Messaging someone thought to be one of her three stalkers wasn't Sage's greatest idea. Yet, out of the three, she suspected this one was the reasonable man who tried to speak with her at the bar. At the time, Sage was a little freaked out and unstable, leaving her combative and not up for talking. During the stream, she was at ease and it left her tongue loose. She even surprised herself by talking about her mental health, which was usually a sore subject.
With him, it wasn't so hard. At least not right then. However, hours and a sweaty face later, Sage sat on her couch eating takeout from the downtown market, twirling peanut noodles up and around her fork while staring at her phone. She still hadn't responded to FaeLover because Sage wasn't sure where to go from here.
She shoved the bite of food into her mouth and chewed, savoring the burst of raw flavor on her tongue as she stared out over the glowing rooftops, wondering whether Hunter was out there. She was angry to be thinking about him, her mind sticking on those glowing eyes and his feral smirk. She wanted to call him just to learn more about her heritage.
Druid.
That, admittedly, was something Sage hadn't known about. Sure, some of the mythology books she read mentioned them, but never female druids. They were always male and preferred to study the dark arts over human connection with the Earth. Everything Hunter said contradicted the narrative of her books, but then again, listening to an actual supernatural over some long-dead guy who wrote about them could be more accurate.
… unless he was trying to manipulate her, which was a very real possibility. Sage sighed, finished her dinner, and put both thumbs hovering over the screen. She was going to respond to him; she was.
You can do this.
No, you can't.
Yes!
No!
Yes!
Before she could lose her courage, Sage typed out a quick, simple message and hit send.
SAGELY: Just that the more you know about your condition, the less control you have.
FAELOVER1218: … … …
"Ah!" She yelped. "He's already typing!"
Tossing her phone onto the couch, Sage fled to the kitchen to take care of the dishes and clean up. No matter how much she dreaded getting in the shower with this aching arm, she needed one. Badly. She was lucky no one mentioned her greasy hair on stream.
Sage wanted to launch herself over the couch and check for a message, but marched into the bathroom and took the quickest, most painful shower of her life instead. It stung the ever-living fuck out of her stitches and cheek, but the warm water was heaven on her muscles. She'd sit beneath it forever if given the chance, until her skin wrinkled like an old potato, but leapt out the moment the bubbles went swirling down the drain.
Dancing from foot to foot, Sage gingerly toweled off and slipped into the nearby closet, taking in the disaster of clothes all over the floor in indistinct piles of clean or dirty. She had to guess the ones in the very rear near the hamper were the dirty clothes, but did the smell test just to be sure. It was then her patience wore out and impulsivity took hold of Sage. While toweling off her locks, she snatched her phone from the coffee table. There were two messages from FaeLover.
FAELOVER1218: That's an interesting perspective. So you felt disheartened after learning how mental health disorders are often chronic, or was it something else?
Ten minutes later.
FAELOVER1218: Sorry if that was too forward. I'm kind of analytical like that.
She smiled in surprise.
SAGELY: That's exactly it, how'd you know?
Hanging the towel off the back of a breakfast stool, Sage flopped back onto the couch, dragging the disinfectant from earlier closer. She busied herself with reapplying it and hiding the wound beneath using a fresh bandage just so she wouldn't have to look at it.
FAELOVER1218: My mom felt the same way. She had bipolar 1, but it was treated correctly eventually, so she lived a semi-normal life.
Sage dropped the phone, and it fell to the leather with a slap echoing through the silence. Her adoptive parents said things like it'll get better with time and, you just need new meds, then everything will be fine. They never told her that living with this would only be easier with medication. They spoke of a cure. What Sage found over the years was that there was no such thing.
You have a disorder; you get treated for it and you manage it. All in that order. There was no other path to traverse. Some days her thoughts were so insistent they poisoned her blood and made her skin feel ten times too sensitive. Other days it was a low hum in the background, and there was no way to know which she'd wake up with.
