Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I’ll give you the part you chose for yourself. The nosy neighbor.”

“Wanda, don’t do this. You don’t know what you’ve awoken in yourself. You’re going to need me to guide you.”

“And if I do, I’ll know just where to find you, Nathan.”

The sun blinded Nicholas when he opened his eyes. He blinked in irritation and absently wondered who the hell had sheer curtains these days before he registered where he was and what had happened to him. The nearest solid object to him (an ugly paperweight he wouldn’t be caught dead buying) became a projectile in his frustration, smashing through the front window as he screamed enough obscenities that even Mom would have raised an eyebrow. Agatha Harkness wasn’t known from hiding her bad language from her child and had even encouraged him to use it on occasion, but the litany of curses that escaped his mouth would have made a nun keel over- something that both his mothers would have no doubt appreciated.

He stomped towards the door and threw it open, making a beeline for the nearest person he saw, Herb, or whatever his name had been in the hex. The man’s eyes widened, and he almost lost a finger to the hedge clippers he was using, still obsessively trimming the damned things even after Wanda’s curse. “Hey, there, Nathan. You feeling okay today, man?”

Nick held up his hand to cut off whatever drivel was about to come out of his mouth next. “Shut up. How long have I been here?”

“What?” Herb asked obliviously.

“How long have I been stuck in this backwards ass town after the Scarlet Bitch fought me?” Nick restated through clenched teeth, valiantly ignoring the urge to uppercut his neighbor.

“You don’t remember?” Herb questioned, a confused crease in his brow. Nick thought it would have been obvious, but perhaps the mortals were too simple-minded to understand that he hadn’t been himself over the past however-long he’d been cursed.

“Catch me up.”

“About three years.” The other man answered, finally.

Nick could feel his face fall. “Three years.”

He took a few measured breaths in an attempt to calm himself. “Wanda.” He growled.

Before him, Herb grimaced. “We try not to say her name around here. It can set a few folks off.”

“Because you’re cowards,” Nick said with a roll of his eyes. “She’s not Voldemort, saying her name isn’t going to magically summon her.” A more pressing through occurred. “What have I been doing all this time?”

“Well,” Herb started. “You’ve mostly been a good neighbor. A bit lax with your boundaries, sometimes.”

Nick glared. “Call me nosy, and I’ll punch your teeth in.”

“Right. You haven’t been yourself for the past few days.” The neighbor informed him. “Almost like you got bit by the true crime bug.”

With a heavy sigh, Nick pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you telling me I’ve been talking nonsense, and you’ve all just been humoring me?”

“I mean, people have stopped by and tried to help you out. Brought you groceries and such. Mrs. Davis has religiously been bringing you casseroles every week.” Herb offered with a shrug. “I think she just enjoys the flirting. Gives her life a little spice.”

Gods above, these people really hadn’t been given much of a part in Wanda’s spell, had they? They were exactly the same. Still gossiping and giving him exactly zero useful information. Nick turned away from him when he heard shouting from the other side of the street, finding a new set of neighbors staring him down, a man protectively clamping a hand over his daughter’s eyes and fruitlessly trying to drag her and his wife inside away from the spectacle. Why Dottie was eying him like he was something to eat, Nick wasn’t prepared to consider, especially since he was realizing with horror that he recognized their faces. “Librarian. Chief of police.”

Another familiar face jogged around the corner, making an abrupt U-turn when they saw him, and Nick groaned. “Jeweler.”

Herb had removed his jacket and was attempting to tie it around Nick’s waist from over the fence, only just then alerting him to the fact that he was nude. No wonder Dottie had been staring. Nick wasn’t scared of nudity, wasn’t ashamed of his body- even if he noted with disappointment that he’d lost muscle mass over the years-, but the last thing he needed was to end up in jail for flashing people.

“You seem pretty lucid for a change.” Herb noted. “Angry, even. Powerful.”

“What did you just say.” Nick asked, cutting him off.

“I said powerful, but look, Nate-,”

“It’s Nicholas.” Nick cut him off with a glare. He’d kill the next Nathan he met out of spite, just for having to hear the name.

“Right, Nicholas. You really need to go inside and put some real clothes on because school lets out soon, and-,”

Nick held up a hand. “I got it, thank you.”

He stomped back across the street, jacket still tied tightly around his middle. Something had clicked in his mind when Herb said what he did, and it wasn’t a good something. Safely behind the closed door of the house that certainly wasn’t his, Nick took stock of himself, horrified to find his fingers bare of the stains from the Darkhold for the first time in almost a century.

