2. Daisy

CHAPTER 2

Daisy

A few days later, Daisy is still walking around in a haze, mumbling to herself regularly about shitty parents and what a waste of time they are. Who needs parents? Certainly not her. She's been fine without them for two decades and will continue to be fine without them for many years to come.

Daisy loves Leeside, but living most of her life in the shadow of her parents and their actions means that she's always been somewhat of an outsider. Leeside residents don't easily forgive and forget despite saying everyone is welcome. She's always fended for scraps of friendship and belonging in her peer group.

As a young witch trying to come into her power and having her parents become the talk of the town, Daisy struggled to find her place. Other witches were forming their own makeshift covens, creating strong friend groups to help each other practice new spells and make new potions, but not Daisy. The attention her parents brought to their little family was more than enough to have her peers sidestepping her, leaving her out in the cold, and, for some, downright bullying her. One group in particular was ruthless. Daisy referred to them as the group of shitheads: Francesca Wardwell, Gwen Corrie, and the perfect princess, Sloan Wilks. Sloan and her troop of turds would corner her, chanting fake spells as they pretended to hex her. At the time, she feared she might grow boils or wake up to toads in her bed. They'd spread rumors about her and her family, slowly convincing their collective peers that Daisy was only biding her time until she could continue her parents' work and come after them. She's despised them ever since and has done her best to avoid as many interactions with them as possible throughout her life.

Of course, her peers didn't know that she never really had that kind of power to retaliate. Most witches and warlocks in Leeside have a certain power base that they can draw from to fuel and rejuvenate their power. While families like the Roses could draw from nature, Daisy's family was connected to fire, but given that fire wasn't always present, it meant their power was naturally weakened and, at the same time, more unpredictable.

Honestly, if it weren't for Petra, Daisy wouldn't be where she is today. It's because of Petra reaching out to Daisy that they even became friends to begin with. It's because of Petra and her tenacity that Daisy was hired at the Bittersweet Acorn, a local bar which also happens to be owned by Petra's now-husband, Lachlan. And now it's because of her that Daisy could see her parents again, even if it didn't quite go as well as she'd hoped. She's not angry at Petra for that; Petra couldn't have known. Even at thirty-one, Daisy is just happy to have a friend.

As she readies herself for another shift at the Acorn, she looks in the mirror, planning to give herself a pep talk to prepare for another night of drinks, darts, and nosy customers. Instead, she leans over the sink, examining the circles under her eyes that tell her how shitty she's been sleeping lately. She scrutinizes the paleness of her skin and chastises herself for the extra weight that sits on her hips now, thanks to eating her feelings these past few weeks.

She tries to call her power to glamour her appearance, as the customers always tip better when she puts more effort into her looks. But the normal electric bolt doesn't respond. In fact, she barely gets a violet spark. Magic has always been the one thing that has been consistent and stable, like home, even if it was never that powerful. It's welcomed her with lovingly open arms like a true parent should. Now, though? It hides from her like it was banished alongside her parents.

Magic can be such a fickle thing. Young witches and warlocks learn early on that their power responds to the owner's emotions and acts as a sort of conscience, preventing good witches and warlocks from misbehaving magically or reinforcing misdeeds for more morally questionable folks. It's reflective of the owner and who they are at their core. It can be more powerful when the owner is experiencing intense feelings or retreating inside them like a scared child seeking shelter. Its response varies depending on the person and what their power feels is most beneficial to protect the owner. Unfortunately for Daisy, hers has decided to retreat, meaning the spark that she can usually call on is currently no more than a faint puff before it goes out, making her abilities essentially useless.

Sighing, she turns and walks to her door, picking up her purse and coat along the way before exiting and locking the door behind her. She arrives at the Acorn a few minutes early and takes a moment to stand outside, gazing at the building. Daisy takes a deep breath, sharing a silent wish for tonight to be easy. She plasters a fake smile on her face and opens the door.

Upon entering, she sees Steve and Carey, the other bartenders for the night, already there. They give a small wave as she walks to the back. Daisy hasn't even started yet, and her mind is already wandering, ruminating, picturing Norma and Levi being put through the portal. She closes her eyes and tries to focus her thoughts. Giving her head a shake, she huffs out a breath and saunters back to the front, tying her apron around her waist.

"Hey, D. How you doin'?" Carey asks.

"Meh, I'm doing. Hoping it will be a quiet one tonight. How about you?"

"About the same," he replies before heading to the back for supplies.

She falls into the routine of cleaning, stacking, filling, and fake-smiling at every customer. Though a bit busier than she would have liked, the night passes quickly, and in what feels like a blink of an eye, she's heading home. Thankfully.

