Mark had been unusually quiet for the last two hours. Although he didn't decline John's idea of celebrating we were alive, he had silently followed us towards the diner.
The waitress didn't want to let us through, and I couldn't blame her as our bloodied looks were definitely a sight to see. She consulted with the manager, and as it turned out, the diner owed Ray quite a sum of money. Peter made sure to remind the owner over the phone, and our lot sat down at a table hidden from the general clientele.
Lily joined not too long after, her makeup freshly done. She had changed the tracksuit for a black mini dress. Whoever saw her wouldn't have guessed her exhausted state just hours before. "So, Mitchell, how was your first gang fight?"
"Huh?" John muttered, gaping at me, over his daikiri. "Haven't you been in a fight before?"
"Dad ran a background check on him. He's as clean as a bottle of bleach." Lily did a little proud dance.
Peter pointed at them when he saw my confusion. "Their dad is an FBI agent." He pulled his hand over his head. "One of the top." Since he'd saved my life, he'd been too friendly.
His demeanor clashed with my pessimistic view of the bully, and I remembered he had lost a brother. I'd never wondered about his life when he'd come to collect my debt because I was too preoccupied with coming up with the money. He was a villain in my story, and I didn't even stop to consider he might be a hero in someone else's story. Hell, he'd been a hero in mine.
I shook my head. "One fight is enough for a lifetime, I'm afraid I won't be joining anymore of them." Was their cop dad a problem?
Mark slurped on his banana smoothie. His eyes stared at a particular spot on the table. Maybe he was looking at one of the few stains on the surface. He was feeling guilty, and as much as everyone was keen on ignoring that fact, I knew by their faces they wouldn't have forgotten so easily. I'd almost died a few hours ago.
They didn't want to talk about it. But they needed to. "So, are we going to talk about it?" Mark's head snapped up. I sighed. "Why your long faces? Get over it."
"Yes," Peter said, finally taking the first step. "So, who has tried to kill you before?"
"You're a box full of surprises, witch" John added.
"Fucking finally, I thought you'd never ask. The first time, I was four. My parents had just died.. The second time, I was sixteen. My abuela was working with a possessed client." The third time... I didn't want to talk about the third time. "And that's it." I sipped my strawberry milkshake. "See? It's part of the job." It's part of my life, I wanted to add. But that would've sounded too miserable, and the vibe among us was already uncomfortable enough.
"I'm going to the bathroom," Mark announced. His face was pale and I worried he might pass out before he reached it.
Peter stood up, clearly thinking the same as me, but I was quicker. "He's my friend."
Was Peter jealous? "Next time he tries to kill you, you talk to him. But it has to be me now."
The three of them didn't argue further, and so I took that as my sign to follow Mark to the bathroom. My throat hurt still and my body felt a few tons heavier. I'd need a nap of at least 10 hours soon, but Mark needed to hear I was okay.
When he saw me coming, he tried to shut me out, but I got inside the bathroom. He pushed the door closed behind me, caging me between his arms. I had felt his body so close a few hours before, yet this time it carried a denser significance. His blue eyes were cold and his features hard. "Can't I have some time alone?"
"Be my guest." I said, nonchalantly. "After you tell me what's going on inside your mind."
"I have to pee."
"We're talking about feelings here." Nevermind the fear that coiled inside my stomach. He was so close. He was strong enough to kill me. And I had nothing more interesting to do than confront him in a closed space. I really wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. "Care to explain why you're so different now? Even your friends noticed."
Mark blew the air out of his nose as he raked his black hair. He looked close to losing it. "I almost killed you."
"Yes, and so?"
"Something happened to me. I—I was powerless. I was angry." He said through gritted teeth, his chest raising violently. "I wanted to kill you. Don't you understand? If Peter hadn't been there..."
"But he was there." What ever would've happened if Peter hadn't been able to stop Mark was also a question I wondered myself. What would've happened to Silas? "Let's not dwell in the past."