Frantically, he tried to draw on his magic, desperate for even the simplest of spells, but his efforts yielded nothing. Not even the smallest hint of purple. He centered himself with a deep breath and tried to call on the other side of his magic, one that he hadn’t touched in decades, but even that only gave him the smallest wisp of black before fizzling out. Wanda had truly culled him of everything.

Still, not was all lost just yet. Magic could be rebuilt. Nick had kept a few tonics and artifacts hidden away for just this reason. No one was infallible, and while he was the best, he wasn’t perfect. Having a backup plan was always the best thing to do in any situation. Agatha had taught him that more than once growing up. There were plenty of times they’d needed a speedy exit after killing a coven or a couple of stray witches only to be blocked, but Agatha was smart and had always had another way for them to flee. He snagged a pair of basketball shorts he saw hanging over the back of the couch and continued on his path.

Nick flung open the door to the basement, and hurried down the steps, dread coiling in his gut even from what he could see from there. Where there had once been a grand display of his magical collection, there was now nothing except for a couple of appliances.

As Nick crossed the room, Señora Harkness popped out of her hiding spot, hopping towards him. Nick crouched down to pick the bunny up, cradling her gently and pressing his face into her downy fur. “We got mugged, Señora. That bitch robbed us for everything we own. I should be grateful she didn’t take you, too.”

A thud sounded from upstairs, and Nick’s heart dropped. With no magic and a far cry from the physicality he was before the curse, he wouldn’t put up much of a good fight against any intruders. He supposed there was a chance that it was another well-meaning neighbor coming to check on him. Perhaps Herb had spread the word.

Cautiously, Nick crept up the stairs, hearing the thumping continue, coming from the kitchen. He set Señora Harkness down in a side room to keep her safe and continued on his hunt for the source of the noise.

He tracked the noise to a coat closet and grabbed a cast iron skillet as he passed the kitchen counter for some sort of weapon before throwing open the door. Inside was a teenager tied hand and foot with duct tape covering his mouth. Nick frowned. “So, the arrest was more of a kidnapping, huh?”

The kid tried to say something, but it was muffled under the tape, and Nicholas didn’t quite care enough to bother trying to understand. He had far more pressing matters to attend to. “If you’re real, and not a character from that deranged ginger’s spell, that would also mean-,”

Splinters of wood pelting him in the face cut Nick off, a forceful gust of wind sweeping him off his feet and sending him flying into the cabinets, safety skillet flinging across the kitchen island. He sputtered as he hit the floor, trying to clear his vision of blood and hair enough to get a proper view of his attacker, though he was almost positive of her identity already.

With all the dramatics of the lesbian theater kid Nick knew she would have been had she been born in the right time, Lady Death swaggered into the house. It had been decades since Nicholas had seen his mother, and it seemed that she’d discovered Hot Topic in that time if the dark clothes and makeup were anything to go by. She’d ditched the corset/dress combo at the turn of the last century, but she’d traded it for green three-piece suit, if memory served.

Alas, Nick wasn’t given much time to process as his mother used the door frame as a launching pad to fling herself towards him just when he managed to find his footing among the many, many pieces of what used to be a very sturdy door. It was only his quick instincts that saved him from a dagger through his currently mortal throat. If Rio had tried to stab him three years ago, it wouldn’t have done much, but without any of either of his magics, he was as defenseless as a kitten. He wasn’t much of an opponent for his mother on a good day, even if he was able to put up something of a fight, but a real fight with Lady Death right now would only end with her walking him to see his mom again, and tempting as that was, he was more interested in regaining his power at the moment.

Trembling hands were locked around his mother’s wrist where she pinned Nick to the wall, a maniacal grin on her lips. “I missed you.”

“Well, you sure have a funny way of showing it.” Nick managed to respond with his eyes locked on the dagger creeping ever closer to his very breakable skin.

“How long has it been, Mijo? Since you hid yourself from me with all that dark magic?” Rio asked, pressing forward even more.

“You know, plenty of kids are going no-contact these days.” Nick said, trying his best to avoid the tip of the dagger. “You’re supposed to accept that.”

“You’ve lost your magic, Nicky. That’s as good as asking me to find you, you know that.” Rio had valiantly ignored his snark and brought her other hand up to press down on the dagger, just barely managing to draw blood. “You’re vulnerable.”

“Only physically.” Nick said and used what little strength he had to slam his mother’s head into the wall.