If she didn't need to work to pay bills, she would probably stay curled up under her blanket on the couch, which is exactly what she does when she arrives home at two a.m., still wired from all of the stimulation of working at a bar and needing to wind down. Daisy changes out of her bar clothes, grabs a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream, and curls up to watch the latest episode of Toil & Trouble , her favorite supernatural dating show.

The next morning, a cool fall breeze from the open window gently wakes her. She doesn't remember opening a window last night. She also doesn't remember finding her way to her bed. The last thing she remembers is Corey from Toil & Trouble trying to fight with Jax over Vera. She must have been more out of it than she thought she was. She climbs out of bed, throws a sweater on over the top of her tank top and shorts, and goes to the kitchen while rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"Good morning."

Daisy screams, jumping back. "Goddess on a fucking motorcycle. What are you doing here?" She holds her hand to her chest. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry."

"How the hell did you get in?"

"The front door," Stella, Daisy's ex-girlfriend, responds, pointing down the hall. "I used the spare key you keep on top of the door frame. You really should choose a more secure location, by the way."

"Noted," Daisy responds flatly. "Why are you in my house?"

"You called me, remember? Last night." Stella says, her eyebrow quirked suspiciously. "Are you okay?"

Daisy's lip quivers, threatening a waterfall of tears. She swallows. Holding it back. Why is that simple question— Are you okay? —always the one that breaks her? Why is it the one that shatters her walls, showing how not okay she is?

She straightens her shoulders, standing up straighter, resolving not to break. To not let Stella see her crumble.

Daisy steps into the kitchen properly, taking a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water from the fridge dispenser. She takes a seat at the dining table, facing Stella and her scrutinizing gaze. "I'll be okay," she replies, not sure she believes it.

Stella merely nods while continuing to assess her.

"So, refresh my memory. Why did I call you over?" Daisy asks.

"Honestly, not sure. You spewed out a lot of things on the phone, and it wasn't really clear what the problem was. You kept telling me that you wanted me here. But when I arrived, you weren't answering your phone to let me in—evidently, you had already passed out. I used the key, but, um, I had to break the charm on your door to get in. So you'll need to reset that."

Yeah, with her barely-there magic, she'll get right on that. She hated that magic could be so fickle—rather than rallying around her in a time of need, it chose to hide. A witch's power wasn't fully living, but it was perceptive. It could retreat inside its owner when it felt the witch might misuse it, or sometimes it would hide as a protective measure when the witch or warlock was under extreme stress. It could also react outwardly like Petra's magic did last year when it manifested as a shield around her. The general belief was that it hid to allow the wielder to have a clearer head to deal with their problems. Daisy, however, believed hers was hiding from her because it felt like being a prick, and really, with her luck, why shouldn't she lose the only thing she had left?

"So you broke into my house and did what exactly after getting in?" Daisy asks, agitated. She knows she's being unreasonable, and she doesn't mean to insinuate anything nefarious, but the words are out before she can stop them.

"Don't get pissy with me. You were the one acting all weird and begging for me to get here. I didn't know what was wrong and had to find a way in," Stella snaps back, crossing her arms over her chest as she leans against the counter. "I came in and found you on the couch. It looked like you were generally okay—not hurt, that is—so I helped you get into bed so you wouldn't wake up with a horribly sore neck. You're welcome, by the way. I then slept on the couch. I didn't try and take advantage of you, physically or materially, if that's what you're insinuating."

Daisy hangs her head. There was a reason things fizzled out with Stella last year. A big one was that Stella had a tendency to assume the worst of Daisy. Their trouble communicating meant that they fought more often than not. After the breakup, they decided they'd be better as friends, and clearly, Daisy, in some mentally drained stupor, felt that reaching out to Stella was the right thing to do. Now, though, she's wishing she could kick Stella out without causing any drama. Instead, she opts for trying to diffuse.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by that," Daisy says, her voice soft as she gazes at a spot on the table. "I've had a rough couple of weeks, and I guess I was upset last night. I just don't remember calling you, so I'm a little confused and trying to figure out what happened." She looks up and sees Stella's tense stance relaxing and her face softening, shifting from frustration to sympathy.

Stella pushes away from the counter and joins Daisy at the table. She reaches out tentatively for Daisy's hand, pausing with her hand suspended over Daisy's, waiting for consent. Daisy nods gently, and Stella's hand finds hers. It's warm. Comforting. Stella's magic reaches out, tickling her dormant spark, which sizzles like a fading sparkler inside her.

"No, I'm sorry. I should have asked. Do you wanna talk about what's wrong?"

