Black Magic

Chapter Nine

The first thing Kerani says when I answer her call is, "why haven't you been responding to my texts?"

Still in a crowded hallway as a plethora of mostly female students are heading to and from classes, I press myself up against a wall and tuck a strand of hair back with a sigh. "I was in class, Kerani. I don't need to be texting during lecture and give my prof another reason to hate me." My prof is a crone—literally, as in an elderly woman who was once High Priestess of her coven, and not any derogatory version of the word—with a particularly old-fashioned stance regarding spell creation and curses. Meaning she despises me.

Kerani scoffs, and I can almost see her perfectly; standing with a hand on her slim hip, tossing her hair over one shoulder, rolling her eyes at me. "Don't you have your magic bullshit class Friday afternoons? Do you even need to be in that class? I thought you were super awesome at magic."

"I need it to graduate."

"Whatever, your classes are over now, right?"

"Yes?"

A loud exclamation almost blows out my ear, but at least Kerani has the sense to move the phone away from her mouth as she starts off about how, "I knew she only had class until 3:30, I'm actually a good friend unlike some assholes—" There's the sudden sound of a scuffle, Kerani yelping, and what sounds suspiciously like a bird squawking before the noise stops.

"Hello, Des."

I roll my eyes, unable to keep from smiling. "Hi, Raj."

"So it's Halloween today."

"Samhain," I correct him reflexively—then groan when he snorts out a laugh. Some habits are hard to break. "Sorry. What were you saying?"

"Kerani says it isn't even Samhain yet, apparently that starts after sundown?"

With the halls beginning to clear out, I push myself away from the wall and start the walk back to my dorm. "Why does a shifter know more about my culture than I do?" Raj snickers and I grin at the phone. "I think she's right. But to the younger generation, the entire day is Samhain." We weren't allowed to call it Halloween—we would get in trouble at school for dressing up—so most witch kids just took to calling the holiday Samhain and celebrating it like humans when our parents weren't looking. More fun than honouring our Goddess and performing rituals.

"Semantics aside, today is Halloween. AKA the perfect night for us monsters to hit the town."

"We're doing what?"

"Going out! Remember that one club owned by that one shifter couple—yes, Princess, the lesbians, I know—well, y'know how supernaturals can get in at all ages? Since you two are woefully underage, that's the only place we can go! There'll be humans, though, and honestly they're the best at celebrating Halloween so it's more of a bonus than anything."

"You're bringing your seventeen year old sister to a club? With alcohol?"

Kerani scoffs in the background. I can almost see Raj shrug. "It's not like they'll serve her anything with those gangly teenager limbs of hers—ow, no need to elbow me, bony. Are you in? Ker has already decided you're in." Before I can say anything, he continues, "oh, and make sure you wear a costume. It's not Halloween without a costume."

I purse my lips. "I don't have a Halloween costume."

Another struggle, this one punctuated by insults from Kerani. Finally the sounds die down. "Don't you have a pointed hat?" Kerani's voice this time.

"Yes?" Traditional as they are, no witch is lacking in one. They're the standard garb for important social events. And a fashion statement for millennial witches, almost an accessory, which pisses off the older generations to no end.