There was a part of Nicholas that knew that if she wanted to, Rio could end the fight with a couple of well-aimed punches and a nonfatal stab wound, but since he’d been old enough and strong enough to raise his hand to her in the first place, this was how they expressed themselves. They weren’t good at talking. Nicky was too steeped in his anger after all this time to give her anything but vitriol, and Rio was too hurt by his anger to respond rationally. They could usually manage something of a conversation after a good fight, but without any magic to protect himself, Nick knew this would be far from that.

They both grappled for the dagger, Nick mostly to keep the business end of it from piercing any of his body parts, and he was able to wrestle it into the wall in a feat of strength that he could only describe as superhuman. He grinned at Rio with pride at the hint of his cosmic entity side, completely forgetting for a moment what they were doing. She grinned back at him also proud, only clench a hand around his throat, manhandling him into the proper position for her to be able to kick him clean across the room.

Nick groaned, scrabbling to his hands and knees as Rio yanked her knife from the wall. “I’m pretty sure this is considered child abuse.” He shouted.

“You’re not a kid anymore.” Rio fired back as she advanced on him.

“Just regular abuse, then.” Nick said, barely managing to bring up a cutting board that was laying nearby to keep his mother’s dagger from lodging itself in his skull.

The dagger skittered away, and Nicholas drew back the cutting board to hit Rio with, only for her to bat it away effortlessly. “This really feels like an unfair fight.” Nick said as they tussled, both throwing a few punches, though his were far lighter.

“You’d be upset if I scaled back for you.” Rio fired back.

And, well, she wasn’t wrong. She’d tried that when he was younger and he’d set fire to her favorite forest in revenge.

He managed to get a good enough punch in that it surprised her, and Nick scrambled over Rio, hands locked around her throat.

To his irritation, she only laughed. “You can’t kill me.”

“You can’t kill me! It’s not allowed.” Nicholas hollered.

She followed that comment up with a vicious headbutt Nick knew he was going to feel for the next few days, using a wind spell to fling him into the China cabinet, and if he hadn’t had a concussion before, he definitely did now. “I don’t need to kill you, sweetheart. I think we both know there are fates worse than that.”

Nick whimpered into the hardwood (really, it couldn’t have been carpeted anywhere in this house?) and attempted to peel himself off of the floor. “Come on, this isn’t even a fair fight. Surely, you’re not enjoying yourself right now. I don’t have enough magic in me to do a single measly spell. This is undignified.”

“Then take my power.” Rio offered.

“As if you would let me.” Nick knew a red herring when he saw one. “You’ve always been a big proponent in letting me learn from my bad choices.”

“True.” Rio said. “And there was no choice worse than going up against the Scarlet Witch and trying to siphon her magic. That’s like trying to fill a teacup with a five-gallon jug, pendejo.”

“First of all,” Nick stated. “Rude. I can see were Mom learned her bad language. Second of all, I kind of thought I was above all that with my-,” he cut his gaze to the very confused and traumatized teenager watching him from the closet. “Unique heritage.”

“Two different magics, kiddo. Even then, your dark magic isn’t bottomless, which I’m sure you’ve now realized since you’ve been robbed of both.”

Rio clicked her tongue in anger. “Let me tell you, having the Scarlet Witch run around with that special magic in her possession was a different kind of annoying. Made her very hard to deal with. And that’s on you, boy.”

“Oh, come on! That’s hardly my fault!” Nick protested. “I didn’t expect her to steal my magic!”

“And, yet, the fault still lies with you, mijo. You need to pay for that. And thankfully, there are plenty of parties interested in your location. I’m more than happy to sit back and watch them come for you.” Rio said with a grin.

There was a certain party Nick had been avoiding for centuries that he knew his mother was itching to have in her domain where she could properly play with them. Without any magic, fighting them would be a one-way ticket to the Other Side.

Seeming to sense and understand his concern, Rio conjured enough wind to slam to closet door shut and block them from view of the teenager. She grew a small orb of black magic, firing it into directly his chest for him to absorb. “You remember the rules?”

“Death magic is for mortals not magicals.” He recited.

“Good. It won’t help you against the Seven, but it’ll keep you safe enough from anything else.” Rio said, pacing forward to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “I expect they’ll be here by sundown. You best figure something out.”

She turned her back on him to leave, only glancing back at him once she’d made it to the empty doorway. “Te veo.”

