Page 27 of The Second Sight (Wanderlust Emporium Presents, Season One)

“You covered my shift?” I felt a rush of gratitude through my panic.

“Of course I did. But you owe me, cause you know that voodoo lady scares me. Is you cool? You dad said you left the house this morning with some White man.”

“Seven.”

“I figured it was him, but I didn’t tell your dad I knew him. I just played dumb like I ain’t know who dude was.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” I glanced at the ancient books spread across the bed.

“You better get your black ass back home. Your dad is talking about calling “dem boys on you.”

“I saw this text. He is a pissed postal worker. I would not play ‘dem games with Mr. Malcom Bacchar.”

“Listen, I need a ride. Can you come get me?” I asked, hoping I wouldn’t have to take an Uber alone.

“Where are you?”

“My location should be available again now that I have a charge.”

“Okay, yeah, I see it. 6967 Mayflower Lane. You’re really in Hinsdale?”

“Yeah, that’s it. I’m here.”

“At Seven’s place.”

“Yeah. I’m at his house.”

There was a moment of silence before Brooklyn let out a low whistle. “Damn, girl. I definitely need details now. I’m leaving to come get you. My phone says 32 minutes.”

“Call me when you pull up. And Brooke? Bring me some clothes. Mine are. I’ll tell you when you get here. Bye.”

After ending the call, I composed a text to my father. I couldn’t face calling him directly. Not yet, not when I could practically feel his anger and worry radiating through his text messages.

KASI

Dad, I’m okay. I’m so sorry I worried you. My phone died. Brooklyn’s coming to pick me up. I’ll be home soon. I love you.

His response came immediately:

DAD

We’ll talk when you get home.

Those six words carried more threat than any shouting ever could. Dad rarely got angry, but when he did, it was terrifying. I lived under his roof as an adult, and I never wanted to disrespect him like this.

I sank onto the edge of Seven’s bed, still clutching my phone. What would I tell my dad? How could I explain?

And what about Seven? I glanced at his note again. He told me to stay here, but I couldn’t wait for him to return. I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t just ignore my dad’s worry or my responsibilities. I couldn’t stay here forever. I can’t even believe I ghosted Miss Ellen like that.

The thought of leaving without saying goodbye to Seven twisted something inside me. After what we’d shared. Disappearing felt wrong, but so did staying.

My phone vibrated with another text from Brooklyn:

brOOKLYN

OMW

I had thirty minutes to get off my ass. Standing up, I tossed the sheet on the bed. I needed to find the clothes Seven had mentioned.

I had only a few minutes to get ready. A few minutes to wash away the evidence of Seven, and to make myself presentable enough to face my father.

I hurried into the connected bathroom and gasped.

Like everything else in Seven’s home, it was ridiculously extravagant, marble from floor to ceiling, a shower big enough for five people, and a tub that looked like it belonged in a museum.

No time for gawking. I twisted the serpent-head shower knob and stepped under the spray before the water had fully heated.

The cold water shocked my system, jolting me fully awake. As it warmed, I grabbed a bottle of shower gel and lathered up, scrubbing at my skin. The water ran down my body, carrying away the physical evidence of my sex with Seven.

I tilted my face up to the shower spray. How could I go back to normal life after this? How could I look at my father and not wonder what he might be hiding from me? Did he know what my mother was? Did he know what I was? He couldn’t have known about fairies.

The questions swirled in my brain. I had no answers, only more questions.

But one thing was certain. I needed to face my father, and to figure out how much of this I would tell Brooklyn.

It’s not like I was warned to keep this supernatural stuff a secret.

Plus, someone needed to know what was going on if something happened to me.

I shut off the water and grabbed a towel from a heated rack. I opened an old-looking cabinet. Seven’s bathroom was stocked better than a hotel.

After drying off, I remembered I had nothing to wear.

My dress was in tatters, torn apart by Seven’s passionate hands.

The designer clothes in the drawer seemed too formal for a nighttime dash home.

Instead, I rummaged through Seven’s closet and found a simple white button-down shirt.

I slipped it on, and the soft fabric fell to my mid-thigh.

My phone buzzed with a text from Brooklyn:

brOOKLYN

The gate is open. Do I drive in?

