Page 14

Alonso

IT’S A TRUTH UNIVERSALLY ACKNOWLEDGED THAT ALONSO GETS BETTER at darts when he’s pissed.

“Wow,” Kiki says when he gets another bull’s-eye, except she says wow the way most people say fuck off .

“You good, Alonso?” Aidan asks from the couch, where he’s flipping through old Playboy magazines to get ideas for drag costumes.

They’re on the first floor of the old De Luca Pharmacy. It was repossessed by the bank after the pharmacy went out of business, but the bank forgot it existed, so it became a repository for garage sale furniture and goths. A stack of dusty DVDs sits in the corner, along with an ancient nineties television somebody disemboweled. An old Colts blanket hangs on the wall, but it’s covered in graffiti that says BEARS DEFENSE IS BETTER .

“I’m fine,” Alonso lies, and his next throw hits the outer bull.

It’s been a day since Penny showed up at Village Blues and single-handedly gave him an identity crisis.

Don’t you want to break the curse?

Of course he does. They all do. But the De Lucas gave up on fixing Grandpa Gio’s mistake a long time ago. After Corey’s grandparents got married and the relationship between Charles Barrion and Giovanni De Luca soured, the Barrions started spreading all kinds of rumors about the De Lucas: that they cast hexes on unsuspecting citizens, or that they killed people and used their fluids to make the tinctures sold at the De Luca Pharmacy. That was some nasty Sweeney Todd shit. Alonso’s grandpa had promised his grandma Allison that he would write a blood oath to clear their name and save the pharmacy. Blood oaths are powerful contracts written and signed in blood, and if anything written in the oath is a lie, the witch that signed it will literally go up in flames. But there was never any blood oath—just his grandpa Gio, dead. And he wasn’t burned to a crisp. Instead, it was a self-inflicted gunshot wound, because he’d apparently done something so terrible that he couldn’t live with himself anymore.

Alonso interprets this as an escape hatch. Grandpa Gio probably lied about the blood oath to get his family off his back. But Alonso’s mom and aunts had wanted to believe it, and they spent years tearing through the house and the pharmacy, going through all of Giovanni’s books and clothing and furniture, convinced they would find a blood oath that would absolve their family and maybe even prove Grandpa Gio hadn’t cursed the Barrions after all.

They found nothing. It was a waste of time.

Alonso’s eyes flick up to the ceiling. Grandpa Gio’s body was found upstairs, hours after the fire at Meredith House killed Ellie Barrion. People think it’s morbid Alonso shows his face here, so it adds to his don’t-fuck-with-me reputation. But deep down, Alonso is hoping to find answers, too. The kind that would change his family’s future.

Which is impossible. Alonso needs to follow the advice he gave Penny and move on.

The door to the pharmacy opens, and two trash human beings saunter inside. Clay Thornberg falls into a beanbag chair, and Royce Montalban leans against the wall, absorbed in something on his phone. Neither of them says hi, so Alonso ignores them.

Until he can’t.

“Y’all hear about Mrs. Emberly?” Clay says, and Alonso freezes halfway to throwing his next dart.

Aidan glances at Alonso. “Yeah, we heard.”

“It sucks. She was hot as fuck.” Clay smirks. “I guess there’s always her daughter.”

Royce laughs. “Think she gives it up as easily as her mom?”

“For sure. She’s got that girl-next-door thing going on, but I bet she’s a freak.”

The dart flies between Clay and Royce, and Clay screams, falling off the beanbag. The dart sticks straight out of the drywall, and they both stare at it for a long moment. Then Clay’s face turns bright red. He pushes to his feet and shoves Alonso’s shoulder.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Clay spits.

“Dude, it’s fine, he’s just playing,” Royce says.

Alonso smirks. “No, I’m not.”

Aidan grabs Alonso’s shoulder. “Hey. Let’s go outside.”

“Listen to your friend,” Clay says, nodding at Aidan. “He’s looking out for you.”

Before Alonso can say something intimidating or clever or both, Aidan is dragging him out the front door.

“Get off ,” Alonso says, shoving Aidan away once they’re in the parking lot. He’s full of kinetic energy, and he paces across the cracked concrete, running his hands through his hair. The sun has finally set, and the breeze cools the sweat on his neck, but he’s still buzzing. He wants to hit something. Preferably Clay, but a wall would do the job.

“You shouldn’t make enemies of those guys,” Aidan says.

“I don’t care.”

Aidan sighs. “Have you talked to Penny since the accident?”

Alonso stops walking. “Why?”

“Because…” Aidan throws up his hands. “Never mind. You won’t listen to me anyway.”

Kiki appears, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Let’s go. I don’t like breathing the same air as Clay.” She nods at Alonso. “Want a ride?”

“Nope,” Alonso says.

Kiki rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t argue. Before Aidan gets into the passenger seat, he pauses, drumming his fingers on the roof of the car.

“See you at the drag show?” Aidan says hopefully.

Alonso shakes his head. “Nope. Sorry.”