Nick stared after her, realizing belatedly that his head had finally stopped throbbing. He swiped a hand over his face, and it came around clean of fresh blood, only a couple dried flakes remaining. This was how they operated. They fought, they talked, she healed him, and then she left again. Some part of Nick that he tried to bury deep beneath the surface longed for a more normal relationship with his mother. Something kinder and loving. The glimpse he’d gotten that day all those years ago right after he lost Agatha. But that train had long since left the station, and this was all that remained.

Nick jogged upstairs to find something with a bit more coverage than just a bloodstained pair of shorts, though the choices were minimal. Whoever’s closet he was digging through seemed to more favor casual wear, and Nicholas liked to think he had more style than that. Still, he was able to find a nice pair of jeans and a button-up that would do.

He jogged back down the stairs right as the banging started up again from the closet and he was reminded of the yet unidentified minor he still had locked up. Nick threw open the door so the kid could escape and then ran off again in search of shoes. The first pair were a set of flip flops he wouldn’t be caught dead in, and he had to scour the next room, using precious time he did not have for something a little more presentable. He found a pair of nice sneakers under the desk in the office and shoved his feet into them, lacing them up quickly. They weren’t perfect, but they would do.

There was a mug of coffee on a side table that Nick thought might have been fresh, though a mouthful of ice-cold tea proved him wrong in more ways than one. No matter. He could steal something from somewhere on the way.

“The house is yours, random boy.” He hollered in the kid’s direction. “Be sure the tell the vengeance seekers I said hi.” He pulled on a nice jacket he found on the coat rack, already feeling the chill coming through his empty front door frame. He glanced around once he was ready, knowing that Señora Harkness was around somewhere. He had no idea where her carrier had ended up, but she was well enough behaved that she could be loose in the car, he supposed.

“Take me to the Witches’ Road!”

Nick froze in place, head slowly turning in the boy’s direction. He marched over, yanking the rest of the duct tape from his face. “What was that?”

“The Witches’ Road. Take me there.” The boy said, then grimaced. “Please?”

As if his manners were the problem and not the request itself. It had been ages since Nick had pulled off the Witches’ Road scam. There weren’t enough people left that believed in it, much less whole covens, and Nicholas wasn’t willing to kill a kid, all that aside.

“The Witches’ Road doesn’t exist.” He stated plainly. The kid didn’t need to go looking for things he wouldn’t find.

“You’re lying.”

“Am I?” The audacity of the boy. Nick would know, he’d been the one to make the whole thing up.

“That’s just what real witches say to keep the amateurs out.” The boy insisted. “The Road will give you what you want the most. If you can make it to the end. And I know I can. I will.”

Nick almost considered it. He could practically taste the magic coming off the kid in waves. But still, he did have some morals. “The Road is no place for a kid.”

“I’m sixteen!” Teen argued.

“Teen, whatever. The point stands. You’re too young to go getting mixed up in that nonsense. I don’t know where you heard about it, but you need to let it go.”

“Book, the Ballad, legend, lore…” The kid listed

“It’ll kill you.” Nick said, rolling his eyes. Damned kid was relentless.

“It didn’t kill you.” Teen fired back, hopping towards him, still bound.

“Yes, well, I had an exceptional teacher.” Nick responded, now scouring the living room for his rabbit.

“That’s exactly my point!” Teen exclaimed before taking a breath. “Okay, so, confession, I know an egregious amount about you. I’ve been obsessed since I first read up on your Salem days. “One of my favorite you eras.”

That gave Nicholas pause. There weren’t many that actually looked into him these days. “That’s a good one.”

“That’s why I came here last night. Why I saved you from the spell you were under.” Teen said, still frustratingly unnamed.

Rio had likely done at least some of the heavy lifting on spell removal, but Nick could sense the power beneath the boy’s surface, and his eyebrows ticked upward in interest. The boy read him wrong and smiled widely. “No. It was my pleasure.”

Nicholas took a seat in a nearby armchair, willing, for the moment, to indulge the kid. “If you have the goods to break a spell by the Scarlet Witch, what use do you have of the Road?”

“I mean, I’ve studied.” Teen said, also hopping to a seat. “But that can only get me so far. I want to blast, shield, levitate.”

Typical teenage boy. “You want a shortcut.”

“The Road promises that what’s missing awaits you at its end. Power is what I’m missing. Sounds like it’s what you’re missing too.” Teen smiled at him, clearly thinking he’d won with that line.

And to be fair, Nicholas did consider it. For all of a second. “Nope. Too risky. No time.”

He spotted Señora hopping from one room to the next and rushed towards her, Teen stumbling along behind him. “If you wanna run, fine. But these people coming tonight sound serious. You really think you can outrun them with no magic at all?”