KASI

Yes. I’m coming down.

brOOKLYN

Hurry up! It’s dark out here.

I gathered my purse, hesitated, then grabbed one of the smaller grimoires about African Faefolk heritage. I couldn’t leave all this knowledge behind.

I made my way out of Seven’s bedroom. The hallway stretched dark and endless before me. Using my phone’s flashlight, I took a right and walked down the hall lined with closed doors that concealed God knows what vampire secrets. I’d been too distracted by Seven to pay attention to much of anything.

I descended the grand staircase. The massive entrance hall was right before me. The moonlight filtering through the stained-glass windows casted colored patterns across the floor. The huge front door was only a few steps away.

What if it was locked? What if some vampire security system alerted him the moment I touched the handle?

Would he be angry that I’d left? There was no time to worry about that now.

Brooklyn was waiting, and my father’s patience was running thin.

I grasped the heavy handle and pulled. The door swung open with surprising ease.

Brooklyn’s Honda waited at the bottom of the stone steps, looking out of place against the Gothic grandeur of Crackstone Manor. I dashed down the steps and yanked open the passenger door, sliding into her car.

“Holy shit, Kasi!” Brooklyn’s eyes were wide. “This is Seven’s house? It looks like a vampire’s mansion.”

I froze halfway into the seat. “What did you just say?”

“Girl, this place is like a castle! How rich is this dude?”

I exhaled slowly. She didn’t know. Of course, she didn’t know. The vampire part was just random.

“Here.” She thrust a shopping bag at me. “I brought you a nice little modest fit to cover your thottin’ ass. But first, explain why you’re wearing just a man’s shirt and why your dad is ready to empty the clip.”

I pulled the bag onto my lap as she shifted into drive and started down the long driveway. Inside were jeans, a t-shirt, underwear, and a pair of flip-flops. I began changing awkwardly in the passenger seat, struggling with buttons and zippers in the limited space.

“I lost my virginity,” I blurted out as I pulled the t-shirt over my head.

Brooklyn nearly drove off the road. “What? For real? Oh no, hoe.”

I nodded, tugging on the jeans now. “I did. Last night.”

“Damn, girl. Was it at least good? Was palm-colored worth all this drama?”

Brooklyn’s expression hovered between shock and delight at this juicy development in my boring life. The familiar smell of her vanilla air freshener as she cranked up the air. I stuffed Seven’s shirt into the shopping bag.

“It was...” How could I possibly describe it? Mind-blowing? Life-changing? Supernatural? “It was incredible. But Brooke, there’s more. So much more.”

My hands clumsily zipped and buttoned the jeans. How much should I tell her? Would she even believe me?

“Like what? Don’t leave me hanging!”

“Like...” I took a deep breath. “I don’t know how to tell you this. It’s unbelievable, and all I can say is you know I’m not a liar.”

She took her eyes off the road to stare me dead in my eyes. “Girl, just spill the tea.”

“Vampires are real. And my mother was a fairy. And I’m half fairy with magical abilities.” I inhaled. “And Seven is a vampire who drinks blood and lives in that mansion with his sister.”

Brooklyn’s foot eased off the gas as she turned to stare at me. The car slowed to a stop at a red light.

“Kasi, what the fuck? Did he drug you? Are you high right now?”

I shook my head, pulling the grimoire from my purse. “I know how it sounds. I wouldn’t believe it either. But it’s all true, Brooke. Every word. I can prove it.”

She looked from me to the ancient book and back again, her expression shifting from concern to uncertainty.

“You’re serious.”

“Dead ass. I’ll tell you everything, I promise. But right now, we need to get to my dad’s before he calls the cops. We will talk, but I have to figure out what to say to my daddy.”

Brooklyn hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Fine. But you’re telling me everything. And I mean every-damn-thing. I’m trying to be cool, but I’m thinking about stopping by CVS and getting you a drug test.”

“And I would gladly take a drug test to prove it to you.”

“Damn,” Brooklyn said as she turned onto the expressway. “And here I thought losing my virginity to Fred Reynolds in his mom’s basement was wild.”

I leaned my head against the window. I’d left without saying goodbye to Seven. Without leaving a note. Would he understand when he returned to find me gone? Would he come looking for me? Part of me hoped he would.