Sage glanced around the room, noting her highly organized space that held no speck of dirt save for the occasional Yasuo hair. He snoozed in the corner, all curled up in his little bed beneath a long-standing potted ivy. It was close to being perfect, her haven. All she needed was a way to never go out again, despite her therapist telling her that would yield worse results, not better.
She wasn't convinced.
SAGELY: Wow, that's nice to hear, actually.
FAELOVER1218: I thought it might help to know I understand, at least a little. What are you up to now?
Sage bumped her phone against her chin for a minute before flopping back into the cushions and tugging a knit throw from the back of the couch over her legs. On the side table was a book she'd been meaning to finish, so she snatched it up, flipping to the page where she'd stuck an old receipt in.
It was a romantasy featuring a pack of werewolves as fated mates, which, right now, felt like an ironic slap to the face. Not that Hunter was her mate or whatever…Damnit, stop thinking about him.
SAGELY: Reading a romantasy, I have to finish. You?
FAELOVER1218: Playing an RPG. Is the book good?
SAGELY: I'll let you know after I'm done.
With that, she set the phone aside, turned fall lofi on, and got into the last hundred pages. Luxuriating in growly alphas coveting a desperate omega pining for love but afraid of getting hurt. It was a very classic plot, but sometimes it's just what you need to get out of a reading slump.
The sun went below the horizon while she read, bathing the world in burnt orange, deep yellow, and splashes of vivid pink. Sage glanced at it between pages, enjoying the afternoon and having very little anxiety for the first time in days…up until her phone vibrated the coffee table again. Somehow, Sage knew it wasn't FaeLover.
She re-tabbed the book and picked it up, frowning at it. It wasn't FaeLover, but it wasn't Hunter, either. This number was new, and the message made her blood run cold.
Enjoying your book, love?
Sage couldn't help looking out over the rooftops again. Perhaps the bastard would stand tall and proud with his stupidly attractive hair swaying in the wind. She couldn't find him in the darkness that'd settled, so she typed back a reply.
I'd prefer to avoid pleasantries. What do you want?
For a moment, there was no response until three quick knocks at her door startled Yasuo so much that they both jumped about a foot in the air. Her little corgi, yelping at the top of his tiny lungs, started running, legs moving before he did to barrel his body around the corner into the front entryway.
Sage followed, going much slower, fatigue washing over her after the day she'd had and the healing of her body. She hoped Lock wasn't on the other side as she opened it an inch, peeking out through the crack. Unfortunately, it was Lock with his hands shoved deep into the front pockets of his pants and chin tilted up to expose the long column of his throat.
Every little detail of him was on display, from the matte black jewelry covering his person in ropes of chains to his almond-shaped dark eyes, which pierced her soul. If she didn't already know he was some type of surreal supernatural creature, Sage would assume he was the lead singer in a punk band with killer music. She wondered if he'd ever worn eyeliner.
"What are you doing here?"
Lock scoffed. "So you let Hunt in, but not me?"
She narrowed her eyes. "He let himself in by walking ahead of me. It was a special circumstance, and forgive me if I don't have the strength to throw him out."
Lock looked her up and down, at least as much as he could see through the door. "Trust me, you might look small, but you're not weak. You could hand his ass to him any day if you just practiced using the power you inherited from your mother."
Without thinking, Sage opened the door all the way and put one hand on her hip to hide the shaking of her fingers at the mention of a mother she never knew.
"I still don't know if I should buy all this supernatural mumbo jumbo."
He raised a brow, feigning shocked dismay. "So that white light that slammed me into oblivion was nothing more than a magic trick? Show me how you did it!"
She knew he was mocking her, but played along regardless. "Can't do it. That would mean the magic is lost."
Lock huffed a laugh, bringing one hand up to point a sharp, black talon at her necklace. "No, it's locked in there, and I want to help you use it."
"For your benefit or mine?"