Nicholas did not have ‘no magic at all’. He had a very small amount of death magic that would be enough to get him far, far away until he could drain dry another witch. He paused, looking around again for his rabbit, foot brushing against something among the wreckage of his door. He glanced down to find his mom’s locket. He was quick to pick it up and fasten it around his neck.

Nick glanced over to the boy. “Who are you?”

“My name is-,” Teen was silenced with a sigil. How queer.

Nick stepped closer, wanting a better look. “Try that again.”

“I’m-,” Same thing.

Power, Nick could find elsewhere, but a fun little mystery would be far more difficult to come by. Besides, he’d always thought about getting himself a protege. The kid might be useful for a thing or two. “I’m driving.”

Chapter Text

After a very embarrassing incident involving a desk that wasn’t a car which Nick definitively didn’t want to talk about, he was driving into town with the Teen. “What do you know about covens?” He asked.

The boy glanced at him from the driver’s seat before fixing his eyes firmly on the road again. “A few things. They’re the purest form of sisterhood. They can be drawn together by mysterious forces of fate. Wait are we going to meet your coven? Do you have one? I know you’re magical, but are male witches even a thing?”

Too many questions, no caffeine. Nick kept an eye glued to the buildings around them for something that might serve decent coffee. “No, I don’t have a coven. Yes, male witches are a thing, they’re just unusual. Most magical genes travel down the matriarchal lines. Since I had two moms, but was born a boy, it basically guaranteed my magical abilities. No paternal genetics to muddy the waters.”

The kid perked up a bit.

“There’s magic that can let two witches have a baby together? That’s so awesome and progressive. Especially since you’re like three hundred years old. I didn’t know ancient Salem was cool like that.” Teen said cheerily.

Dark eyes flitted to Nick again. “Was that lady you were fighting your mom? One of them? You seemed pretty familiar, is all.”

Annoyingly attentive, the boy was. Nick seethed internally but couldn’t be too outwardly upset. The kid was still a kid and he’d been just as bad at his age.

“We’re not talking about that.” Nick stated firmly. His problems with his mother were his and his alone.

The boy wisely remained silent for the next few miles they drove until he decided to voice a reasonable question. “So, like where exactly are we going? What’s the drive time for the Road?”

Reasonable, if a little clueless for someone that claims to have studied the Witches’ Road. “The Road is not a place that you go to, it’s one that comes to you. You summon in, with a spell. And to properly summon the Gate and open it, you need a coven. So, we’re going looking for one.”

“Oh.” Said Teen. “Am I going in the right direction?”

Nicholas had felt the pull of magic in that direction, so, “Yes. Wherever you are, a coven there shall be.”

“That’s beautiful.” Teen breathed.

It was beautiful for Nicholas’s succubus side and little else, but whatever. “It’s the Covenstead Rule. Within any three-mile radius, there will be a collection of witchy enough people to form a coven.”

Agatha had taught him that one. It had kept their magic fed for many years. They’d never needed to go far for their next meal.

The boy pulled a small notebook out of his pocket. “Can you actually jot that down for me? There’s a pen in the glove box.”

He passed it over to Nick, who flipped through it in interest. There were some pretty decent spells printed in it, alongside a load of interesting information. Poisons, notable witches in history- there was even a small section dedicated to Nick’s mom, though Teen hadn’t seemed to connect that they were related. It seemed Agatha had been known only for killing her coven during the early days of Salem and then becoming known as the Witch Killer for a time until she’d dropped off the map. According to Teen’s little blurb, people suspected she was alive still, just collecting power.

People were stupid, Nick concluded. As if the Agatha Harkness would have hoarded all that power and then nothing with it. He turned to an empty page and wrote down the Covenstead Rule as well as a couple other important magical rules he thought the Teen should know.

Don’t summon anything in a graveyard at night unless you want a demon or zombie to come knocking.

Never invite anyone you don’t know into your home. They could be a vampire. (Yes, those are real.)

Then, Nick passed the book back, leaning his head back against the headrest and closing his eyes. “There any place to get a decent cup of coffee around here?”

“Yes, actually.” Teen said enthusiastically. “There’s a local place just down the road. My boyfriend is a barista there. It’ll be good to check in with him. He worries.”

“How cute.” Nick responded dryly.

A local coffee shop. Nick hoped it was one of the good ones. It would either be overpriced tar hiding behind expensive syrups and milk, or it would be an elixir of the gods. In Nicholas’s experience there was rarely a middle ground. He hoped for the latter. He needed a decent drink, and it was far too early in the day for alcohol.

