We quickly find out if the moves are effective or not, and this morning is no exception. In a swift Kung Fu motion, Tatiana flips Tanya on her back, leaving her wheezing for breath. I wince, almost feeling the pain myself.
Tatiana spots me in the doorway, and in a heartbeat, issues my chores for the day. “Talia, you need to go to the markets and get bread. Tanya, go to the castle headquarters and pay our way.”
We don’t argue, we never do. She seems to know all but in a good way. She has kept us alive and protected us for as long I can remember, and we respect her position in the family. She hands me some currency, enough red tokens to buy the basics. We are far from wealthy. We rarely ever possess orange tokens, which could be splurged by stocking our cupboards for days, and we certainly never hold any green tokens in our hands, which would identify us as the wealthy elite.
Kissing my sisters on the cheek, Tatiana stops me with a hand on my shoulder. “Straight there, straight home.” Her eyes shine bright like they always do when she worries. She has every right to be concerned. Tensions are high over a mysterious vanishing of a teenage witch. No one has seen her. No one has heard from her. It’s a mystery that has rattled the ward and has us all on edge. We never know if we are fully safe despite the angels’ rule.
“Here,” she declares, handing me a small, black bag containing weapons. It’s against the Cardia law to carry weapons, and I’d face serious consequences if I am caught, but I don’t have a choice.
“I’ll be fine. I’ll see you soon.” I smile reassuringly while buttoning my black coat.
I set out on foot and navigate through our ward. The market’s set in the middle, in a quadrant framed by the wards. If you don’t possess the power to fly, you walk. Although witches certainly have the power, it’s a mutual understanding that we remain low-key, thus blending in with the others. Hostilities are rife, and Tatiana’s adamant we never draw attention to ourselves.
When I enter the quadrant, it’s super busy with shoppers. And when I spot the line of those wanting to buy bread, I decide to look around until it ebbs. Three stalls along, I see a hat, colorful in bright pink. I’m drawn immediately and pick it from the rack to study it closer. Instantly, I tense, my personal space being invaded. Then I hear a noise.
Someone is smelling me, inhaling deeply as they travel the length of my neck. Unsettling chills break out along my skin, and I turn, lifting my shoulder for protection, only to see the vampire recoil. This isn’t the first time it has happened in my life. For some unforetold reason, vampires are both repulsed and uniquely curious over my scent.
He snatches the hat from my hands, looking at me with a snarl. “You can’t afford that.”
“I’m only looking,” I defend myself.
“You’re a witch, aren’t you?” He squints as if assessing me. “You’re not like your sisters.”
I ignore him.
The vamps have us all picked. In the event the humans revolt, the bloodsuckers will turn to us. As a result of this impending doom, they have practically marked us for their taking, knowing our scents and picking their favorites.
“Excuse me.” I make to leave, but he blocks me. Instead of meeting his red irises, I look at his shoulder with my jaw clenched.
The vampire inhales me again, deeply, drawing me in until finally he exhales. With a deep voice he rumbles, “What are you?”
At that point, I’m left with little choice. I push past his cold, hard body and stumble back onto the path. I can feel his eyes burning into me as I quickly sink into a crowd of people, willing myself to blend in again with the masses.
When I come to a stop in the bread line, I’m trembling. The encounter was like so many I’ve had before, each one leaving me more on edge and uneasy for what’s to come.
I distract myself by watching others. In front of me is a large man, both tall and wide. He is all mass with a thick head of hair, and his impatience is evident with the continual cracking of his knuckles. In front of him is one of the witches who lives a few blocks away. She is wealthy and doesn’t hide it well. She stands clutching her bag tightly to her chest as if she fears being robbed.
My shoulders finally relax some, then I’m suddenly jolted forward with a haphazard push in the back. I lose my footing and fall against the tall, burly man’s back. He is quick to turn his bright yellow eyes behind him, scolding me. A werewolf. He glances at whoever is behind me and his yellow eyes fade back to brown in an instant. The hairs on my neck stand on end, and I’m suddenly terrified to turn around. Whoever it is that can rattle the shifter is no friend of mine.