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Chapter 23: Marina Murders (3)
🕑 Added 2025-09-11 04:51:25 +0000 UTCThe roads were clear of snow, thanks to the trucks that worked through the night. But the salt wasn’t enough and that meant the snow had to be put somewhere. Which meant that the sidewalks were all walled in. A barrier created from the combination of snow, ice, and wind blocked in most of the cars. The smaller sedans had no way out.
It was early enough in the morning (or cold enough, take your pick) that we were the only ones on the road. No other cars in sight. I did spy a few people shoveling their sidewalks, but the seemingly neverending snowdrift kept most people indoors. It would inevitably be coated in white anyways.
I watched the houses and people pass by, relishing in the warmth of the truck.
When was the last time I got to feel warmth in winter? Sleeping bags had the romance of camping, until you’re stuck sleeping on the floor with the heat turned off because your foster parents claimed that the electricity bills were too high.
“Soooooooo,” Lev broke the silence, both hands on the steering wheel. “Anyone got a story?”
Jesus. Magic, Murder and Small Talk. I was basically living a Shakespeare play. Or a Manga.
“I’d prefer to talk more about the murders.” Penelope said, “Did you grab everything you needed?”
“Yeah.” I was still looking out the window, hand on my chin. The other hand clutched my backpack close to my chest. I packed a few books, chalk, my gravity knife and another bologna sandwich.
I felt Lev’s eyes shift to the rearview mirror and rest on my backpack. “Cute backpack, Hallow.”
Absently looking down at it, the usual view greeted me. Pink canvas with the words ‘Girl Power!’ in neon green lettering with glitter on it.
“Never saw a guy pair raw denim with those colors, but hell, what do I know.” He continued.
“Raw denim?” I asked, shifting the focus off my backpack.
“Your jacket. It’s raw. Don’t tell me you don’t know what raw denim is.”
I shrugged. “It was in the closet.”
“Oh man. Raw denim is–” Lev began.
“Lev.” She said with the tone of someone who’d gone through this a million times.
Lev shrugged and concentrated on driving.
“I’m more interested in what you guys are.” I stopped staring out the window and turned back to Penelope. “Don’t start thinking I didn’t notice that you two never answered me.”
An uncomfortable bout of silence followed.
“Tell me what you know about the supernatural world.” Penelope said at last.
“I only know as much as I’ve been told. Which is jack squat.” I complained, but complied. No point in trying to hide anything, it was obvious that the two knew more than me at least. “Magic is real. Along with magic, everything that goes bump in the night, including ghosts, demon, monsters and nursery rhymes are real too. There’s a little country club for people like me, who can use magic, called the Society. Super elite. Super snobby.”
I thought some more. “I think that’s about the gist of it.”
“You know that Society isn’t the only magical group in the world?”
That perked my interest. “Such as?”
Penelope shrugged. “Society is definitely the biggest group for Wizards. But there are other pocket communities too. Small towns, big cities, doesn’t matter. Sometimes it’s just Wizards, sometimes it’s more than that.”
“Werewolf tribes. Vampire Houses.” I said, mirroring what Emyrith said. “Fae Courts. Are you two fae?”
“No.” Lev answered merrily.
“The groups I’m talking about aren’t necessarily limited by what you are, though sometimes that’s the case. I’m talking about groups that gather under a banner. Under an ideal, a goal.”
“Home owner’s associations?” I offered.
“By Ishtar, no.” Lev muttered with a small wink at me.
I had to give it to him. It was kind of hard to hate him. He was just so nonchalant and cheerful about everything; and that was coming from me after that fiasco with the wards.
Even Penelope cracked a smile. “Similar in the idea. Picture this. In a small town of one-hundred, there are about a dozen witches, mages and whatnots. Maybe the mages belong to Society. Maybe the witches have their own Coven. Maybe the whatnots are not even people; vampires, smart monsters.”
“Does the witch, the mage and the whatnots walk into a bar?”