.

.

.

The cafe was tastefully decorated and didn’t smell like burnt beans, so Nick was cautiously optimistic about the quality of the coffee. There was an assortment of pastries in a case that looked fresh and homemade, so he ordered a donut and a caramel macchiato, waving at the Teen to pay for him. He’d been trapped in a curse for three years; he didn’t have a dime to his name.

Teen paid without question, excitedly chatting up the boy behind the counter whose name tag said Eddie. Nicky couldn’t hear a word of their conversation over the milk steamer and ambient music, so he waited off to the side, sure he wouldn’t care about their teenage romance, anyway. As long as his drink was decent, Nick didn’t give a single shit what they were jabbering on about.

“Order for Scratch?” A different barista called, and Nicholas wasted no time in rushing for it, the hot cup warming his hands pleasantly. A sip determined the coffee to be good, possibly with a homemade syrup instead of the store bought. It was enough to impress him. If this con worked out and Nick was able to stick around, he’d be happy to get it more often. The donut was equally delicious and if Nick had a single dollar to his name, he’d have gotten three more. But alas. “Come along, Teen, we have work to do.”

The boy swiftly kissed his boyfriend goodbye and followed close behind Nick. “So, what’s the verdict? Did it impress?”

“It’s passable.” Nicholas answered, taking another sip. “I could have eaten a dozen of those donuts, though.”

“Eddie makes them himself in the mornings.” Teen informed him. “He won’t teach me the recipe, but I’m kind of a disaster in the kitchen, so it’s probably for the best.”

“Really leaning into those gender norms, huh, kid?” Nick remarked with a smirk. “Even I learned how to cook back in Salem.”

“Wait, really?” Teen asked with wide eyes.

“No. I lived in the woods, and we ate what my mom could forage over an open fire. There wasn’t much cooking to learn. I did take a few classes when the modern world formed, however. It’s important for feed oneself.”

The boy’s face fell so swiftly that Nick almost felt bad, but it faded when he looked across the street and saw the sign on the building in front of them. “There. That’s where we’ll find our first witch.”

Teen’s gaze followed his to the sign reading Madam Calderu’s Psychic Readings. “Aren’t these places usually scams?”

Nick could feel the strength of their magic from across the street. “Not this one. I’ve got a good feeling about it.”

The bell above the door dinged obnoxiously at them when they entered, and beads parted for the shop owner. Nick slapped on his WandaVision character, offering up a big smile. “Well, good day, Ma’am. We appreciate you taking time to see us.”

There was a glint in the woman’s eyes that told Nick she wasn’t buying a word he said, but he’d expected nothing less.

“My boy Beau, here, is hoping for a miracle today. Now, me, I don’t believe a lick of this mystical stuff, but all the parenting books nowadays say that you should raise your kids to be their own person.” Nick said with a chuckle.

When Teen opened his mouth to say something, Nick pressed a hand over it. “He doesn’t talk much. Hasn’t since his Mama died. He’s here hoping to talk to her today. We just miss her something awful.”

The older woman smiled. “Please, have a seat.”

They joined her by a crystal ball. “How will you be paying?” Calderu asked.

Nicholas motioned to Teen. “The boy wants the reading so badly, so he’s going to pay for it himself. Have to teach him the value of the dollar, am I right?” He laughed.

The woman gave a small nod- and did Nick catch a hint of an eye roll there?

Teen tapped a card against the reader with only a moment’s hesitation, and their psychic ran her hands over the ball. “Your mother was a strong woman.” She started. “Stronger than most. Did she practice martial arts?” she asked.

Nicholas gasped dramatically. “She died in a freak jiu jitsu accident.” He grasped Teen’s shoulder tightly. “There’s no way she could know that. Did you talk to her in advance, boy?”

Teen shook his head quickly with wide eyes, eagerly playing his part. Nick’s innate telepathic abilities summoned up an image of the boy bowing on a stage, which made a lot of sense. Teen seemed to be the theater type.

Madam Calderu hummed and warbled. “Silence, please, she’s speaking to me.”

Nick hid his laughter behind his hand, and Teen’s cheeks puffed out as he held his own in. The woman opened her eyes. “She’s saying ‘Nicholas Scratch, if you don’t drop this act this instant, you’re going to be smacked about the head’.”

Nicholas couldn’t hold his laughter in any longer, guffawing into the table. “Lilia, you’re a riot. Do you really get any customers with this act?”

