The magical contract went into effect at eight this morning. Micah and Seraphiel both witnessed the transfer, making sure it passed to me with no issues. A wave of power washed over me, a subtle tingling in my limbs that felt less like a physical manifestation and more like an intuitive awakening of my magic.
Micah cursed under his breath while Seraphiel cheered, magicked himself into a Hawaiian shirt, and poofed out of existence. He mumbled something aboutbeachesorbitches. Maybe both.
It was really quite hard to say with the tequila bottle hanging from his lips.
Thirteen minutes after I was given the highest power of Cherub-kind, my first summons beckoned me. What followed was a hysterical series of pterodactyl screeches directed towards the Heavens, a garbled series of pleading ranging from, “I’m not ready!” to “Pick someone else!”
There were also a few panicked tears and a puff of my inhaler.
Cherubs can be asthmatic too, don’t judge.
Eventually, I pulled myself together. And by that, I mean I made it here, inhaler in my pocket and tearstains on my shirt.
Good days look different for everyone, fuck you very much. I’m in my hot mess era, and I am embracing it.
Collecting myself, I glance around and get my bearings. Instinct tells me I’m inside a home repair store on the outskirts of Boston, but even if my powers didn’t give me tracking abilities, I would’ve figured it out.
The number of people who’ve asked where they “paahked the caah” or complained about how “wicked haaht” it is outside is a pretty good clue.
The magic nudges me, pulling me away from my distraction. A matched couple feels like a rope binding my waist, tugging me along with a gentle encouragement. It’s not unpleasant, quite the opposite, but bile rises in the back of my throat anyway. Somehow, the gentle guiding touch feels more like a boa constrictor grip, coiled around my body as it squeezes the life out of me.
My hands tremble so violently I have to shove them into my pockets, and I close my eyes to focus on the sensation, surprised at how easy it is to follow the magic. I walk around the corner to the registers, the air hummingas I spot my targets. A soft glow dances around them, so faint it’s barely noticeable as it waves in its ethereal dance.
It’s only visible to me, and it’s the first time I’ve seen it in action.
My beacon.
It’s strangely familiar—comforting, even—and I take a moment to bask in its warmth before I focus on the couple currently bathed in its light.
Weathered golden skin ages the man leaning against the counter, making him appear years older than he is. No doubt, that tan results from working forDanny’s Roofing,which is printed across his neon yellow shirt.
Still, he’s handsome, with thick sandy blonde hair and a kind smile. Behind the register, a lady smiles back at him, her red braid a shocking contrast to the orange apron she wears.
I step closer, listening as they flirt. “What would I do without you, Mandy?” Her cheeks flush as she shuffles between her feet, nervously tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear.
“Probably use the wrong paint again,” she responds, and he tosses his head back in an exaggerated laugh that’s far too loud. You know the kind—the fake hilarity that people use when they’re trying to get laid.
Okay, they have a history.
Ignoring their surface appearances, I dive deeper into the heart of who they truly are. The familiar buzz of their souls makes the air go staticky as information crashes into my mind in a dizzying blur. Amplified far beyond my normal abilities, it takes a few seconds to make sense of it.
Human souls vary from light to dark, and Leonard’s is a nice pale gray. Not perfect, maybe the occasional cheating at poker night with his buddies, but overall, his moral compass is aligned in the right direction.
He’s forty-two, straight, and has been divorced for several years. There’s a teenage son in the mix, and from what I can tell, he’s a good dad. Most people would describe him as a nice guy.
And he’s got itbadfor Mandy.
Her soul is a couple of shades darker than his, but within the range that makes them compatible. Shy and withdrawn, Mandy is the more hesitant of the two. She’s younger than him at thirty-four, bisexual, with no marriages or children.
Oh, and her heart is a desolate wasteland of ruin, her past riddled with pain.
My attention shifts back to Leonard, pushing into the magic and pleading for guidance, but it doesn’t give me anything more.“It’s not a crystal ball,”Micah warned me, his perfectly sculpted nose up in the air.“You have to trust yourself to make the matches you believe will be harmonious.”
Giant middle finger to that guy, because I don’t even trust myself to cook dinner most nights.
Tools and supplies are dropped into crinkly plastic bags as the transaction wraps up. My window of opportunity isclosing, and a panicked noise leaves my throat. It’s like someone gave an elephant helium before it trumpeted, and should never,everbe repeated. Another rush of magic surrounds me as my glamour activates, making me less noticeable to passersby and hiding my bow as I summon it. Nocking an arrow, I take a deep breath and aim.
“You can do this, Az,” I mutter to myself. “Youcan.”
