Chapter 22 FightFlight

22

Fight or Flight

WITH BONNIE'S RECOVERY slowly but surely underway, Belle returned to work at Lunar sooner than planned. She had wanted more time, but the decision was mostly made in response to a carefully worded phone call from Jim, alerting her to the fact that Christopher was using her absence as the perfect excuse to ruin any and all of the shop's remaining charm. As a result, splitting her waking hours (and some of her sleeping ones) between two separate lives, the magical and the non-magical, proved immediately taxing all over again.

Belle knew she was behaving like a hag to everyone in her vicinity, could feel people treading on eggshells around her. But over two weeks into her mentorship, she was utterly exhausted, physically and mentally. Her hair was limp and unwashed, scraped back into a ponytail every day. Her skin was pallid, spotty and dry. Having moaned about the state of her appearance to her mother, Bonnie explained that it wasn't down merely to the lack of sleep. Draining her body of magic night in, night out would be taking its toll on every part of Belle's system, her powers strained and overburdened, like overworked, dehydrated muscles completing marathons on empty. Rune's revitalising potion had long since worn off, and she was too proud to ask for another batch. Her whole body felt bruised, tender to the touch. It would seem that compressing fifteen years of magical education into a few weeks was not the wisest choice a witch could make.

Ariadne had noticed, too.

"I mean this in the nicest possible way, but are you coming down with something? You look dreadful, babe."

"What?" Belle replied irritably. The night before's sixteenth moon had ended on a sour note with Artorius, his incessant encouragement rubbing her exhaustion the wrong way while she tried and failed to memorise omens of the tarot deck.

"Don't snap at me. As your friend, I'm just saying you look slightly like you've been dug up from the grave." Ariadne spoke with genuine concern, offering half of her banana as they put their coats on to go to work.

"I wish I had been. At least I'd get a decent sleep if I were dead."

"Let's do some face masks tonight. Drink some water. Maybe eat some vegetables."

"I don't want to do face masks," Belle snarled. "I'm knackered. It's taking all of my brain power to stop my eyeballs from falling out of their sockets."

"You should take a day off."

"I can't take a day off. Every time I'm not at Lunar, I come back to find Christopher has thought of all new wonderful ways to ruin something. Yesterday I discovered he's sacked the kids' entertainer, thrown away all of the arts and crafts supplies and swapped the entire Women's Fiction display for male CEO autobiographies," Belle ranted.

"All right. Jeez." Ariadne screwed up her face, looking at Belle with the expression of being stuck on a particularly difficult crossword. "I just feel like you're shutting me out. I barely see you as it is, and when we're both here, I can't do anything right."

Belle could hear herself being a terrible person, instantly regretting it, pleading with her mouth to stay shut. But she couldn't quell the sharpness. " You can't do anything right? My mum is still ill, and I'm worrying myself sick about her. Lunar is falling apart, and I can't figure out how to fix it. Rune is…well, Rune is Rune. Your guess is as good as mine what's going on there. As you just so kindly pointed out, I look a complete state and…" Belle flared with embarrassment, which only fuelled her flaming temper further. "And am I not allowed to keep some things to myself every now and again?"

Ariadne blinked at her. "Since when?"

"Since forever, probably," Belle said, unreasonably. "Maybe I don't need to tell you anything and everything that's going on."

"I never said you did. But it's kind of a given, at this point. Or so I thought."

"I've just been feeling differently recently. Is that okay?"

"Yeah." Ariadne swallowed, her voice very small. "Of course."

"Thank you. Okay. Have a good day." Belle grabbed her bag from the back of the door and shut it behind her, leaving Ariadne standing alone in the flat.

Of course, Belle felt like she might vomit at any moment for the rest of the day.

There was a tremor in her hands and no inclination to eat. She had achieved approximately nothing useful at Lunar all day because she'd spent the whole time hating herself and worrying that Ariadne would never forgive her. She felt terrible. She would buy a bottle of wine on the way home, some of those honeycomb things that Ari liked, a bunch of flowers to help her grovel for being such an arse.