Lilia rolled her eyes, rounding the table to draw him into a hug. “Oh, please, piccolo fiore, you know me better than that. I clocked you the moment you walked into my shop. Did you think that I was going to put on a full performance for you?”

Nick gasped, scandalized. “I would think I’m worth it! I gave you a full performance, Zia.”

When they parted, Lilia smiled fondly at him before her expression hardened, and she smacked him soundly on the back of the head. “Fifty years, Nicholas Scratch! Fifty! Not a note, not a call, nothing!”

“Ay! I’m sorry, Zia, I’ve been busy!” He cried, trying to ward off further attacks.

“Busy losing your magic and falling under some sort of spell.” She said, with a roll of her eyes. “And now you’re up to your usual shenanigans and trying to rope me and a child into it.”

“The child came to me, actually.”

“Well, I’m not interested!” Lilia shouted, turning from them to ascend the stairs to her apartment.

“You haven’t even heard the pitch!” Nick protested.

“I don’t need to. What witch in her right mind would join your coven, boy?” Lilia responded, not deigning to look back at them.

Behind him, Teen gasped; scandalized on his behalf. Nick appreciated it, even if it was unnecessary. “Well, we’re not looking for right-minded witches.” Nick informed her. “We’re going to walk the Road.”

The lights flickered slightly, and Lilia paused, drawing her hands up to her ears and screaming. She looked back at them with a horror Nicholas hadn’t seen since he was eleven years old and had accidentally killed a witch in front of her. It was enough to make him temporarily reconsider the plan. He’d never actually planned on killing her, but it didn’t bode well that she was having violent visions.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” Teen asked.

Lilia recovered quickly waving the question away as she pulled a full kettle off of a hotpan, pouring it over three pre-prepared mugs of tea. She set one down in front of Nick where he’d taken a seat and then another at the other empty spot, motioning for Teen to sit.

“Thanks, but I’ve got my coffee.” Nicholas said.

“You’ll drink it and be thankful.” Lilia told him, already sipping at her own cup.

Well, who was he to ignore a direct order. He blew on it gently and took a cautious sip. Immediately, he recognized the blend as one she’d given him in childhood meant to boost his natural magical stores. Sweet, but a bit useless considering there was nothing much there to boost. His Death magic hummed a little, so Nick supposed it wasn’t entirely worthless.

“Thank you.” He said.

“You’re very welcome, you ungrateful brat.” She responded with a huff.

“We’re going to walk the Road.” Teen blurted out suddenly, and Lilia’s face fell.

Nick had never told her about his scam. Hadn’t told her that it wasn’t real, and as long as she hadn’t divined anything about it, she should have no reason to suspect otherwise. “The Road is a death wish.” She said to the boy.

Nicholas shrugged. “I survived. And so did my mom.”

“Your mom was a special kind of witch, piccolo fiore. There are very few witches with the power and knowledge that Agatha Harkness had. Power and knowledge she passed on to you. I’m not surprised she was able to survive it and I’m even less surprised that you followed in her footsteps.”

Teen’s eyes widened in a way that would have been comical in any other situation. “Wait. Your mom is Agatha Harkness? The Agatha Harkness?! And you didn’t tell me?!”

“I’ve known you for five minutes, kid.” Nicholas said with a roll of his eyes.

“Not a kid.”

“Fine, Teen. The point stands. I barely know you and you; I wasn’t about to just start spreading my family tree to you.”

“Well, that’s kind of a big branch!” Teen insisted. “She was the first to survive the Road, the last surviving member of the Salemites, responsible for the deaths of hundreds of witches. It’s said that she made a deal with Death to become immortal.”

Nicholas’s mood dropped swiftly. “Well, not everything you hear is true, Teen. It’s about time you learned that.”

He sighed deeply, looking back to Lilia. “Look, we’re doing this thing whether you like it or not. You in? I saw the eviction notice on the door when we came in. This could be your chance to escape that.”

Obviously there was no Road to grant Lilia wealth, but Nick had a stash of money upstate that he could deliver to her. She’d be fine.

“You expect me to walk this Road and if we’re successful-,”

“When.” Nick cut in to correct her.

“If we’re successful, watch you turn around and kill every witch there?” She finished.

It hurt a little bit, that she thought he would hurt her. “C’mon, Zia, you know how my powers work. Unless you blast me, I can’t do anything.” He frowned. “And you know I’d never hurt you.”

It was true. She’d taken him in and raised him as her own until he’d skipped town in search of more power when he was sixteen.