The truth was, Mark's demon cluster was finally making him go crazy. And from there, it would only get worse until he died. His attempt on my life... It would happen again. And again. And either he succeeded in killing me, or I succeeded in getting free. How long would I be able to play cat and mouse with him until I lost the game?
I shouldn't have come in there alone. But when it came to this job, I'd been doing a lot of idiotic things.
"How can I not? Now I understand the Bad Omen shit. I'm bad luck, right? Will I destroy everything around me?"
I felt pity for him, above all. Because I didn't see a boy that deserved such a burden. "I'm sorry." I'm sorry for lying, I wanted to say. "I'm okay now. Don't you see? Fresh as a rose. Didn't you hire me for this?"
Mark's lips curled upward. "I didn't hire you to die for me. Do you think I'm a monster?"
I smiled. "No," I said, truly meaning it. "But I did tell you it gets ugly sometimes. That's why I didn't take jobs anymore, remember?"
"So I'm forcing you. That makes me feel like a fucking asshole."
I tilted my head. "Well, you're paying handsomely for these troubles..."
The bathroom light blinked and went out, leaving us in the darkness. I knew where he was by the way his body radiated heat. He backed away a few steps. "Damn light. Haven't I told Jen it's going to pop?" His breathing was the only sound breaking the silence. After a while, he said, softly, "What if this happens again? And there's nobody there to stop me?"
Inside my pocket, I grabbed the talisman for comfort. "You took me by surprise. But I'm far from defenseless. Next time, I'll kick your ass until you wake up."
He chuckled. "Well, aren't you a dangerous little shaman?"
"Shaman? What are you talking about? I'm neither a witch nor a shaman!" I stepped towards him, towards the warmth.
"What should I call you, then?" His words tickled my face, and I realized I had walked within two inches of him. When it was too dark to see the abyss around Mark, it was actually nice to talk to him. I found myself not wanting to step into the light. To keep the conversation going.
"A seer, of course. What else could I be?"
"Promise me you'll be able to fight me." When I tried to back off, he placed a hand on the small of my back to keep me from retreating. "And then I'll promise to walk out like nothing ever happened."
My abuela told me to never make a promise you can't keep. In our magic world, words have the weight to tie us. They can free you, they can keep you prisoner. One could never be too careful about overthinking which words to say. "I promise. Does that make you feel better? I promise I'll hit you with everything I have if you try something like that ever again."
Inside my pocket, I wrinkled the talisman in my fist. "If you try something like that ever again, I'll hurt you," I whispered, anger making my eyes water. I hoped the demons could understand it was a threat.
"Good," Mark whispered. In the dark, I think I saw him smile. "The next round of smoothies is on me." He dropped his hand, finally letting me free, and walked out of the door, unaware of the effect he had in me.
I waited a few seconds until the door to the bathroom was closed to let out a deep breath. My hands trembled when I reached for the handle, and I had to splash some cold water on my face to calm myself.
I would have to talk with Mark again, when he wasn't being eaten alive by guilt. I still needed to know how he'd known the ghost was my mom. There wasn't a single photo of my parents at home, nor had I told him who she was. Lily's background check was new to them, so Mark likely didn't know about it. Maybe he'd ordered some of his people to find out about me. It was a very real possibility, given the power of his father. And yet, I wondered why I saw recognition in his eyes when he'd looked at my mother's ghost.
When I returned to the table, Mark had truly kept his promise. He was smiling and joking around, to the delight of his friends. Peter's eyebrows were pinched together when he raised his gaze to meet me, a subtle half smile curving his lips. Maybe he was starting to finally believe in my magic, after all.
"So, like, what are we going to do now?" John asked, amused. "We have no file."
"Ugh. So much trouble for nothing," Lily complained.
"I have men looking into those guys' whereabouts." Peter said when he stopped munching on the ice from his soda. "We'll find that asshole."
"They all had a strange symbol tattooed on their necks." Mark, ever so observant.
"The triple goddess," I clarified. "The tattoo. The number three is very popular among our people. And about our next steps, we may be a step behind, but the file is just one of the pieces. If we can't start from the end, then we'll start from the beginning."