And then there was the Rune thing. She'd assumed at first that not being able to stop thinking about the man was down to how much he'd infuriated her when they first met. Or the simple fact that he was her first real magical encounter. But there'd been plenty since, and still…Now was not a good time to be falling for somebody, let alone somebody like him. She could not have chosen a worse time or a more incompatible person. Not that that was what was happening here. Absolutely not. She could not and should not even be thinking about that with everything else going on.

Belle leaned heavily on her right hand, pushing up her face into her eye socket with an elbow propped against the till. The day's biggest challenge should have been ensuring that the paper Jack-o'-lanterns were matched up properly with the fairy lights beneath them, strung across the ceiling in a pretty sweep. In actual fact, staying awake was proving the much larger problem. It had taken her third cup of coffee to bring the realisation that she was wearing her jumper back to front.

"One too many last night, Belle? Right there with you, darlin'." Christopher's voice felt like a sledgehammer to the brain, snapping Belle out of her unsubtle nap. Worse still, he placed both his hands on her shoulders and squeezed them tightly.

Monica did a terrible job at hiding her disgust across the shop floor.

Belle grimaced a polite, tight smile, shrugging him off. "Just not sleeping too well," she said.

"Not pregnant, are you?" Christopher said, momentarily looking genuinely concerned. "Let me know before we get sucked into maternity pay. I'd get pregnant for that." He guffawed, glancing at Jim for camaraderie.

Jim looked baffled.

"Do you need something, Christopher?" Belle looked at him through pinched eyes, retying the bow around her apron to resist the urge to strangle him. Her tiredness had led her to bite even Ariadne's head off that morning, so she couldn't be held responsible for what might happen to Christopher. Her finger itched to send out some form of receding hairline spell.

"Just a catch-up with my diamond girl. I can't resist those jeans." He winked, making her skin crawl.

"I don't have the time or energy for pretending you're not grossly offensive today," Belle replied before she could catch herself.

Taken aback, Christopher's expression changed. He could normally rely on her to take it on the chin, to laugh along, to roll her eyes in an "oh you" polite kind of way. He mopped his forehead on his forearm, ran his tongue over his teeth, pushed back his oiled hair. "My office in ten." He clicked his fingers at the rest of the team. "I want to see everyone in there. Put a Closed sign up. Anyone who doesn't come armed with how they're pushing sales is going to need to explain in extraneous detail to me why they're so useless and why I shouldn't fire them on the spot." He stormed off without so much as a backwards look. Belle rocked back on her heels and stared fixedly at the spiral staircase while counting to ten.

"Belle…"

"Don't." She held up a hand to Monica. "I'm too tired for his shit." Then she instantly felt guilty, seeing the expression on her junior's face. "Sorry, sorry, sorry. It's been a long week."

"He gets more repugnant by the day," Monica said sympathetically, offering out the biscuit tin to Belle across the till. Belle nodded, stifling a yawn as she took a chocolate chip cookie. "Do you both have something you can bring to him?" she asked Monica and Jim. "It doesn't have to be great, he'll hate everything we say, anyway."

"We have a ton of ideas." Jim nodded, chewing on his pen. "But he's not going to like them. They're all lovely and charming, for one thing."

"Today's not the day for creative joy. Just lay down and let him bulldoze over us so we can get back to doing what actually needs doing. I've got this. Maybe."

IT WAS NO real surprise that Christopher gave less than zero concerns to everyone's overly long to-do lists, arriving late to the meeting that he'd demanded before launching into a miserable tirade about performance reviews and verdicts on Lunar being a directionless mess, with a need for corporate thinking. He visibly enjoyed dismissing each and every new idea that was brought to the table, grinning with untouchable arrogance as he did.

"What have you lot even been doing lately? Not working hard, that's for sure. All I'm seeing is a load of hipster guff. We're trying to make money here." He sliced one side of his hand onto the other palm for effect.

"I don't know how many times I need to tell you," Belle said, trying to stay calm, "the reason Lunar has been a community favourite for so long is the…the magic of it. And you're stripping every last bit of that away. The value is in the details that we've created, the special feeling when you walk through that door. Everything that you're dismissing."

"The only value we need to worry ourselves with is financial. You're already on thin ice, Blackthorn. Do not push me." Christopher pointed at her.

