13: is it bad luck or stupidity?

Safiya's the only one in the kitchen when I step out of my dad's study. Sybil's vacated the pantry, though she's left the door open and the light on, and when I glance around, Midge doesn't seem to be here either. There's only Safiya, leaning back against the granite island with a cell phone in her hand and a bored look on her face.

She doesn't look up as I come in. "Hey. Where's Midge?"

"Sybil pulled her off somewhere. They're probably discussing witchy business," Safiya replies, pulling a flask from her purse that is more likely to contain blood than whiskey. "I couldn't care less."

I plop down in a dining chair. "The two of them had better hurry. There's a new item on our agenda."

Safiya lets out a long groan, finally making eye contact with me. "You're telling me you're not tired of this? All this running around? I mean, Jesus, just this morning we were in a vampire-hijacked toy store."

"Yeah, about that," I say, remembering something that creepy Cyril guy had said. "You were in the North Ave Clan, Safi? Not that I trust anything Cyril says, but you acted like, you know, like you didn't want me to know."

Safiya looks at me, takes a long drink from her flask, then looks at me again. "Like I'd want anyone to know?" she fires back. "They're a dumb posse and I don't like to acknowledge that I ever had anything to do with them. But, yeah, I did once. That answer your question?"

I'm unable to fight a smirk. I'm learning all sorts of stuff about people today, I'm thinking. Who knew all this was hiding right under my nose? "Sure, Safi."

"Good. 'Cause I've got one for you."

I glance at her. She's put away her flask and now stands square towards me, her hands on her hips. "Oh?" I say.

"How long have you known this witch chick, huh?"

"Two days, I think," I answer. "Not that we met on typical terms, or anything. She stabbed me. I don't think there's anything typical about that."

God bless Safiya, really, because unlike everyone else in my life, she doesn't ask about these things. She gives me a subtle weird look, but that's all she does before moving on. "I'm just thinking...you seem pretty protective of her."

If I hadn't been paying attention before, I sure am now. "What? Protective?"

A broad smile spreads across Safi's face, low and slow and almost serpentine. I'm beginning to regret ever agreeing to any of her questions at all. It's Safiya. Of course it's not going to be pleasant. How did I not know it was going to turn out like this? "You should've seen the look on your face earlier. You looked like you were gonna snap Cyril's neck. And why? Because he was touching your little pink-haired princess, am I right?"

"Alright, Safi, that's enough," I say, deliberately not looking at her. "Midge and I—"

"Don't give me that 'just friends' crap. You were hyperventilating when she passed out, Grey. Hyperventilating. And you've known her for two days! Careful, or you'll both end up like Romeo and Juliet."

"I'm done with this conversation!" I snap, and when I see Safiya raise her dark eyebrows at me, I just cross my arms with a harrumph. "Yeah. And so are you."

Safiya's glaring at me now, and for a moment, I think she's going to dropkick me or something (seems like something she'd do), but Midge and Sybil enter the kitchen before she can. They come in from the direction of the living room, both of them with an odd, grave look on their faces that they try to wipe off before I can see.

I notice it anyway. "Is everything okay?" I ask, getting to my feet.

Sybil's already on her way back to her pantry. She waves me off. "Don't worry about it, Grey. I just wanted to get to know your new buddy."

I look at Sybil, then at Midge, then back at Sybil again. They don't think I'm stupid enough to believe that, do they? "Come on, guys. You're gonna have to tell me sooner or—"

"Don't we have a wolf fight to crash?" Midge cuts in then, grabbing my arm and steering me towards the door. I fight to look over my shoulder, but Midge just tightens her grip and pokes a finger between my shoulder blades. I'm honestly a little surprised, but she's stronger than she looks; I can't get her to let go. "We appreciate the hospitality, Sybil, but we should get moving. Thanks again!"

"Midge," I say, but she just ignores me, not releasing my arm until the three of us are out in the tunnels. "Midge?"

She swallows, peering at me through the dark. "Just get us out of here, Grey. I'll tell you everything then. Alright?"

There's nothing about this that I like, not the expression on Midge's face, not the concern so present in her tone, not the way she jabs me in the back when I don't move fast enough. But I do as she tells me to, leading her and Safiya back to the station, up to the surface.

