do something. But what?

Well, I’d make an appointment with Victoria Armstrong and just… see what she had to say.

* * *

Rosa’s voice filtered through the partially open bathroom door, making Victoria smile at her reflection. She loved it when her wife sang while making breakfast. It felt like everything was right in the world and nothing could disturb them.

Even though Victoria knew that was a lie.

Continuing to let Rosa’s soft voice settle over her nerves, Victoria finished her hair and makeup. She paid particular attention to her looks because she was a book people judged. She was a Black woman who was standing up in a place she wasn’t wanted but was desperately needed, and she wasn’t backing down.

Her clothes were her armor. She’d gained good money as a lawyer and now that she was into politics, she’d been advised to wear a more neutral palette to blend in. She wasn’t interested in blending in with the conservatives she served with as they worked to dismantle decade of hard work right out from under her.

Her makeup perfectly accenting her eyes so that each micro expression gained more power, and her hair let loose in controlled waves, she walked to the closet, Rosa changing songs to something with a bit more beat.

Which color was she wearing today? Victoria could go with her yellow Sergio Hudson suit. It was one of her favorites. Her Christopher John Rogers fuchsia dress called to her. Or her Caroline Herrera floral dress suit would be a good choice.

In the end, she chose optimism, going for the yellow suit. Sergio rarely steered her wrong.

Leaving the dress jacket off, she padded barefoot from the large walk-in closet, through their comfortable bedroom that was already remade, and into their spacious living room. They didn’t need much in the way of furniture. Rosa preferred to read and the light coming in through the large windows all around them made that activity easy.

Victoria stopped to admire the view from their penthouse in Kins City. This was a long way from the streets she’d grown up in. She wasn’t going back, but she also wasn’t going to forget where she came from.

Rosa, the woman of her heart, plated two large pancakes and stuck the pan in the stainless steel sink. She hated a messy kitchen. You could hardly tell she was cooking with the level of mess. Everything she’d used was already cleaned, dried, and put away.

Victoria walked up behind her wife and wrapped her arms around Rosa’s wide waist, pressing a kiss into her neck. “Morning, baby.”

Rosa purred softly, nuzzling Victoria’s face and then broke the embrace, grabbing two plates and walking toward the small dining table next to the glass patio door. “Grab the coffee?”

Grabbing the two cups, Victoria took a careful sip of her black Americano and kept her nose far from the disturbing mushroom concoction Rosa called coffee. It was not.

Rosa moved slower this morning, causing Victoria to slow her steps.

“Are you okay, baby?”

Smiling, Rosa nodded. “I’m feeling a little under the weather. I’ve made an appointment with the doctor.”

It was probably nothing. They were both middle aged, but very healthy. Rosa was a little “overweight,” the doctors said, but they made sure to eat the right foods and they went for walks in the park. Among other physical activities.

“I had to turn off the news,” Rosa said, pouring syrup onto her pancakes. “It’s just news of the horrors coming out of the west.”

Anger chewed through Victoria. The conservatives now owned all the news sources, so the real news wasn’t being told. Only a slanted view of possibly real situations were.

“I’m scared, Vee,” Rosa said quietly, her shoulders slumped. “What if we lose?”

What did lose mean? They were safe. They weren’t para. They would be fine no matter who won or lost.

But the part of her who chose her garmets like armor knew that wasn’t true. She was Black. Rosa was Latina, and they were both gay and married. It wouldn’t take long if the conservative government regained control of all fifty states before newly won rights would disappear. Women’s rights. Gay rights. Voting rights. Racial rights. While she was glad that they were fighting over paras instead of the atrocity that was her body, she knew the fight—her fight—was still there, waiting just underneath.

“You have nothing to be scared of.”

Rosa narrowed her eyes and closed her lips.

Which was odd. Normally, Rosa would have pushed back. She was a fighter. She didn’t like platitude or well wishes or good tries. She wanted action. “Are you sure you’re all right to go to the doctor on your own?”

“I’ll be fine. You have a lot on your plate today. Don’t worry about me.”

She did, though Victoria never once thought it was more important than the woman she loved. She worked in the mayor’s office, supporting Mayor Walton, a conservative male whom she didn’t always agree with.

But she wasn’t going to be his assistant for long. Soon, she’d run for mayor herself. Or maybe something bigger. Governor. Senator? House representative?

President?

No. She couldn’t imagine the people voting for a Black woman when they couldn’t even support a white one. But the others? She could make a real difference there.

And that was what she was going to do.

Make this world better for herself, her wife, and anyone else like them. Or different. She didn’t care. That was the thing she could do.

Read the Next Chapter