"Christopher, these are beautiful ideas and good investments," she argued back. "Violet would love them."

"My mother is not in charge anymore. I am."

"We're adding to the wonderful experience of getting lost in Lunar. It's supposed to make you feel something. It's supposed to take you somewhere when you step inside. They're supposed to feel—"

"Blackthorn, this is your last warning."

"But if you'll just think about—"

"Enough!" he roared, adjusting the cuffs of his stretched shirt. "I don't know who you think you are today, Belle, but I would like to remind you that I am your boss, and you need to learn to shut up when I tell you to."

The room fell silent. Belle pressed her lips together firmly. Hot tears prickled at her eyelids, threatening to show themselves in front of everybody. She picked at a cuticle mercilessly to distract herself and avoided glancing at Monica and Jim, who were both determinedly trying to catch her eye for some silent reassurance.

After wasting their precious time for almost an hour, Christopher left the room with a sniff and a "Back to it." He flipped open a pack of cigarettes as he shoved open the front door.

Belle speed-walked to the toilet before she finally let herself buckle. She angry-cried into her sleeve, digging the heels of her hands into her eyes to try and curb the onslaught. She'd be okay. Just a quick meltdown. Then she'd be fine.

She leaned her head on the toilet roll and let out a tiny exhausted roar of frustration. At Christopher, of course, but also at herself, her fight with Ari, this entirely terrible day. She was just so tired, and she didn't know how to cope with everything going wrong around her, whether magical or mundane. A shiver travelled down her back, fingertips tingling from picking at them insistently during the meeting.

There was a knock on the door.

"Mon, I need a minute. I'll be out in a sec."

She'd steal back her moment of solitude when she got home. Except she wouldn't be home for hours because she was heading straight to Quill Lane for Clairvoyancy study. Relentless. She wiped hastily at inevitable mascara trails, although they were probably the same colour as the dark half moons under her eyes, anyway.

"What happened?" Rune was sitting on the sink when she emerged. He sprang to his feet and came closer when she looked up, revealing tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes. She noticed him flare, as though to control himself.

Belle was too tired to wonder why on earth Rune was in the toilets at work. She didn't even have a snarky comment to offer about it. She sighed with acceptance that, of course, a warlock watchman was hanging out in the loo.

"What are you doing here?" she asked emotionlessly. Despite herself, she was pleased to see him.

"I told you I was upgrading the connection after what happened to your mother, keeping a closer eye. I knew something wasn't right."

Belle nodded with flat acceptance. She rubbed at her damp face.

"Why are you crying?" he asked gently.

"It's not a magic thing."

"Doesn't matter. What is it?"

"I've made a mess. Of literally everything."

"You're doing just fine." He reached out and wiped a tear from her wet cheek with his thumb. Both of them froze, taken aback by the gesture. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Sorry. Don't know why I did that."

Belle shook it off. "It's my arse of a boss. He's generally quite awful."

Rune flared another breath. "This is who made you cry?"

"Yes. It doesn't matter. It's a regular occurrence."

"What did he say?"

"The usual. He hates everything that Lunar is supposed to be. Despises everything that would add to the magic of it. Thinks I'm an idiot but also happens to call on me for anything and everything that ever needs doing to cover his own back. I don't think I've ever met anyone who disrespects women like he does, but he seems to hold a particularly special place in his heart for me. Anyway, do you need something? I've got a lot to do before I can go back to Arty's place." She couldn't have sounded more done with everything, resigned to being miserable for the rest of time.

"Where is he?"

"Arty?"

"Your boss. The guy who made you cry. Where is he?"

Belle looked at him blankly. "I think he's outside smoking. Why?"

Rune held her gaze for a moment longer. His expression stayed a picture of composure, but Belle noticed his jaw muscle tighten the tiniest amount. His fingers flexed, and a dusting of sparks fell from the tip of his thumb before he turned and exited.

"Rune?"

He didn't respond, simply carried on walking at a fast pace through the back of the shop and out onto the floor, the tail of his coat flying out behind him as he swept past the cookery section and down the spiral staircase at breakneck speed.

