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“Nope.”
“Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure I’d know if I could toss fireballs or turn people into frogs.”
She shook her head. “Transmogrification isn’t possible. As for fireballs, the amount of power needed is beyond most of the witches in the sisterhood. Back to the magic, have you ever seen someone injured and when you tried to help them found their wound less severe than expected?”
“Uh, no.” Then again, I didn’t go out of my way to Band-aid people.
“Ever lost something and seen its location in your mind?”
“I wish. I’m still looking for my left ear pod.”
She frowned. “Perhaps you just haven’t noticed the power.”
“Or maybe I don’t have any magic.”
“There’s only one way to be sure. You must be tested. The forumdomus has the tools to do that.”
“Nice try, lady. I’m not going anywhere with you.” I shook my head.
“Don’t you want to know the truth?”
“Why do you care?” I countered.
“Because we are entering a time of great danger and turmoil. The demon incursions have suddenly increased. Our reapers are struggling to contain the outbreaks. The last time things were this bad, the universe sent a hero. A messovenata, which is a fancy word for reaper witch.” She stared at me.
I burst out laughing. “Wow, do you have the wrong person. I am not heroic.”
“A lack of arrogance is a hero’s trait.”
“Bravery is as well, and I am more cowardly than the lion in Oz.”
“Only because the unknown is frightening. What if you learned to fight?” Nova kept trying to convince me.
“I don’t want to learn. I’m happy as I am.” Not entirely true, but going from boring store clerk with no social life to demon-fighting witch? Sounded like a way to never make it to retirement.
“You are just as stubborn as he claimed,” Nova mused aloud.
“Sorry to waste your time. Now if you don’t mind, unfreeze my boss and get going.”
Nova shook her head as she stepped past me toward the door. “I’ll leave but only because you’ve yet to realize you won’t be able to return to your old life. Something happened to you. You’ve changed, and while you want to pretend you haven’t, the demons won’t ignore it.”
Sobering words. But the alternative involved me becoming a scythe-wielding person against ugly sewer monsters. That sounded exhausting and terrifying.
“Sorry. Best of luck finding someone to be your reaper witch.” Cool title. It almost made me wish I could be that person. But at forty-two years old, I knew my limits.
“I hope your stubbornness doesn’t get you killed.” Her last comment before she left and my boss suddenly exclaimed, “Where did you come from? And where did the customer go?”
I didn’t know. Didn’t care. Was I being a pig-headed mule? Yes. In my books, heroines jumped at the chance to be great. Me, I just wanted to forget everything that had happened and go back to my dull existence.
Hard to do when you get hauled off to the police station for questioning.
7
Two officers in uniform came to the store and escorted me downtown, hence why I found myself in a room with gray walls, no window, and a small camera tucked in a corner to spy on me. The table bolted to the floor had four chairs, two on either side, and none that I wanted to touch given the grime on the plastic seats. I didn’t have a choice.
It should be known I’d tried to argue my way out of coming—"I haven’t done anything wrong. Are you arresting me? I know my rights. I want a lawyer.”
