Page 1 of Unmarked Magic

Unknown

The feeling had lingered with me for a while. A light tap on the shoulder forever dragging my attention back to it. The push-pull, the fire and ice. The stolen glances that went unnoticed.

But did they really?

Holding my tongue, I observed in silence, watching like one would a chess board, contemplating my next move.

Was it a deflection, or something else?

To intervene could be catastrophic. To not act could be just as costly. I shook my head, ridding the thoughts hellbent on churning my stomach, knowing this was not my pawn to move nor my rook to sacrifice.

As they left, I stood in front of it again. Something I’d done countless times, head tilted to the side, weighing up my options. One flick and everything would change.

But was it worth the risk?

Friendship. Love.

They say our heart will always find its counterpart, even if the timing is wrong.

The dull ache you can’t deny.

Was the evidence of such a thing staring me in the face? I wasn’t sure.

Boulders lay heavy on my shoulders at the weight of my decision. If I were correct, then maybe fate needed a helping hand.

Once again, I turned my back on it.

Because only a fool would fuck with fate.

Scarlet

FIVE YEARS PRIOR

“I thought I was the only one stupid enough to sit out here alone.”

I craned my neck to the deep voice coming from the bleachers I planned to sulk on. Because being dumped by my boyfriend on my birthday sucked hairy old man balls, and where else was I to go when all I wanted was to drown my sorrows with cherry cola in peace?

My answer. Right there.

The stranger sat where I wanted to. On the second to top level, in the exact spot I liked. Everyone had their quiet place where they gravitated to ponder life’s journey. And he was in mine.

Rounding the edge of the bleachers, I faced him directly, his whisky-colored gaze skipping over me momentarily before drifting away. I followed his line of sight to where signboards naming local businesses circled the field. Nearby, someone’s forgotten cap sat perched on top of a post, waiting for its owner to return and claim it. A home field wound tightly with small town roots.

I turned my attention back to him, his dismissal irritating me. A crescent moon cast shadows over his annoyingly attractive face. His dark hair was styled in an artfully messy way, and, paired with black jeans and a hoodie, it made him look like a handsome bad boy out of a romance novel.

I let out a huff of exasperation, deadpanning the stranger. “You’re in my seat.”

A thick eyebrow raised in amusement. “I’m sorry,” he said, sarcastically making a show of scooting two spaces to his right. He gestured to the now-vacant seat, the corner of his mouth lifting just enough for me to know I might live another day. “Didn’t realize I had to make a reservation.”

I rolled my eyes, trying not to show my unease at the stranger wanting me to join whatever this was.

He leaned back, resting his elbows on the higher level behind him. “I don’t bite.”

Clearly not. Or he wouldn’t make a remark like that in a town where vampires frequented daily. Because Cutters Cove had everything a sleepy town should live up to. Magic. Macabre. Mystery. Add vampires to the mix, throw in a healthy dose of wolfsbane, and Cutters Cove had all the ingredients of the next supernatural sitcom. The irony of it never wore thin.

As if to prove my point, a surly mist hovered over the field, lingering like a disease, its blanket unwavering in the calm that had settled over the town. Not a breath of wind brushed my neck, the night unmoving and peaceful.

That was until I ran into him.