"Rune. What are you doing? Wait, hang on a second." Belle tried to keep up, grabbing her jacket frantically from underneath the till on the way through. This could not be good. Monica and Jim watched their boss sprint, with no explanation, hectically after an extraordinarily handsome, furious-looking man in a long leather coat.

Rune smacked the front door open with the palm of his hand before he took a moment to find what he was looking for. It didn't take long. Christopher was on the phone roaring with laughter, plainly and loudly discussing a woman standing only a foot away on her own break, who looked distinctly uncomfortable. He momentarily paused laughing, bemused as Rune approached.

"Nice coat, mate. You on your way to a séance? Bit of grave-digging, is it?"

Rune offered him a dry smile. "Christopher?"

Belle, catching up, reeled backwards from the scene and darted into the second-hand clothes shop to hide behind a display of fluffy Afghan coats and watched through the window, not daring to follow in case Christopher spotted her and connected her to Rune.

Christopher sneered. "Maybe. Who are you, mate?"

A second passed in what felt like slow motion. Before Belle could take a single step to stop him, Rune threw a clean, solid punch effusively into Christopher's left cheek, smacking the cigarette from his mouth and colliding directly with the bridge of his nose. There was a crunching sound as it connected. Bystanders gasped, pointing at the scene while keeping a safe distance. Christopher whimpered, cradling his broken nose, hunched over in two to cower away. Rune, shaking out the hand that had thrown the punch, shook back the hair that had fallen in his face to regather his composure.

"If you ever make her cry again," he said simply and slowly, "if you dare to even darken her day in any way…" He swallowed the end of his sentence.

Christopher nodded frantically, clearly clueless as to who Rune was talking about. Holding his bloodied knuckles, Rune calmly walked away.

"Haven't got a clue, have I?" Belle heard Christopher roar down the phone to his friend. "Some madman. Could be anyone." He gulped, dabbing at his mouth and leaving a bloody smear across his expensive shirtsleeve. "Could be a few birds. That one from last night, maybe."

Belle waited for Christopher to turn away before she made a swift exit, crossing the road into the lunchtime crowds and sprinting after Rune. She finally caught up with him, grabbing the back of his coat to spin him around.

"What is wrong with you? Are you completely and categorically insane? You just punched my boss."

"He made you cry," Rune replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Lots of people make me cry. I cry all the time! I cried at a donkey sanctuary advert this morning, are you going to punch everyone who mistreats donkeys?"

Rune raised a confused eyebrow. "I'd love to. And he deserved it."

"That's not…" Belle shook her head. "That's not the point."

"I could have done a lot worse."

It was true. It was a lucky turn of events that Rune hadn't decided to unleash any kind of vicious hex or nefarious curse instead of a swift punch.

"And am I supposed to thank you for that?" she shouted, disbelieving. "You can't just go around punching people who make me cry. Why do you care so much?"

"I'm supposed to be protecting you."

"From dark magic! Not from my boss when he embarrasses me in front of my colleagues. That one is for me to deal with and me only." She flared. "My non-wicche life absolutely does not need a watchman."

Rune looked taken aback for just a fraction of a second. "I see. Of course it doesn't." He was about to say something more, then thought better of it. His expression darkened. "Won't happen again."

"Right. It won't." She nodded. "Now I have to go in there, get back to work, act like everything is normal. Oh god…" Realisation dawned on Belle's face. "I bet Monica and Jim saw me legging it after you."

Rune didn't reply, busy examining her face with his gaze.

"You look exhausted. I'll make you something again to help."

"Why does everyone feel the need to keep telling me I look like garbage? I don't think I need any more of your help, especially if this is what it looks like." She gestured to Christopher, now on the inside of the shop window with two pieces of tissue stuffed up his nostrils.

Rune swallowed, then nodded slowly in defeat. "Fine."

"I'm sorry that all I seem to do is ask you to leave me alone, but once again, please, can you leave me alone? I'll summon you if I need you."

"But we agreed…You're not safe."

Belle turned to leave. "Oversee my lessons with Artorius, if you must. But that's it, no more involvement in my life." She had a final cross thought. "And don't use magic to transfer away, there are too many people around."

Rune shoved his hands deep into his pockets and gave her a quick, sullen nod. "You got it." He walked away with his head bowed.