6. Sloan

CHAPTER 6

Sloan

C learly, Daisy is as excited about the prospect of working together as she is, but at least Sloan had the courtesy of not asking the council if she can switch partners like it was a high school lab assignment.

Sloan and Daisy have always very much existed in different social circles. Sloan doesn't even frequent the Bittersweet Acorn. Not because it's beneath her or anything, but because she simply has no desire to go there. At least, that's what she tells herself. She prefers martinis, Manhattans, and quality wine over rum and Cokes or vodka cranberries. Essentially, more luxury, less pub.

Having spent most of her life with a silver wand in her hand, it's hard to feel comfortable in places like the Acorn or around people who frequent it. Her expensive clothes and shoes—that probably cost the same as one staff member's bi-weekly pay—mean she'd stand out like a boil on a forehead there. People's eyes regularly follow her in town, trying to figure out what the Wilks girl will do to wow them next. She's so tired of it. So desperate times call for desperate measures.

Sloan knows her reputation, and that of her family, but despite what everyone thinks of her, she's chosen to be involved in this event because she wants to change her image. After everything with Petra last year, Sloan wants to distance herself from her family name and be known as an individual. Not happy with her family's ties to Grog, the troll council representative who went rogue and poisoned Petra's grandmother Gladys last year, Sloan has spent the last year taking on projects that offer support to disadvantaged community members, the very beings Grog and his followers spent years doing whatever they could to keep separated from the rest of the community. Thus, most of her weekends are spent volunteering at one event or another, collecting donations, or offering one-on-one support. This time has helped her see where she can fit in and find value and purpose in her life, which is how she now finds herself forced to work with Daisy.

Despite Daisy's cold salutation, Sloan is excited to start on this project. She's spent much of her life with everything she could ever ask for being handed to her, and for once, she gets to do this on her own. A few months ago, Lachlan reached out with an opportunity to help coordinate a new event the council wanted to put on. This wasn't something she was being offered strictly because of her name. He specifically told her that the council had seen her work within the community and thought she would be a perfect fit for what they had in the works.

Eager to start planning, Sloan asks Petra for Daisy's number at the end of the meeting.

"Could you not ask her for it yourself?" Petra questions.

"I could, but I'm guessing from the lack of excitement she showed upon learning we were working together that she may not be so quick to agree to share any personal information."

"Can you blame her?" Petra asks boldly.

Sloan tilts her head and narrows her eyes as she takes Petra in. Petra leans back, broadening her shoulders, signaling she isn't afraid of Sloan.

Sloan begins to widen her stance as if preparing herself for a battle but stops herself. That train of thought is from the old Sloan, the one who would willingly show Petra who she's dealing with. But she's not that witch anymore. Or at least she's trying not to be. So instead of snapping back, she smiles as pleasantly as she can manage, hoping that Petra will agree.

"I'm not sure what Daisy's issue is, but I am genuinely excited about this project. I think it would be good to have your endorsement. It may help encourage Daisy to cooperate," Sloan responds, trying to keep her tone agreeable.

Petra stares at her, eyes narrowing, before they cut to Lachlan, who stands nearby, choosing not to engage in the conversation. Some silent conversation passes between them.

"Look, I'm not asking for secrets. All I need is her number so I can try to arrange our first meeting. I would appreciate your assistance," Sloan pleads.

Lachlan nods at Petra as if she, the Premier Witch, needs his permission. It's laughable, really. She could wipe out this entire town with a thought if she so pleased. A Premier Witch needs no one's permission or approval.

"Fine. Give me your phone."

Pulling her phone from her back pocket, she unlocks it and hands it to Petra. Within seconds, Petra hands it back, saying, "I know you helped Lachlan and me last year, which I appreciate. But I want to be perfectly clear: Daisy is my best friend. No, she is my sister. If you do anything to hurt her or cause her trouble, I will end you." Sloan starts to smirk, finding the threat humorous. Taking the few short steps needed, Petra closes the gap between them. She lowers her voice menacingly. "And you better believe I now have the power to do it. Prove to me that we were right to trust you."

Sloan's throat goes dry. Well then .

"Got it. I will cease to exist."

Sloan stands quietly as she watches Petra turn and extend an arm to Lachlan, who takes it with haste. He pulls her into him and kisses her forehead before they port themselves out of the room.

Standing alone in the council room, Sloan looks around, taking in what could have been hers if she had cared enough about it a year ago. Would she have liked to be Premier Witch? Probably. Maybe. The power that comes with it is very tempting. But the corruption and sense of self-importance that her parents would certainly encourage weren't for her. Is the supernatural council helpful in allowing all beings to co-exist? Absolutely. Do they need to have the sheer level of power that they do? Maybe not. It's no wonder Grog became power-hungry and tried to use it to his own end. Sloan concedes that it would be hard for anyone not to succumb. And her? With her family and their needling ways? Oh, that would definitely be the way she turned to forever please her parents.

So she made the wise decision and effectively removed herself from the competition—not that there was a competition to begin with. Sloan only had to wait and see if Petra would fail, and the fact that some of the council members thought she would demonstrates that they didn't know who they were facing.

Sloan glances at Premier Witch's seat as she turns away and exits the room. On nights like tonight, she wishes she could port, but that's a skill designated for council members only.

Her phone vibrates in her purse. Pulling it out, she sees multiple messages from Franny and Gwen in their group chat.

Franny

Hear you're working with that Hale witch

Gwen

What? Eww. Why?

You know her parents just got wiped, right?

Franny

Yeah. Everyone is saying she should be next

But Petra won't let it happen.

Gwen

That's a shame.

It wouldn't be a loss, that's for sure.

Sloan's eyes roll so far back in her head that she's confident she sees literal brain cells dying from these messages. These two exhaust her, and lately, the more time she spends with them, the more she realizes she doesn't want to be around them. Tossing her phone back in her purse, leaving the messages unanswered, she climbs into her silver SUV and drives the route back home. Her home. Not her family's. Hers.

She pulls up out front of the small stone cabin, surrounded by trees and sounds of the night. She steps out of her vehicle and removes her heels, placing a hand on the open door for balance. The ground is cool in the early fall night, but feeling the connection to the earth below and the sounds above is worth it. With her heels held in one hand, she walks barefoot along the side of her cabin, following the path to the lake behind it.

The air is relatively still on this night, but the sky is clear. The stars above shine like beacons of hope, promising good fortune. Watching the moonlight dance on the water, she takes it in. Accepting whatever is coming her way with open arms. She remains standing there for a few minutes, closing her eyes, grounding herself, and allowing the day's stress to dissipate from her body. Her breathing becomes deeper and more even. Her shoulders fall away from her ears, and her magic softens, feeling like a gentle current rather than sparks within. Breathing deeply, she opens her eyes, turns back toward her home, and walks inside.

As she enters, she pushes her power out. The house responds, turning on the lights in the entry, living room, and kitchen. A fire erupts in the fireplace in the living room, adding an ambient glow and the comforting sounds of crackling wood.

She changes into pink sweatpants and an oversized white sweater that hangs off her right shoulder. She quickly rinses her feet in the tub, dries them, then makes her way to the kitchen and pours a glass of cold white wine. Taking her glass to the living room, she sits cross-legged on the couch, picking up the TV remote in her free hand. As she settles, she finds Toil & Trouble and begins catching up on the past couple of episodes.