Aidan looks hurt for a split second, and then Alonso’s only real friends in the world are leaving, the car’s tires kicking up dust in the blue evening.

Alonso stares after them. They know he could pick up the fight with Clay. By leaving, they were checking out, saying Thanks but we have other things to do that don’t involve babysitting your sorry ass . Which is fine. They’re not Alonso’s keepers.

He looks up at the old sign. It still reads DE LUCA PHARMACY , the letters faded but legible, and seeing his name on this place makes him want to vomit. He hates what the pharmacy symbolizes: his family’s failure, and the Barrions’ hatred.

The De Lucas tried to keep the pharmacy going after their magic was sealed. Alonso’s grandma Allison was mortal, but she could make some basic tonics by hand. She was convinced they could find a way to make it work. She spent every day at the pharmacy with three kids under age four, stocking the shelves and placing orders for the kind of mass-produced medicines they never used to carry.

A year later, the Barrions brought a chain pharmacy into town. That was the first blow. Then somebody started rumors that the De Lucas were putting human bodily fluids into their tonics. The customers stopped coming by after that.

Shame and frustration settle on Alonso’s chest. Even though he wants to blame the Barrions for what happened to the pharmacy, it’s more complicated than that. Because if Giovanni cursed the Barrions, Alonso’s family deserves to suffer.

Unless they could fix it, like Penny said. Unless Alonso could—

“Fuck that,” Alonso says out loud.

“Meow,” says a creature in the dark, and Alonso almost pisses himself.

A figure moves on the roof of his Shelby, settling herself in a patch of moonlight.

The panic leaves Alonso in a wave. “Nimble,” he growls, “I told you to stay at the house.”

She licks her paw, unbothered. Showing up at Alonso’s side is all part of her job description as his familiar. That’s the way it’s always been, ever since that day in the woods—the day Alonso used magic for the first time.

The day Penny found out what Alonso really was.

The Nimble resurrection was mostly an accident.

It happened during the fall of Alonso’s second-grade year. That season was especially rainy, and it had turned the De Lucas’ backyard garden into a labyrinth. Alonso spent most of his time outside, because his parents were fighting a lot, and being around them was like being swept up in an angry tsunami. Instead, he would wander through the garden, alternately pretending to be lost in the jungles of Neverland or that he was a contestant in the Hunger Games. He wasn’t allowed to go into the woods by himself yet, but occasionally he would wander too far and claim it was an accident, because how was he supposed to know where their garden ended and the woods began?

This was also when Alonso discovered he liked running. There was something about hurtling himself through the trees and over the roots that made him feel like a superhero rather than a villain. Most of the kids at school stayed away from him, and if they did talk to him, they all asked the same questions: Can you use a spell to make my sister’s tongue turn green? Is it true that your family watches everyone in Idlewood through puddles of rain? What do you see when you look regular people in the eyes?

“Regular people.” As though Alonso wasn’t one.

Alonso started spending so much time outside that he eventually discovered an overgrown path to Elkie Lake. If he ran fast enough, he could get there in ten minutes. If he ran faster, he was convinced his feet could take him anywhere he wanted to go.

One day, when the ground was vibrating with thunder, Alonso set off for Elkie Lake at what he thought of as “top speed.” This meant when he got there he would have to collapse on the ground like someone who had just completed an important mission. It felt dramatic.

Except that day, Alonso was mid-stride when he tripped on a rock. A very small, soft rock.

While Alonso went flying face-first into the dirt, the not-rock slid across the ground, barely audible on the fallen leaves. Alonso scrambled to his feet, not even registering the cut on his cheek.

He had tripped on a kitten. Its eyes were open, unblinking, and its neck was twisted at a funny angle.

Alonso began to cry. He didn’t want the cat to be dead. He reached out and touched its neck.

There was thunder again, but this time, it came from inside Alonso’s veins. It was like a dam inside him had broken, and all the water was rushing through him. He almost blacked out.

Even at a young age, Alonso had heard a million stories about magic from his mother and aunts, how it can be painful when you’re learning to use it. All magic has a cost , his mom taught him, and that was how Alonso knew without a shadow of a doubt he was accessing some part of himself that was supposed to be locked away. He wanted it to stop, but it didn’t. All he could do was squeeze his eyes shut, and when he opened them, he was somewhere else.

It was the woods, but it wasn’t. The colors of the leaves were faded, and the branches were white and thin and twisted. It looked like they were reaching for him.

And there were people everywhere .

They wandered around him, arms hanging limply at their sides. At first, their eyes appeared unfocused. Then Alonso realized they didn’t have eyes at all. Their sockets were hollow.

Alonso screamed, but nobody reacted. Because these people were dead. They were ghosts .

“Meow,” something said.

Alonso looked down, and there was the kitten, staring up at him. Like these ghosts, the kitten was washed out, colors faded, and it didn’t have eyes.

Alonso realized where he was. This was the Second World.

