Page 3 of Do You Even Hex, Bro?
"Regina, I won't tell you again. This is coven business. Go back upstairs."
His tone raises my hackles. Five years together, and he still treats me like I'm not really coven, just a tool to use when needed.
"I am the coven," I say, surprising myself. "I'm the Thirteenth. The one who makes everything work. So don't tell me what isn't my business."
I push past him. He grabs my arm hard enough to bruise.
"You don't want to see this."
"Let go of me!"
He doesn't. Instead, his grip tightens and he throws me against the wall.
It's the first time he's ever laid a hand on me, but when I feel the magic prickling around me, forming visible sparks in the air like static in a dry blanket, we both know it will be the last.
We stare at each other. For the first time, I see something new in his eyes. Fear. Not of whatever's behind the door, but of me.
Of what I might do if I see it.
I jerk awake, hand flying to my face. The bus hit another bump. My nightmare isn't fantasy. It's memory. The night that led to the night that changed everything, scarred me inside and out.
I check the bus. No one's watching. Outside, the view has changed. We're passing city outskirts now. Streetlights line the highway, illuminating exit signs.
Stormvale.
Almost there.
I straighten up, wiping sweat from my forehead. My reflection shows the glamour holding, but weaker. If I squint, I can nearly see the scar beneath—a shadow beneath fake perfect skin.
At this rate, I've got a few days max before I can't even hold the visual glamour. I'll have to ration what's left of my energy. As soon as I get somewhere private, and considering I only have enough money for a hostel, that's going to be easier said than done.
On the plus side, rationing my power will make it even more difficult for the coven to track me. Being in a massive city filled with supernaturals and other magic users will help, too.
"Approaching Stormvale Central Station," the driver announces. "Check you have all your belongings before departing. Won't get 'em back for another week at best."
I double-check my duffel for my three changes of clothes, toiletries, my grimoire, essential spell components, and cash.
Everything I own now.
The bus pulls into the station, brakes hissing. It's just past 5 AM, that gray hour when the world hangs between night and day. Perfect for someone who doesn't want to be seen.
I shuffle off with other passengers, head down. Stormvale Central dwarfs the station we left. High ceilings, multiple platforms—even a coffee shop, though it's closed. Digital boards announce schedules. The place smells like bodies and fuel and old spilled coffee.
In the bathroom, I check the damage under the harsh lights. My glamour is failing rapidly since I'm already trying to limitthe energy I expend on it. The scar shows as a faint outline that pulses with every heartbeat.
I need juice, soon.
I splash cold water on my face, then check my phone for local maps. Need a cheap, safe place to regroup and plan.
Stormvale houses one of the highest concentrations of non-humans on the West Coast. That makes this city both perfectanddangerous as a hiding spot. Perfect because I blend with other magicals. Dangerous because any of them might sell me out to Kyle for the right price.
And Kyle can be convincing as fuck.
I need to break the coven bond, fast. As long as it exists, Kyle can trace me. Although the idea of Ryan getting on the bus behind me is kind of hilarious. Pretty sure he'd spontaneously combust if he stepped into anything less bougie than a Lexus.
Morning air hits my face outside, stinging my hidden scars. Dawn breaks in pink and gold. Stormvale rises around me, old brick buildings standing out against modern glass towers. Traffic's already backing up despite the hour.
A city that never stops.