"Nah. I think I just need some time," Daisy says, noting Stella's slight deflation, as though she's hurt that Daisy doesn't want to lay herself bare before her. They had never had that kind of relationship, so she was unsure why Stella would expect anything different. "Thanks for asking, though."

"Anytime."

"Look, thank you for coming over. I'm not sure what led to that call last night, but it's nice to know that even though we aren't together anymore, someone cares enough to check on me."

"Daisy, this entire town cares about you."

Daisy scoffs. "Hardly."

"Nope. You need to open your eyes to be able to see it."

My eyes are perfectly open, thank you. Stella moved to Leeside in her early twenties and has lived in a different Leeside from Daisy. Stella isn't the most popular witch, but she's up there. She's well-loved and has so many friends. Daisy, however, has always been the outcast. The not-even-a-second-or-third thought. That Stella could think the town cares about Daisy is so laughable that Daisy fights the bewildered giggle that wants to erupt from her chest.

"I'm serious. I see the way the people flock to you for help and advice. Every night at the Acorn someone is hanging on your every word. People smile when they see you. You light up a room, Daze."

Daisy scoffs. "You are clearly mistaken. What you see as people seeking advice are drunk patrons begging not to be cut off. People laugh when I enter the room." The whispers that follow her as she moves about the town are sometimes almost unbearable. Her family left a legacy for her, which she does not enjoy. She stuffs the thought of her parents down and locks it away in the chest with the rest of her feelings. "Anyway, I need to head out in a bit. Thanks again for stopping by," Daisy says.

She waits for Stella to push back, to demand that she stay. But she doesn't. Instead, Stella nods again, accepting the not-so-hidden request for her departure. She stands, brushing her hands on her thighs as she shifts on her feet. "You know how to reach me if you need someone to talk to."

"I do. Thanks."

Stella smiles weakly at Daisy before turning, picking up her coat, and leaving. Daisy sighs, relieved. She doesn't have anywhere to go. She never has anywhere to go but work, especially now that Petra is tied up with her job at the childcare, the council, and Lachlan.

She stands from the table, gathers some cheese and crackers, and curls up on the couch again. She finds her favorite show, Slayer Bites , a cheesy teen vampire hunter show, and starts watching it again from the beginning.

* * *

Dressed in dark jeans, an oversized white sweater, and black ankle boots, Daisy picks up her keys and wallet, and as she reaches to open the door, she feels the pull in her core as the world fades away. When her eyes open, she is standing in the center of the supernatural council chambers. It will forever baffle her brain how they manage to port people and why they do it without warning. Why don't they let people travel to the council office normally? Like, what's wrong with just driving to the chambers?

Once her eyes refocus and adjust to the change to shitty fluorescent lighting, she spots Petra and Lachlan along the bench with the other council members.

"Welcome, Miss Hale," Councilperson Clellugs, the goblin representative, says. "Please have a seat." They gesture to the chairs off to the side.

Daisy nods, shuffling over to a chair and sitting. Why does she feel like she's being sent to the principal's office after speaking out in class? Probably because the council is the supernatural governing body for Leeside and surrounding communities, and they control any consequences supernatural beings under their jurisdiction face. The council is made up of representatives from the nine most prominent supernatural factions within their community: witches, demons, goblins, vampires, trolls, faeries, gnomes, werewolves, and shifters. She looks up at Petra, trying to gauge if she should be worried about tonight, but her friend's face doesn't give anything away.

"Thank you for joining us. We have a few things we want to address tonight," Councilperson Clellugs begins.

"Okay."

"The first is that we are aware that Petra has talked to you previously about a consultation role. As a council, we feel that your unique experiences, from your family upbringing and community recognition through your work at the Bittersweet Acorn, where we hear you are well-liked, would allow you to be a wonderful addition in this role," Councilperson Clellugs tells her. "We recognize and apologize for the fact that you have faced challenges while growing up in Leeside. However, we feel that the unfortunate general sense of disconnect that you have felt within our community provides a much-needed perspective that we as a council need. You understand the importance of connection, community, and relationships more than most. We hope that your unique point of view will help in devising an event for the community that fosters a renewed sense of community for those who have been unwillingly cast aside much like you have.

"With that, the council would like to officially offer you a position as an event coordinator," Councilperson Clellugs concludes.

Daisy's head spins. This is all so much to take in. Recognition of her pain and history, a chance of a lifetime, an opportunity to use her experience to help benefit others, her current disaster of a life—she's speechless.