Midge doesn't say a word to me until we're resting on a city bench, she and I side by side, Safiya kicking mindlessly at the fence behind us. I check the watch on my wrist impatiently. We have half an hour, maybe, until the sun goes down. If there's ever a time for a wolf fight, it would be at night, I'm thinking, underneath a bright moon.

We're going blindly into this, and I know that. But I have to hope. I have to hope it's not for nothing.

"Sybil and I...we've both noticed something," Midge confesses, wringing her hands. "About the city."

I sink down in my seat, leaning over its back with a heavy sigh. "Of course. Of course. Does it have to do with all these people going crazy lately?"

"I'm not sure. It might have something to do with it."

Safiya pauses her kicking for a moment, a slight twang reverberating from the metal her foot last struck. "What is it?"

Midge tugs at a strand of her hair, crossing her legs. "Ever since we—non-humans, I mean—came here, there's been an energy the city runs on. Not magic, but something like it. Keeps everything running, gives witches something to draw from, helps pixies and nymphs do their thing. It's a constant. Been like that for years. But..."

I sit up, looking at her expectantly. She won't meet my eyes. "But?"

"It's different now. Something's off...like a disruption, or something," Midge elaborates. " Not everyone can feel it, but considering I'm a witch...it's sort of intrinsic. And yeah, I think this may have something to do with the prophecy."

"Okay, fine," I allow, glancing skywards. The sun doesn't look it's moved much, but the sky has dimmed, the shadows beginning to stretch longer. There's a slight hum beneath my skin, the same hum that always comes when it gets dark, like my nerves are waking up one by one. "How do we fix it?"

Midge sits in thought for a while, and that's good, because logically that means she has an idea. But then she just taps her chin and says, "I don't know."

"Oh, wow. You're so helpful."

Midge grits her teeth. "Says the one who was like, 'Oh, Midge! You saved us! How shall I ever repay you?' and all this stuff earlier today! Damn right, I'm helpful. More helpful than you."

I raise an eyebrow. "What the hell's that mean? I'm super helpful! You think your prophecy would've included me if I wasn't helpful? And I mean, I'm definitely not the one who got us arrested!"

"Jesus Christ, Grey!" yelps Midge, tossing her arms in the air before getting up and starting to stomp around like an angry sugar plum fairy. It's hard to take her seriously. Suddenly, she stops, pointing an accusing finger at me. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe I was just worried about you? I don't care if you're a walking invisibility cape, Grey, you can't just go waltzing into a crime scene like a...I don't even know, okay! I don't even know!"

My eyes narrow. "You were worried about me? Why the hell—"

"Okay, enough already!" Safiya intervenes, manually lowering Midge's arm. Safi rolls her eyes, producing her phone from her pocket to show us the screen. "See what time it is? I'll give you a hint. It's not scream-and-shout time. It's sneak-into-a-wolf-fight time. So gel your hair back and put your game faces on, because we have work to do."

I scoff. "When did you become a drill sergeant, anyway?"

"Hmm, I don't know. Around the same time you became a dumbass. Now let's go."

Dad wasn't lying. It's literally a bar called Lobo, smack between a Chinese place and what looks like a vape shop. The neon logo's a howling wolf with a scar in its ear. It's like they're asking the police to show up, I swear.

Safiya pauses a moment to examine its exterior: one broad, dusty window showcasing the ill-lit bar already filled with people, the old brick that's crumbling at the corners, the vomit-colored door. Her judgement made, she makes a displeased noise in her throat and practically kicks the door open, striding in with a flip of her ebony hair.

The scruffy-looking guys at the bar glance up from their drinks, let out a chuckle, and bury their faces in their glasses again. Safiya sneers at them, then strides right past the billiards table and to the bartender, who she calls over with a low whistle.

I sigh, taking in a long breath of the thick, cigarette-scented air. Somehow, I know it's going to be an extremely long night.

When I look over at Safiya, she's clearly struggling and she clearly hates that she is. She keeps trying to milk the bartender guy for info, but he just shakes his head at her. I hear him say, "You've got the wrong place," at least three times in one thirty-second period.