Lock didn't fidget as Sage would under the pressure of the direct question. In fact, she didn't think he ever apologized for who he was or what he said. And if he did, it was to appease others, never as a genuine apology. It was infuriating and a little sexy; she had to admit that.
"Why can't it be both? Let me in, and I'll tell you why."
For a moment, they glared at one another, their gazes sparking. She wanted to kick him or slam the door in his face. Really, she should, but after everything she saw…Sage needed to know more about this world that'd popped up. Plus, if she stood to learn where the tattoos on her back came from, maybe listening to him was in her best interest.
"Fine."
Sage left the door open and walked further inside, ushering Yasuo along so he would stop growling. Where he was docile with Hunter; he made up for it with Lock. Was it because they were two different supernatural beings? Sage knew Hunter was a werewolf, of sorts, but Lock…
She glanced back at him, noting his pale skin while trying to remember whether he was cold to the touch. The other night was a kind of blur. He caught her looking, flashing a feral smile that revealed too-long canines. It made her jump a little, and he chuckled even in the face of her surfacing scowl.
"I don't like you," she told him, stopping by the fridge to grab an ice cold zero sugar cola.
"Yes, well, the feeling is mutual."
Despite it, she offered him a drink, but he declined, instead walking around the room with his hands tucked behind his back. She cracked her drink and propped one hip against the kitchen counter to keep some distance between them, but watched all the same.
He studied her various bookshelves and fingered a few leaves of her plants. Sage almost yelled at him for it, but refrained by taking another series of long drinks. But when he stopped at her gaming rig and almost picked up her gesture control mask, Sage lost her cool.
"Are you done snooping?" she snapped.
His fingers stopped a millimeter from her rig as he looked over at her, smirking. "What? You don't want me to touch your toys?"
"Fuck you." Sage seethed, and she might've looked just as ferocious as Hunter in that moment. "I don't want you to touch my belongings. Now, start talking, or I'm throwing you out."
He sighed, dropping his arm. "You're no fun. I was only joking. It seems you're just as sensitive about it as my younger brother."
"Start talking," she ground out, clenching her fists.
Lock pulled her chair out from the desk and took a seat, crossing one leg over the other. It bunched up his designer black pants at the ankles, revealing that his tattoos went all the way down his legs as well.
Interesting…
"First off, I'm going to clear something up to dispel a bit of the animosity between us and you. That night when Hunter killed the man behind you, it wasn't a man. It was a ghoul, something this city hasn't seen in over a hundred years. They are face-stealers. After they suck the soul from innocent humans, they steal their appearance, hiding their own serrated teeth and pupilless eyes from other humans."
Sage's brows rose the more he spoke. "And let me guess, only supernaturals can see them?"
Lock nodded. "Yes, that's correct."
She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Then why didn't I see it? That man looked human to me when I pulled the mace from his stomach."
"You need a constant magic flow to see through the illusion, little miss sass. You didn't activate yours until Hunt threatened you. I have a photo of the body if you'd like to see it."
Sage put down her can of cola and stalked over to loom above him. Of course, it didn't faze him. Lock sat back in the chair and widened his legs, giving her more access as he pulled out his phone with a smirk.
Sage's face went a little red, but she doubled down, leaning in and placing her hands on either armrest, bringing their faces just as close as the other night. Tension zapped between them like live electricity, making the hair on her arms stand on end and her heart rate speed up.
"Show me," she murmured.
Lock watched her lips move for a moment before snapping out of it and looking down at his phone. Sage called that a win until he turned it toward her. The creature on the screen wore the same torn-up suit as the man from the restaurant, but was decidedly other.
Its mouth flopped open at a too wide angle, revealing row after row of serrated teeth. Its eyes were milky white and soulless. Sage didn't even want to know what it could look like in its natural form.
"That's a ghoul?"
"Yes, well, one that's taken on a human host."
