Chapter 3

WES EVERGREEN

Black and red dots exploded to life in strange shapes behind my eyelids from the pressure of my palm pressed into them. Pain drove into the right side of my head. The only thing that kept me awake at that moment. And from losing my shit. It kept the memories at bay long enough to let me sit at my best friend’s bedside. The pain distracted me from the memories that the bleached stained hallways and beeping noises I’d grown to hate of hospitals. I’d spent my fair share there and thought it was done.

But Khloe. My best friend was lying in a hospital bed. Unconscious for four days now. No reasons given. That mattered more than any memory.

And it was my fault. I failed her. The one job I’d have, I’d done wrong. Every second she didn’t wake up, only made that fact more and more clear. The fact she already hated me was bad enough, but right now I didn’t blame her. Hell, I’d hate myself if I was her. Hell, I didn’t blame her for hating before the fight. I hadn’t exactly been best friend material lately. Or in a long while for that matter.

I wasn’t sure when they began, the secrets. The dreams. How could I explain to Khloe that I knew. I knew this was going to happen, I knew the attack was going to happen. I knew so much was going to happen, and I could never stop it. No matter what I did, whatever I dreamt always happened and it always involved Khloe. How did that make sense? How was that not something to be afraid of? Especially when I knew the outcome: a death sentence. A burned stake. The same outcome that every witch received. But I wasn’t a witch. No one in my family had ever been witches and no one in my family had magic. This was something else. It had to be. But what? I couldn’t tell anyone until I found the truth. That included Khloe.

I remembered the night I woke up, not in my own bedroom but in hers, in Khloe’s. I remembered the sense of panic as I hovered inches off the ground, frozen in place. I couldn’t fight or struggle. I didn’t want to. Fighting whatever was holding me down was the last thing on my mind. More prominent was knowing that my Khloe was in trouble. I worried, watching helplessly in the glow of moonlight as she crawled through her open window like she had done it a hundred times. Something she wasn’t supposed to do. Not with the curfew in place. Anyone caught out after dark was charged like a witch, whether they were or not. No one with good common sense was out after sun down.

One of the straps of her black tank top was partly broken and there was a large gash trickling blood down her shoulder blade. I watched in horror as she limped into her bathroom and began to dress the wound with a strange solution I’d never seen before that smelled of Lavender. As soon as the scent of the solution wafted over me I was snapped back into my bedroom, into my bed.

That was the first time it happened. After that, they started coming rapidly. One a week at first and then at least once every few days, to once a day. That is how I found her Monday night. One of the vision-things. I saw her walking down 5th Avenue North and then in a split second later, I saw her in the alley. Dead. My best friend blood spattered and lifeless. Whatever she’d been doing didn’t matter. I had to save her. Warn her.

But here we were. Me being alive and her hooked to a hospital bed. She was alive, but I’d still failed her. So I sat here, by her beside. Waiting for her to wake up. Hoping she would.

“You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

I froze. Was I hallucinating? Slowly, I peeked one eye open to see a set of blue eyes watching me warily. She’d been asleep for four days, but she looked exhausted.

“So do you.” I grin back, resisting the urge to reach out and grab her hand. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a truck.” She coughed slightly. “What happened?”

I chuckled, at least she still had her humor. “You got hit by a truck.”

She looked at me for a moment and then burst into a laughter that quickly turned into a groan. “Oh, don’t make me laugh.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, palming my cheek as I watch her. “What do you remember?”

“Um, a fight,” Khloe looked like she was struggling to remember. “Did we fight something`? Did something happen to the Drone?””

I nod. “That was Monday night.”

“Monday night? What night is it now?”

“Thursday. Morning”

““Thursday.” Khloe eyes go wide with disbelief. “What happened?”

“We aren’t sure.” I frowned at that. “Leonna and Luis seem to think it was some kind of poison. Maybe from one of the witches. They can’t find any trace of it though. Leonna seems to think that your system was strong enough to fight it on its own without the counter-remedy, but the doctors have been transfusing fresh Concardi Serum through your system to counter-act the poison, just in case.”

“Was I the only one? Was anyone else hurt?” I smiled. Classic Khloe. Always putting others first, but then her face changed, the look of something I couldn’t place.

Khloe, you shouldn’t worry about anyone else right now.”

She doesn’t listen, “Baulder?” She demanded; her eyes widened with concern. I froze at her question, looking at the door. She didn’t need to hear this from me.

Khloe, please relax.” I begged.

“How’s Baulder doing?” She ignored me. I paused again with uncertainty, but there was no way I could lie to her. It was beyond me.

“I’m so sorry Khloe.” I swallowed thickly, waiting for the tears. Waiting for her grief. I didn’t know how to handle that. Words had never been my thing, Khloe was the talkative one, but I’d do my best. For her.

Instead, her face turned dark. Something like anger crossed her face. “Sorry? What are you sorry for? You weren’t his partner. You didn’t have dinner nights with his family. You didn’t bake cookies with his wife for Jais festivals. You didn’t babysit his kids while he and his wife went on date nights. You barely knew him. You barely spoke to him. So what the hell are you sorry for, Wes? You didn’t lose anything. You never lose anything.”

I stared at her. Shocked by the burst of anger. What was worse though, is that everything is correct. Mostly. I didn’t know him. And obviously, I didn’t know her anymore. My best friend really had changed, and she wasn’t letting me in. Something burned inside of me. Not anger, but something that felt similar and familiar.

“You’re right Chloe. You’re absolutely right.” I said. I stood up and made for the door before either of us could speak again.

Before I could leave, there was a sharp tap. A second later, Scotty Bevins stepped through the door. He looked between me and Khloe for a moment.

“Am I interrupting?”

I shook my head. “No, I was just going to find her parents.” I snapped a little harder than I meant to and pushed past him to the door.

As I left, I heard him make a crack about relationship trouble. I resist the urge to turn around and punch him.

It took only a moment to find Governor Giles in the waiting room, alone. His wife and two other daughters had been sent home to rest. We’d taken turns sitting with Khloe while she was asleep.

“She’s awake. Scotty is in with her right now.” I told him, quickly.

He looked up at me and gave me a knowing smile. “I take it she wasn’t thrilled to be in a hospital.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think she was thrilled I was in the hospital.”

He nodded in understand. “I know you two have been going through some things lately.”

I didn’t respond. What could I tell him that wouldn’t get me in trouble?

He stood up and padded my shoulder. “I’m sure it will work itself out. These things always do, son.

“I hope so,” I said honestly. But I doubt it.

“I guess you’re going to head into the Inquisition Office now.” Governor Giles said with a knowing look that I didn’t understand.

I frown at him. “What for?”

He blinked at me. “I thought you heard the news. They captured the witch who killed Baulder and wounded Khloe. Your dad texted me the news this morning. They are holding her for questioning now.”

I blinked. That didn’t make sense. Things happened so fast Monday night, how could they possibly know which witch was responsible.

“I didn’t know.” I shook my head, but now that I did know, Governor Giles was right. The Inquisition office was my next stop.