Chapter 5: Unfamiliar Territory

**Kait**

The night grows steadily quiet, the sound of rain dissipating as the moon appears in the night sky. I feel a shiver as I walk home, still reeling over what had just happened.

Jake and I were actually making out. He’s the first guy in a REALLY long time I’ve gotten so close to. Honestly, I still don’t know how to feel about it. I felt like the night was going well until he received that phone call and high-tailed it out of there.

My stomach knots with worry when I think of his stunned face and how he ran out of the bar, not even pausing to say goodbye. While I realize he must have left for some emergency, part of me can’t help but think I was the reason he left so abruptly.

I can still feel his hands running up and down my body. The thrill of us being together in such a (more or less) public place was something to be reckoned with.

D*mn, I think. First cute guy I meet in months, and he’s already running for the hills. I shrug my shoulders. Oh, well. Knowing my luck, it was bound to happen eventually.

I reach my apartment building and key in the code on the lobby doors. Fred is working tonight behind the counter, his usual bored-as-hell look plastered on.

I give him a wave, and he nods in my direction while I punch the up button on the elevator. It arrives with a pleasant “ding,” and I step in, taking in the aroma of bodily fluids. It's good to be home.

The elevator stops at the thirteenth floor. I know, bad luck and all, but I don’t really care. My luck usually turns sour eventually, anyway. Might as well get it over with now.

I can already smell the incense before I reach the apartment I share with one other person. Her name is Marcey, and she is, according to her, an honest-to-God witch.

When she first told me about this, I laughed. I mean, who wouldn’t? But then, I thought about the recurring visions I have every night and the strange “feelings” I get from time to time that usually turn out to be true.

If all of that is real, then why wouldn’t witches be a thing too?

I open the door and am greeted by a blast of sage that instantly sends me into a coughing fit.

“Geez!” I cry, shutting the door while my lungs rack themselves. “Can’t you open a window when you burn that stuff?”

Marcey, piddling away with something in the kitchen, calls back, “Then it wouldn’t do any good! Gotta have it at its most concentrated to do anything!”

I sit down my bag and trudge to the kitchen, where Marcey is mixing something in a pot on the stove. At first glance, I think she’s actually making dinner for a change. But, after several weeks spent getting to know her, I learned this is never the case.

“What are you brewing this time?” I ask her, coming up from behind and peeking at the contents of the pot. Next to the stove lays a bundle of stage burning on a clay plate.

“It’s a protection charm,” she says as she pinches something into the boiling liquid.

“Ah, I see. Protection charm for what?”

“For the apartment. I heard that a random building in the city caught on fire. They say it may be gang-related, so I’m not taking any chances.”

“Fire? Where?”

She points to the TV in the living room, visible from the kitchen island. I can see that the news has been turned on and, sure enough, a burning building is shown. What grabs my attention, however, is the subtitle saying, “Cunnington Building Burst Into Flames Early Tonight.”

Cunnington? Could they be talking about Jake? Of course! That must have been what that call was about.

I know I shouldn’t be, but I feel relieved knowing he wasn’t just faking the whole call to find an excuse to leave.

“I know that guy,” I murmured, pointing to the wide-chested man on the screen.

Marcey turns and says, “Jake Cunnington? You know Jake Cunnington? The richest man in the city? Well, now that his father died.”

“How did you know about his dad?”

“Please, nothing can be hidden in this city. But that’s not the question here. How the h*ll do you know Jake Cunnington?”

“I just met him in the bar?”

“Your bar? That shady hole in the wall?”

“Shady Lane,” I correct her. “And yes. Apparently, he was just looking for some breathing room. He was still reeling from his loss and needed a drink. Surely you can’t blame him for that.”

“No, of course not. But look,” she points at the screen. “Don’t you think it’s a little strange his dad dies, he meets you, and one of his office buildings burns down all in the same day?”

I chuckle. “No, I don’t think that’s strange.”

She sighs and rolls her eyes. She turns back and turns the burner on the stove off.

“Look, Kait. You know I love you, right?”

I nod. She and I have only known each other for a few weeks. She’d advertised for roommates coincidently the day I rolled into town. But already, she’s taken me under her proverbial wing.

“Good. Now, pay attention. These are all pretty big events, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“And you have a knack for seeing big things?”

I sigh. It didn’t take her long to discover my ability. After all, she is a “witch.” Or it could have been the constant night terrors that gave me away.

“I guess you could put it that way.”

“Now, my question is, why didn’t you see any of this?” She gestures to the TV again, a matter-of-fact look on her face.

Then, I think of Jake’s eyes. How familiar they look. Actually, they look remarkably like the wolf’s I had seen in my vision. That golden wolf with silver eyes. Jake has that same golden hair and eyes that shine like the moon.

And the wolf had walked out of a fire, just like the one I now see on the TV.

“Um…” I say, unsure how to respond.

“That’s right,” Marcey says, taking my hesitation to mean I have no excuse for her argument. “You didn’t foresee this. Therefore, I think this guy’s up to something, him and the gang who busted up his building.”

I shake my head. “What makes you think he’s up to something? So what if I didn’t see anything? My ability comes and goes. It’s not like it shows me everything. And besides…”

“Besides what?”

I look into her emerald eyes, brain whirring. “I think…maybe…I have seen this.”

Her eyes go wide, and the spoon she is holding drops to the floor. “You saw THIS?”

I nod, “Yeah. Maybe. I think so. I’m not sure.”

“Okay, now. Sit.” She moves me over to the table and shoves me down in the seat.

As she takes her place in front of me, her hair frizzy beyond hope and eyes filled with curiosity, she says, “What did you see?”

Then, I tell her about the vision I’ve had since I was a kid. Every night, I would see the same things. Two wolves. One gold, one black. Fire. Flames.

Marcey sits back. Stunned. “Holy sh*t! Why didn’t you tell me this? I thought you were having different visions every night!”

I shake my head. “No, it’s the same one. But my “feelings” differ from day to day. I didn’t tell you because, well…”

“You still don’t think I’m a witch? Do you?”

I shrug. “Can you blame me? I’ve been all over the country, and I’ve heard and seen a lot of things. I’ve met many people who claim to be prophets or seers, or even witches, and all of them turned out to be fakes.”

She slams her hands on the table, not hard, but loud enough to get my attention. “Do you not see the things I do in here? Do you think I LIKE to mix chicken feet and mugwort? H*LL NO! Like it or not, sister. I AM a witch, and I think you were sent here for a reason.”

“Oh yeah? And what reason would that be?”

She looks over at the screen, where Jake’s picture is now showing, the newscaster asking for any information about the fire.

“I think it has something to do with him. Your vision is too similar to this situation to be passed off as a coincidence. Whatever your original intent was for coming to Cumberland, you can forget about it. Now, looks like you got yourself a Mr. Dreamboat to consider.”