Sage pushed the photo away and glanced at Lock, searching his face for clues. There were none, as his expression was always the same: bland indifference. Sometimes he smirked, but it was more mocking than anything else.
"And why are they around again if the supernaturals have kept them out?"
Lock's lips twisted, and he glanced away. "Only one type of supernatural is capable of banishing a ghoul back to the ether. We can kill the human host, but the ghoul in the photo isn't dead. It moved on to someone or something else."
Sage shifted from foot to foot as she took in the information. Why was he telling her this? What did it have to do with her?
"Okay, which supernatural being can banish them? Fae?"
"No," he replied curtly, eyes shifting back to hers. "Druids."
Realization washed over her. "And I'm assuming druids are rare, right?"
Lock nodded, lips pressed into a thin line. "There's only one in every jurisdiction. They work in harmony with the earth, using her energy to banish those who don't belong here while protecting supernaturals and humans alike."
Sage felt excitement stir in her chest at the idea of meeting another of her kind. Whoever it was could help Sage find out about her heritage, right?
"Can I talk to them by chance? Would they know more about my family?"
Lock stiffened even further. "No, you can't. They're sick, on their deathbed, actually."
"Oh."
Sage stood to her full height as her hope shattered, trying not to let the pieces fall all over the floor and alert him to her sudden pain. The fierce slicing of the pain surprised her. Sage turned away, strolling toward her counter and picking up the cola again as casually as possible before taking a seat on a barstool. It was a little rickety, and a part of her couldn't resist moving it back and forth over and over for comfort.
"And that's how the conversation comes back to you," Lock said after a few awkward seconds of wood screeching. "Currently, you're the only druid in the city. Ghouls likely sensed the missing energy that barred their entry, or attackers premeditated striking the sick druid to enable ghoul access. My elder brother is investigating with me right now while our younger brother analyzes the body."
Sage tried to keep up with his explanation while connecting it to herself. So, she was the only druid or person capable of banishing ghouls to the ether. Did that mean they wanted her to help them destroy ghouls in her free time? That sounds dangerous, plus it would mean leaving the house…
"Okay," she murmured, staring at him. "But I didn't know I was a druid until a few days ago."
Lock nodded along, face apprehensive as his eyes darted across her rocking frame. "Yes, but your power is an inherent part of your being. It lives within you while being controlled by the Celtic knot around your throat. That acts as a funnel or limiter so you don't draw too much too fast. You can if you try."
Sage frowned. "Are you sure about that? I've never used it before, not even accidentally."
Lock stood slowly from the chair, rolling it back into its spot before walking over and trapping her just as she'd done to him. His hands wrapped around the back of the stool as he leaned in, looking at her closely.
"Who is your mother? Where is she?"
Sage moved back as far as possible, hating how damn good he smelled. Like leather and bourbon on the rocks mixed with the soft, lingering scent of iron.
"I don't know."
His brow furrowed. "Don't act obtuse, Sage. It doesn't suit you."
"And it's a shame being an ass suits you," she snapped. "I don't know my birth parents. I was adopted young."
He smirked. "I do love our witty banter. Well, if you don't know her, then we'll just have to find her. How about that? You train with me to become a proper druid, and we'll help you find out more about her."
"And my father," Sage added, wringing her hands in her lap. "I think you'll only find records about them, nothing current."
"Don't worry about that; my associates are quite skilled. Now, is that a deal?"
Lock didn't step back, but he grasped her hands in his to stop them from shaking. His skin was just as cool as she expected, solidifying her convictions about what he was. However, right now, it was welcome against her sweaty palms. Calming her just enough to look him in the eye.
They were gazing at her, dark and ominous, yet pulling her closer. This was probably a massive mistake, but a part of her constant anxiety and obsession was her past. Her tattoo, she'd had since she was a toddler—one that no sane adult would ever force upon a child. She needed the answers more than she feared whatever came next. It felt right, this sudden purpose beyond her computer screen.
"Yes," Sage whispered. "We have a deal."