His aunts had told him stories about this place. The Second World is the realm across the Veil. It’s where the spirits of the dead—mortal, witch, animal—all congregate right after death, and the Second World is abuzz with their energy. Witches are connected to the Second World in a way mortals aren’t, and they’re able to draw on this energy to influence their own realm. It’s the source of all magical energy.

Somehow, Alonso had crossed the Veil, even though the Council had sealed his family’s magic long before he was born.

“Meow,” the kitten said again, and Alonso’s fear subsided for a moment. He picked her up and said, “You’re coming back with me.”

The kitten began to glow. A white thread bloomed from her chest, connecting her to something in the distance. Alonso knew by instinct this meant the kitten was almost alive. They needed to cross the Veil again, and then she’d be okay.

But the shift in energy around the kitten had gotten the attention of the other ghosts and they all turned to look at Alonso. A young girl approached him, hand raised. Unlike the other ghosts, she had eyes. And they were a pure, unearthly white.

“Take me home,” she said.

The kitten’s ears folded back and she hissed. Alonso trusted her, so he moved away from the ghost. “Stay back,” he said, but the ghost girl took another step forward. Alonso made the mistake of reaching out a hand to knock hers away, but when he touched her, the strangest thing happened.

Alonso started to absorb her.

First her hand disappeared, and his own hand went numb, as though it was no longer part of him. Then the sensation crept up his arm, and there was pressure in Alonso’s chest.

A white thread bloomed from his own chest, connecting him to his body on the other side. The girl saw it, and her expression turned hungry. She reached for it.

This girl was using Alonso as a conduit. She wanted to take over his body back in the world of the living.

“Stop,” Alonso managed to say. But the girl didn’t stop. Alonso’s consciousness became fuzzy around the edges.

Then, in his arms, the kitten changed.

Her body stretched, becoming long and hairless. Her mouth bloomed into a snarl, and her paws grew to the size of Alonso’s head. She reached out with her claws, swiping at the girl’s torso. The girl screamed as the kitten tore her like paper, the pieces of her floating off as her scream echoed.

Alonso shouted in relief, and he wrapped his arms around the now-large animal that had saved his life. But the ground shook, and other ghosts started to appear—and they all had white eyes.

The animal snarled at them, and fear held the ghosts back for a split second. Alonso took the opportunity. With the animal held tightly against his chest, he ran at “top speed,” following the thread that connected the animal to its tiny, lifeless body.

Thunder rumbled inside him again, and then he felt rain. When he opened his eyes, he was back at Elkie Lake. His Elkie Lake.

And in front of him, the kitten was purring.

He gasped and scooped her up in his arms. “Hi,” he said, burying his face in her fur. She dug her claws into his skin in affection.

Magic buzzed in Alonso’s veins. His family wanted their magic back more than they wanted anything else in the world. If Alonso could use his, they would be happy. Hopeful. Alonso could see his mother’s face already; she would be so proud of him. Alonso knew he wasn’t easy to be around. He could feel it in the way people treated him, like he was delicate. But if he had magic, his mom would want to spend time with him. She would teach him how to use his powers.

Then Alonso remembered the stories about his grandfather Giovanni. The man who had used his power to kill people, including Corey Barrion’s mother a few months ago. His mom and aunts always lowered their voices when they talked about Grandpa Gio, as if they weren’t supposed to speak his name, or love him, or even remember him.

They were ashamed.

Alonso clutched the kitten tighter to his chest. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. If he had this power, could he control it? Or would he end up like his grandfather—making enemies and hurting people until he couldn’t live with himself anymore?

In the future, Alonso would use strategically vague questions to get stories from his mom and aunts about necromancy—one of the most dangerous classes of forbidden magic. He would learn there were no known success stories. Instead, any witches who tried to resurrect the dead were possessed by poltergeists—white-eyed spirits like the young girl Alonso had encountered, ghosts who weren’t able to cross over and grew powerful from their resentment of the living. Poltergeists keep their memories but lose all empathy, and whenever they get the chance to cross through the Veil, they wreak havoc on mortals and witches alike until their hosts are killed. Alonso had only escaped thanks to the kitten, and he swore to himself he would never cross the Veil again.

But that day in the woods, Alonso hadn’t realized how close he’d come to dying. He just held the kitten to his chest and decided he didn’t want anything to do with his newfound magic.

“I’ll call you Nimble,” Alonso told the kitten. He’d learned that word from his classmate Penny Emberly. They’d done a project in language arts that required them to research the roots of words, and Penny had chosen nimble . When she used it in an example sentence, she’d said, “A cat is very nimble because it always lands on its feet.”

The kitten purred in approval. Then her ears twitched, and Alonso heard it, too: a snapped twig, the crinkle of leaves.

Alonso whipped around, holding the kitten to his chest. “Who’s there?” he called, afraid it was his mother or aunts. If they knew about his magic, they’d want him to use it. And what if he lost control?

But there was nobody in the woods. There was only silence. Nobody had seen him bring the kitten back to life. It would be their secret.

Or so Alonso had thought.