I tell Midge, "Stay here for a second."

She doesn't argue, but when I look at her, her doubt's written all over her face. I try to act like it doesn't bother me, approaching Safiya and the bartender.

I have to speak loudly to be heard over the music, even though I'm less than five feet apart from the both of them. "Alright, Buster. You've got a sign with a howling wolf on it and your whole bar's literally called Lobo, which I'm pretty sure means wolf in Spanish or Portuguese or something. You can't tell me you haven't got a good fight going on somewhere around here. So why don't you be a good fella and show us where it's at? Don't want to make Alvanor's son upset, now do you?"

The bartender's hands have started to shake. He repeats, startled, "Alvanor? You're Alvanor's son?"

I flash him a fanged smile. "Yours truly. Now quit lying or I'll..."

I glance at Safiya, who mouths Eat your soul at me.

Dear God, no. I'm not saying that. It goes against every one of my values and would be frowned upon by the entire demon community. I'm not saying that. I'm not—

"Or I'll eat your soul," I say, suppressing a grimace. For the price of my dignity, the guy lets out a quiet, terrified yelp. "Mmhm," I go on, aware that I'm just milking it at this point. "Delicious. Souls."

"Yes sir," the guy says, stepping out from behind the bar and gesturing for us to follow him. "Terribly sorry about that."

Midge joins us as the guy turns a corner, opening the door to a dim staircase that smells strongly of alcohol. "Were you really going to eat his soul?" she whispers.

I just glare at her. It seems to shut her up.

The bartender leads us all the way down the staircase, and even before I see the room, I hear the cacophony of a ton of voices all clamoring over each other. I consider turning back, but then the bartender's like, "Please, let me know if you need anything else," and then vanishes back up the stairs.

I swallow. Safiya, Midge and I all make eye contact to assure that this is the point of no return.

We enter.

Just as I thought, there's got to be over one hundred people here, all squished together around a cleared off concrete fighting ring. They're shouting and waving money in the air, pushing nearer to the edge to get a closer look. From my vantage point, I can't see what they're all looking at, what's in the ring, but I have more than half a guess.

Over the noise, Safiya shouts to me, "So what's your plan, demonboy?"

Ah, right, my plan.

I turn to her. "I was supposed to make one of those?"

Midge groans. "We're all going to die."

Safiya squints at me, then sighs like she knows she shouldn't have expected anything else. "Just follow my lead, okay? And you're Alvanor's kid, for God's sake. You noticed. The name's important around here; use that to your advantage."

I nod, and then Safiya takes a step forward, melting into the crowd. Midge grabs my hand, and I don't have much time to think before she pulls me after her.

The whole experience is pretty jarring. Every inch of me is being touched by someone else, and I close my eyes, hoping it will all end soon, but when I open them again there's just a bunch of angry faces and clenched fists. Sweat and blood sting in my nostrils, my shirt sticking to my chest. I don't care if my dad used to dominate these places; all I want is to leave.

But I know that's not happening, not until I get what I came for.

When Midge and I find Safiya again, she's somehow made her way to the front, leaned up against the railings. I hear the growling and the snapping and the tearing before I even see it, and somehow the sounds are even worse.

It's not...okay.

In the ring are these two wolves, both rather huge. One's white, yet its fur is strung with crimson blood in more than one places, two mismatched eyes glaring out above a bleeding snout. The other one is smaller but just as vicious, a tawny wolf that despite its limp manages to lunge and pin its opponent to the ground.

It's a show. A show of teeth and blood, a show of whose bite can pierce the deepest, whose claws can slice the furthest. And, yeah, it's not okay.

How could my dad ever stand this? They're killing each other.

But for some reason, I'm the only one who's uncomfortable. Safiya says, practically in my ear, "I don't see the one who was on the news. They must have caught him."

I swallow back my unease. "What do we do, then?"

Safiya doesn't get to answer, because then there's a guy behind us, a tall lumberjack-looking dude (no, really, he's got the plaid and the beard and everything) that I would assume is a werewolf if I didn't know any better. He doesn't have the smell though, and I just get the human vibe from him. He gestures at the fight and asks us, "Who y'all betting on? There's a ton going for the gold one, but they don't know."

