Chapter 1
CH1
Karen had always known there was magic in the world. A spark glowing like an ember inside of her, nestled down beside her heart. When she walked over the dingy sidewalks in the city, humming long forgotten songs from her childhood, she could feel that same energy. It clung to the periphery of the world around her, blurry at the edges.
It wasn’t in the crumbling gray edifices of the buildings she passed, or the plate-glass windows that threw back her cold reflection. It was in the ivy that fought to climb up over the wrought iron fences along the streets, in the persistent blades of grass that made their home among the cracks in the sidewalk. When she passed anything green and living she could feel it call out to her. Out of the corner of her eye she sometimes thought she could see plants twitch to life, the verdant colors suddenly brighter for a moment, golden heads of dandelions turning in her direction as though the blonde locks flowing down her back were actual rays of sunshine.
With this knowledge of magic also came a deep sadness. She soon realized no one else could feel it. Certainly her angrily bellowing father didn't feel the pulsing life of the natural world around them like she did. To other people the city was just an industrial hellscape to be endured. Frowns constantly pulled at the corners of their mouths, a blue sadness enveloping everyone she came into contact with. They walked to work with heads down, never seeming to feel the warmth of the sun, never seeking out the little patches of nature sprinkled throughout the city.
She supposed it was a good thing her father couldn’t be bothered to pay her any mind, that he kept his distance. Loneliness was a small price to pay. He wasn't a gentle and loving man, his soul a withered thing, beaten down by years of bitterness. The only passion inside of him was rage, and even that only surfaced when Karen made the mistake of asking about her mother.
Karen had no memory of Demeter, just a faded Polaroid found in the back of an old jewelry box, a single name written in sharpie across the bottom. The smiling woman looked so much like the face she saw in her own bathroom mirror, waves of bright blonde hair, bottomless blue eyes. That same spark of magic was glinting in their depths too. Karen was certain that the woman had loved her.
She felt closest to her mother when walking through Central Park, the tree branches dancing in the breeze, ducks squawking in the boat pond, rows of spring flowers bowing briefly to her as she passed by. Sometimes she even fancied that her mother spoke to her, the soft and melodious voice of a woman floating by on a warm draft of air, the feel against her skin like the gentle caress of warm hands.
She could feel her mother in the dappled sunshine falling on her face. The park was vibrant, sounds of laughing children carrying bright and clear across the meadow-like clearings. She never felt alone here, even though she spoke to no one, it was like she was surrounded by a huge extended family, the faint tendrils of magic collecting into a messy tangle of warmth around her.
She liked to wander into the more secluded areas of the park. She never found it odd that these places were so devoid of people, that the plant life looked strangely untamed. The incongruity struck her as beautiful. Today wasn't any different. The moment she stepped into the spot calling her name, all the sounds of the city fell away, muted as though passing into a soundproofed room. A small grassy clearing right in the middle of a wobbly circle of trees was lit with sunshine. The golden rays filtered through the leaves above, leaving a mottled pattern on the ground.
In minutes she was spread out on the soft grass, hair fanned out like a halo. The messy tangles of magic she always felt in the park finally finding some pattern and coiling around her.
Eyes fluttering shut, she drifted, the beginnings of a peaceful dream settling around her. It was always the same, the warmth of unconditional love, the brightness of her mother's smile. She'd found a ritual, one that made her feel like she understood all the strange things happening around her. But her drifting was jerked to an abrupt halt by the suddenly urgent voice of her mother, more tangible than ever before. A single word quivered against Karen’s eardrums. “RUN!”
Her eyes snapped open, sitting up to search for the source of danger, but it was too late. Three men were slipping quietly into her haven. They wore predatory smiles, one man fingering the sharp edge of his bowie knife. She knew who they were, not their names or histories, but the vile deeds painted across their faces.
They were spoiling this place, their dark presences sapping all the warmth from the air. She called out in indignation, the heat of it rising up through her, “What are you doing here?”
It was a mistake, all three pairs of eyes trained on her, lighting up with a wicked kind of joy. She could see the evil swirling inside of them, the lack of concern for human life. To them, she was nothing but a woman to be taken advantage of, a soft thing to crush and tear apart for their own amusement. She heard it again, the firm and adamant voice of her mother. “Run!”
-
Frank felt it the moment she passed into the shimmery borderland between earth and the underworld. He’d been feeling it for years, her daily jaunts to the park, the quiet hour or so she spent in limbo before vanishing for another day. He was tied, by some magic even he didn’t understand, to all the entrances to hell. Thousands of souls a day passed through the portals, and it was usually a one way trip, but her softly glowing presence always mysteriously tripped back into the world of living.