This should be an exciting opportunity. It should be taken as a chance to show the town of Leeside that she is a valuable addition and that she can help others like her. Instead, it fills her with dread. Hell, she can't even help herself. How is she supposed to help others when she can barely call herself a witch at the moment? She keeps telling herself that Petra wouldn't suggest her if she didn't think Daisy could do the job.

The council stares at her, waiting for a response. Oh shit . She's been sitting here silently for too long and hasn't responded. Did they say anything else after that little introduction?

Respond, you tool.

"Umm, yes…" Daisy stammers. "Thank you. For the opportunity, that is." She catches Lachlan failing to hide his snort at her response, and when she looks up at him, he's smirking like the shithead demon he is.

"We are happy to have you on board," Councilwoman Amare, the vampire representative, responds. "As for the other matter…" she says, looking down the table. "As you know, we agreed to the visitation with your parents last week. Unfortunately, that visit did not go as planned, and they have not been reformed. As a council, we have decided they are no longer safe in our community or any other. As such, an order has been passed to wipe their memories."

The air rushes from her lungs. The room closes in, and a buzzing noise fills her ears as she fully processes what they said. Not only are her parents trash beings who wanted to see her again just so they could use her, but now they are such a threat to the larger world that the council deems them unfit to know about their past abilities, transgressions, and…her. That final realization hits her hard. Her parents will no longer know who she is, or that she even existed. They've effectively made her an orphan with that single decision.

Her hand finds her chest, gripping her shirt tightly, as an unbearable ache builds where her heart should be. Sucking in a breath, she tries to calm herself and ease the pain enough so she can get through the rest of this meeting. She looks to Petra, who, while trying to keep her expression neutral, is clearly fighting back regret and sadness. This couldn't have been an easy decision, but it doesn't make it hurt any less.

"We are truly sorry to have to share this news this evening. Your parents' situation aside, we, as a council, want to be clear that we recognize the harm you have experienced during your life because of misguided community reactions. We also apologize for the harm that the council had a role in, and we want to be clear in the sentiment that you, Miss Hale, are not your parents. You are not their story," Councilperson Clellugs says, surprisingly gently. "As such, with this offer of the coordinator position, we are looking for an organized event for other ostracized members of the community to meet, mingle, and build connections with each other and the larger community. We are considering hosting it six weeks from now, so you have a short time to organize. We can forward you a list of important attendees, the budget details, and your income for coordinating the proposed event."

Daisy swallows, her brain still swirling with too many conflicting emotions—excitement and grief and overwhelm—as she acknowledges her new reality. "Okay. Thank you, that would be appreciated," she replies, knowing she needs to remain collected and professional despite the cavern where her heart was.

"This would be a first step in fostering positive relationships within our community and supporting our members who may feel disconnected. Councilmembers Grace and Rose speak highly of you and your ability to organize, collaborate, and connect with others, so we hope to see those skills utilized here," Councilperson Clellugs adds.

"Absolutely. Thank you for the endorsement," Daisy says, nodding to Petra and Lachlan. "Will I have a team to help?"

She isn't sure, but she thinks she sees Petra stiffen at her question. That can't be good. Are they making her do this all on her own?

"You will have a partner, who you are expected to work alongside," Councilwoman Amare replies.

"When will I be able to meet them?"

"Now," she hears a familiar voice say from the back of the room. Has this person been here the entire time? Daisy hesitates, not wanting to turn around, fearing that the owner of the voice is exactly who she thinks it is.

Heels click on the marble floor, getting closer to where she sits. At this point, Daisy refuses to turn and look. Please don't let me be right. Please.

"Hello, Daisy."

Fuck me with a fork.

"Sloan," Daisy replies flatly.

Sloan Wilks stops beside her, crossing her arms over her chest. She looks down at Daisy with a stupid smirk on her stupid, pretty face. Daisy's eyes travel down her body, noting how her tight, dark grey dress cinches in perfectly at her waist, giving her a gloriously disgusting hourglass shape that Daisy could only dream about. As her eyes find Sloan's again, she thinks she sees a flash of something that could resemble empathy, but she must be mistaken. Sloan doesn't care about anyone other than herself.

"Can I petition for someone else? Please. Anyone else."

"No, Miss Hale, you cannot switch your partner. We have purposely selected the two of you to work together," Clellugs says. Daisy deflates.

Councilwoman Amare continues, "You both have great skillsets that you will bring to this opportunity, and we think you will complement each other well. We know there is some…history between you two, but we trust you will find a way to work through it."

"Understood," Daisy replies, feeling admonished.

"If there are no other questions, we look forward to seeing what you two can put together."

"Thank you, again, for the opportunity," Daisy says before she feels the rushing, gut-pulling sensation of being ported out of the council room.