Midge glances up at Mr. Lumberjack in barely contained fear. "They don't know what?"

"The white wolf there, they call him Bullet because he's so quick and brutal. He's been in the business since he was a pup, and from what I've heard, barely anyone's defeated the guy."

"Bullet, huh?" Safiya repeats, glimpsing back towards the fight. Mr. Lumberjack's not really wrong, either. Bullet has a hold on the tawny wolf now, his jaws clenched around his opponent's neck. The gold one's making an awful baying noise now, an almost humanoid wail. "That does sound pretty brutal. Like the one that attacked at Peachtree earlier."

Safiya, the clever little bloodsucker.

Mr. Lumberjack rests next to us, leaning his arm on the railing as he downs about half of his beer in one sip. He sighs and says, "Yeah. Heard about that, but I don't know how it even happened. The wolves here...they don't just escape like that. And even if they did, they'd be smarter than to attack a human on the streets."

"Oh?" I press. "What have you heard about it?"

Mr. Lumberjack looks around to make sure no one's listening, then leans in closer, which I don't want him to do because his breath smells like fermented barf. Seriously. My dad liked this place? "They were giving the wolves a drink of water. You know, just before training. Then this guy goes all berserk. I don't know much else besides that. The trainers don't wanna talk about it."

"They caught him, didn't they?" Midge asks.

Mr. Lumberjack nods. "Yes ma'am, they did, and they'll probably be putting him down. Who knows. Maybe it's rabies."

It's not rabies. Not if it's messing with the vampires, too.

Mr. Lumberjack goes back to his beer, and I just shake my head. None of this is adding up. It would make more sense if someone was hiring these people, or, yeah, if it was rabies. But if it's not any of that, what is it? A bunch of non-humans going rogue for no reason...no one would do that. Not this day in age.

I'm standing there, sort of zoning out as I'm mulling this over, until Midge grabs my arm. "Grey!" she wails.

"What?" I yell back.

"Duck!"

"Duck?"

I'm trying to figure out what ducks have to do with this, but then Midge just yanks me down to the floor, and I watch in a mix of amazement and pure horror as the gold wolf sails over the railing and over my head, growling and snapping its jaws.

No kidding, it lands on Mr. Lumberjack, and I look away as there's a lot of screaming and squelching and other not-so-pleasant sounds.

People are going crazy, running this way and that, trampling each other trying to get out. I'm still on the ground beside Midge, covering my head, muttering about a thousand prayers and a thousand more curses. I always end up here, dealing with some crazy bastard who wants to eat me. You'd think I would have learned by now.

"Where's Safi?" I manage to yell over the echoing screams. I risk a look around, but I can't see any immediate danger. The wolf's out of view, leaving a bloodied and mangled Mr. Lumberjack lying still on the ground. My stomach lurches, and I squeeze my eyes shut again. "We have to get out of here!"

"I'm right here!" Safi snaps, and I follow her voice, looking above me. She's standing there, her hands extended towards the two of us, her expression both vexed and concerned. As we take her hands, she pulls Midge and I to our feet. "There's no way we're making it out through the staircase; there's too many people. Our best bet's—there."

She swivels and points at a window across the ring, at least a foot or two above our heads. I look at her, dumbfounded. "There's no way. We'll be dead before we can even get it open."

"I don't know about you, but I'm not dying here!" Safiya yelps, fisting her hands. "Not here and certainly not at the hands of a werewolf. Now are you helping me, or not?"

I sputter, but Midge just says, "Yes," and starts sprinting for the window. I glance back at the clamoring crowd behind me; the tawny wolf's dragging people away one by one, silencing their screams with open jaws. It dawns on me that I don't see Bullet anywhere. Goosebumps rise on my neck.

I swallow, and realize Safiya's right. I can't die here. I've got more in me than that.

I turn and head for the window. Safiya and Midge are standing under it, Safiya trying to jump and reach the ledge, Midge with her wand pointed towards its glass.

"Grey, help me!" Safiya orders, and though it's a little bit awkward and I don't exactly want to, I bend down and grab her by the legs, hoisting her up. With a grunt of effort, she pulls herself up onto the ledge. "Can you break it, Midge?"