“Focus.” She glared but it was half-hearted, “They don’t like each other. But they all share the interest of wanting to protect their home and the place that their home is in; the town. So maybe they start having weekly meetings, monthly meetings. Just to inform each other of what’s going on, smooth over misunderstandings and so on.”
“That’s called a home owner’s association.” I said gravely. “Pretty up there on the evil scale.”
Lev chortled.
“Like I said, similar. These organizations aren't beholden to Society, or the Coven. It’s an organization unto itself; supported by the fact that the members share the same goal.”
Her explanation made me want to ask more questions. For example, what was this witch’s coven? There were sentient monsters?
More things to know. More things to research. I shelved them for later.
“There are thousands of these groups across New York alone.” Penelope leaned back in her seat, deflating. “And that’s not even including the influential families.”
“And they cackle and stir the cauldron together?”
“No.” Penelope replied, “It’s different for every group. In my hypothetical situation, maybe they all just want to keep the balance of power. Some are financially motivated. Some are…” She searched for a word. “Less concerned with keeping the peace.”
“So every town has them?”
“Depends on how many people live there.” Penelope gave me a half shrug, “More people, more chances of people from this side living there. And it’s not always centered around a town. A group could be spread out. I doubt all the Society Members live in the same place either.”
“And how many groups like this are there in New York?”
“...Hundreds. Maybe even thousands.”
“Jesus Christ,” I swore, wanting to go back home.
“Focus.” Penelope continued, “Now imagine all these groups living together. Queens, Manhattan, Brooklyn; doing whatever they wanted. It’d be chaos. To prevent that, all the major powerful groups and families got together to form a council, similar to Society.”
“We did that before. That’s called the American Revolution.”
“Not as allies. More of… think of it like Townhall. But it’s all the major members of the supernatural community represented there. Society. The big families. Powerful individual entities. They call it the Table.”
I took the words and tried to wrap my head around it. “Like the American Government. All the states, coming together to talk. And where are you two in all this?”
“Our family is one of the members of the Table.” She said, “That’s about all I can say for now.”
“Something’s not right here. You two are part of this big shot super-secret club and you guys decided to come to me?”
Penelope and Lev shared a look.
“If you two are lying to me about having information about the trial–”
“We’re not lying.” Penelope sighed, “It’s… complicated. Family politics. You wouldn’t understand.”
Ouch. Way to hit an orphan in the guts.
Penelope realized what she said and how it sounded, “I didn’t mean that as in–” She made a frustrated sound, “We’re not lying to you, Hallow. We do have some information. You think we’re lying? After coming this far?”
“No, but I think it’s entirely possible that you give me useless information that doesn’t prove helpful at all.” I didn’t let the words gain much weight, changing the topic, “How big is your family?”
“When we say family, we mean our entire family. But in New York alone? Maybe a few hundred.” Lev said solemnly. “And trust Penelope on this, Hallow. This isn’t a losing deal for you.”
“And you two are… what? Cousins?”
Penelope nodded.
I sighed but what Lev said did make me feel better. I had a sinking feeling that Penelope was some idealistic girl who had sucked me into some after-school low-budget project that was going to get me killed. Now she was an idealistic girl from an influential family that was going to get me killed.
Not that I was one to complain, I had literally zero backing to speak of.
“Which brings us back full circle. You didn’t answer my question. You two are not human.”
“We could tell you,” Lev said, “But where’s the fun in that?”
The two were playing with me. Dangling the information in front of me and just making me run back and forth between them. Like tag-teaming me with bits of information while the other danced just out of reach. Making me play fetch like a dog. They knew I didn’t really care what they were, as long as they kept their word.
I did care. Kind of. But on the surface, they looked human, talked human and smelled human. Hell, I smelled a lot worse than they did. It dulled my sense of danger, making me extend an arm of trust I wouldn’t otherwise. It helped a lot that Penelope literally saved my life.
But I had to remember, they weren’t human.
They looked human and I was willing to bet that was as far as their humanity stretched, in the strictest sense of the word.
Skins and mirrors. That’s all it was.