He’d grown used to it, the little clench in the pit of his stomach when she appeared. The hour she always spent dreaming was the closest thing he had to a moment of peace in his day. All of the city's anguish roiling around him was beaten back, muted to a pleasant degree. If he concentrated, he could sometimes see her faint outline, never really able to make out any details, just a mass of yellow hair, limbs spread out on the forest floor.
Sometimes her timing was bad though. Like today for instance. When she’d popped across the border, relieved joy radiating out from her like waves of heat, he'd been honing in on a serial rapist. The man was nearly in his crosshairs. Well, not literally in his crosshairs. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d used a gun to dispatch scum like this. It wasn’t really necessary, the power of barely contained rage coursing through him like a swollen river. A flick of the wrist and the concentrated stream of unadulterated vengeance would slam into the offender like bolt of lightning. It was similar to the method Frank’s prick of a brother used to dole out his petty punishments, but Frank liked to think his own brand of killing lacked the particularly arrogant flair that Z’s had.
Unfortunately, the woman’s poor timing shattered his concentration, and he blinked, for half a second. The man disappeared, his despicable thoughts fading away into a cacophony of a thousand other voices. Concentration broken, Frank put his coffee down and sat back in the little wrought iron chair, resigning himself to an hour of foreign-born pleasant thoughts. Brightly colored shapes and lilting melodies filled the mystery woman's consciousness, making his own eyes feel a bit heavy.
A spike of adrenaline shot through him unexpectedly, jolting him back to his senses. She was terrified, her heart thundering in her chest, breaths coming short and fast. Frank shot up, the little table in front of him skidding across the sidewalk. He wasn’t sure, but something told him he had to be where she was. To the other surprised patrons of the coffee shop, it seemed as though the dark stranger simply stood up and vanished into thin air, taking with him the aura of darkness that had been hanging over all of them, the very memory of his presence fading almost immediately.
Frank strode purposely through the park, headed for the southern Entrance. The closer he got, the more clearly he could hear a faint yet ominous chattering. His infernal nieces were huddled around the portal’s entrance, eyes wide with excitement. They all three whirled to face him, Atropos holding a glowing piece of thread in one hand, her cruelly sharp sewing shears in the other. The thread slowly unwound from around her sister Lachesis’s midsection. Clothos was off to the side, looking as though she were fighting sleep as usual. He groaned as he approached them. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Atropos sneered at him. “What do you think we’re doing?” She rolled her eyes, an affectation she’d picked up recently. It was just an added layer of torture that his brother had foisted these three girls on him, infinite power flowing through their veins, often as fickle as the teenage girls they were presented as. Deceitful illusions to hide their startlingly hideous forms from mortals.
They were supposed to share the burden of their responsibilities equally, but Frank was aware that Atropos called the shots. He gave her an icy stare, his jaw clenching. “Not this one, Attie.”
She liked the pet name, smiling sweetly at him. Snicking her silver shears playfully in the air, she said, “You can’t tell me what to do. Only my dad can.”
He sighed, fighting the urge to throttle the deceptively innocent looking little creature. “I know that. I’m asking you.”
Atropos smiled again, this time turning to Lachesis. “What do you think, Lacey?”
Lachesis shrugged, clearly uninterested and dreamy as always, picking through the tangled knots of thread twisted all around her body. “It’s up to you.”
Frank closed his eyes, listening for the whisper of souls in the city once again. Searching through the pulsing waves he found what he was looking for. “There’s a bar fight on Bleecker street that’s about to turn ugly… if you’re interested.”
“Fine.” Atropos dropped the shears back into her bag, flicking the glowing thread back at her sister. “This was boring anyway. Come on, let’s go.”
And with that she flounced away, a movement she’d no doubt recently acquired. He’d been dealing with the three sisters for eons, and he truly had no power over them, but he’d learned over the years that they had no firm attachment to anything, and distraction was the best method of getting what he wanted. He couldn’t believe that three such changeable beings had unfettered control over mortals’ fates.
The blonde woman was safe, for the moment. Even distracting the three fates wasn't always enough to ensure someone’s life. He had to work fast.
Frank felt her on the other side of the trees, adrenaline making her shake with the desire to run. He ducked through the shimmering air and came face to face with three black-souled men, the murderous grins on their faces immediately morphing into trembling fear. Frank felt the corner of his mouth twitch up. He was going to enjoy this this.
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