Midge doesn't reply, she just smiles, giving a jerk of her wand. Safiya ducks as the glass explodes inwards in a shower of shattered shards and warm night air.

"Hey! Maybe you're not so bad after all!" Safiya commends, and vanishes out into the night without so much as a second thought. Of course.

I turn towards Midge. "I'll hoist you up, alright? Ready?"

"Grey," she says, and it's the way she says it that scares me, how it's slow and cautious, how she shakes her head as she does.

That's when I hear it: the low growl behind me.

Hell. Hell.

"It's okay," I tell Midge as I turn and face the wolf before me. He must've noticed us after the window broke; he approaches me now with careful, leisurely steps, his lips pulled back to show a set of glimmering, bloodstained fangs that are thirty times scarier than mine will ever be. "I've got this under control."

The shadows snake towards me, on my command. I pull them up into my palm, a gun cementing in my grasp. I can't make silver bullets out of shadows, but regular bullets should hurt, too. Hopefully. If not, both Midge and I are dead.

Werewolves aren't usually violent. It's just that this guy has been trained to be.

He lunges, his jaws open, and my finger tenses on the trigger—yet never pulls it.

There's a flash of white, and Bullet tackles him to the ground, the two wolves growling and rolling in a heap on the floor in a way that would almost seem playful if they weren't giant wolves trying to kill each other.

I stagger backwards, my gun still clenched in my hands. "What the...hell?"

"I don't know!" Midge yells. "I don't know, but let's go, okay! Safiya's waiting and if we wait another second we'll be killed!"

I agree with her, so I do as she says and help her up to the ledge. She clambers to safety, offering a hand down to pull me up.

And I'm going to take it, but then there's a whine behind me, a beg for help, painful enough that it draws me to a pause. Midge is screaming at me, but it all seems to drown out when I turn and see Bullet, the wolf's teeth sunk into his back, blood steadily turning his white fur red.

I'm so stupid. Why am I doing this?

I bring my gun up, point it, and pull the trigger before I can give myself a reason not to.

The tawny wolf's thrown back by the force, releasing Bullet. I watch as the tawny wolf licks helplessly at the wound in his chest, before casting me a fearful look and limping away with his tail between his legs.

I watch him go, listening as the heartbeat in my chest steadies itself.

I'm about to collapse from relief right there, but then Midge says from above me, "Look."

"Look at what...wait, it's...a kid?"

No kidding.

Where Bullet just was is some boy who probably just turned fifteen, if I had to guess, passed out on the concrete. His clothes and face are smeared with dirt and blood, his hair as white as his fur had been.

I stare at him, then up at Midge. "Midge, it's a kid. Bullet is a kid."

"I see that it's a kid!" Midge says. Then she says what I was afraid she'd say: "We can't leave him here. Come on, pick him up. I'll help you get him out the window."

"You're kidding right?"

She cocks her head at me, one pink eyebrow risen.

Okay. She's not kidding.

Muttering words of indignation to myself, I stomp over there and pick Bullet up, carrying him over my shoulder. Honestly. I carry Midge once and now she expects me to just be the carrier of everything, every person, all the time.

He's light, though, so it's fine.

I don't get how someone so small could be...well, you know, Bullet. Quick and brutal, as the late Mr. Lumberjack said.

It takes about five minutes, but we manage to get outside safely, Bullet in tow. It has to be late night by now, the sun long having set. The three of us, plus the sleeping werewolf kid, stand in an alleyway at close to midnight, and even if we just escaped a psycho wolf, I still feel like there's danger everywhere. I just want some tea.

Safiya nudges Bullet with the edge of her heeled shoe. "Who's the kid?"

Midge and I say at once, "Bullet."

Safiya's eyebrows jerk upwards. She looks from us, to the kid, then to us again, then asks, "Is he dead?"

I frown at him. "Hopefully not?"

"That means you don't know."

"Yes. That means I don't know."

Safiya gestures at him tiredly. "What are we supposed to do with him, then?"

Exhausted, I sink down to a seat, not even caring that I'm leaning up against a dumpster.

"I have no idea."