She pursed her lips in thought, before her face went lax and the lights in the unit started to violently flicker, the kettle on the counter whistling loudly despite having long since been removed from the heat.

Teen stood in alarm. “What’s happening?” He asked.

“Witchcraft.” Nick answered, eyeing Lilia warily. There was no telling what it was she was seeing.

She scrabbled for a paper on the counter, uncapping a nearby pen to write on it. “Three of pentacles.” She stated as a fuse blew with a pop, leaving them in darkness.

“A list of four names for your coven.” Lilia said, offering Nick the page. “You can leave me out of it.”

Nicholas looked at it, a smirk lifting his lips. “Well, boss, you’re on the list.”

“What?” Lilia said, whipping back towards them.

“Yup.” Nick said, popping the p. “You and a few… inconvenient names.” He continued, glancing down at the paper again. A black heart that could only symbolize his mother as well as a couple other familiar people. If Lilia had Seen it, they’d end up coming together, but Nick was interested to see how that was going to work.

Teen produced a paper with Nick’s address on it, setting it on the table. “Be here tonight at five to embark on your next adventure.”

Cheesy. Nicholas rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you later, Zia.”

They turned and left and as they did Teen said, “That was amazing! And we got a team roster out of the deal. It would have been nice if you told me you knew her, though. Who’s next?”

Nick went to consult the list only to have his attention drawn by a particularly loud raven cawing at him from a sign. He stopped to look at it, feeling the twisted magic around it. It was a bad sign for them to start showing themselves so soon. He needed more time.

“Nicholas?” Teen’s voice drew him from his thoughts.

“What?”

“Who’s next on the list?” He asked.

Nick looked down and groaned. “This is going to be rough, kid.”

.

.

.

Kale Kare. Nick wanted to set the whole place on fire. Jennifer would choose a tacky name like that for her phony skincare brand. After all, one didn’t accrue that many lawsuits without there being at least a grain of truth to them. She wouldn’t even be particularly useful in the Witches’ Road scam considering that she was bound and Nick wouldn’t get a single spark of magic from her. In fact, he was becoming less and less sure of this whole thing because he wouldn’t be getting magic from Lilia or Jen or the boy, which only left the last two names on the list. Alice Wu wouldn’t be particularly open to the scam if the rumors about her mother were true and the last name wasn’t a name at all, but a black heart. It had been ages since Nick had heard it in the context of a person, but he distinctly remembered Agatha telling him that his mother’s black heart beat for them. Not ideal in the slightest.

Still, he opened the door to the building, ushering Teen into the shop. Jen was speaking with a couple of women, showing off a candle that Nick was sure that would blow up in their faces soon enough.

The door shut behind him and Nick forced a smile on his face. “My wife tells me she needs a jade egg!” The women turned to look at him with varying levels of disgust and interest. “I don’t know what that is, but she’s been talking about it nonstop since she had our youngest, and this is apparently the place to go.”

The women made eye contact with each other and seemed to agree to leave, darting past Nick to freedom. He grinned widely at the shop owner. “Jen. It’s been ages.”

“Nicholas Scratch. I haven’t seen you since I made a pointed effort not to ever run into you again.” She returned with a false smile.

Nick barked out a laugh, glancing back at Teen. “She’s so funny, isn’t she?”

She was also immune to his charms and wouldn’t be swayed with anything less than the truth and a strong argument.

“Anyway.” He started. “I’m assembling a coven. We’re going to walk the Road, and I am in need of a potions witch. You in?”

Kale arched a brow. “You can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack.” Nicholas confirmed.

“It’s a dead end, Scratch.” She eyed Teen. “Literally.”

“Oh, come on, Jennifer.” Nick said. “Don’t you want to lift that pesky little binding spell? How long has it been since you’ve been able to use your magic? A hundred years? More? Don’t you want to get back on top?”

Jen moved to the other side of the shop, intent on avoiding them, but Nick wasn’t so easily deterred.

Teen followed over, butting into the conversation. “You look amazing.” He gushed.

“I know.” She responded, gaze not leaving Nick, her eyes roving over his face as she tried to see if he was telling the truth. “Why would you possibly give a shit about my magic, Scratch?”

Nick threw up his hands. “Just looking out for my fellow witches. We used to be friends, didn’t we, Jen?”

She ignored the obvious attempt at manipulation, now tracking his hands. “You lost the Darkhold.” She said, a grin slowly growing on her lips. “And now you’re powerless against whatever horrors may be coming your way. How far you’ve fallen Witch Killer.”

It was obvious bait that Nicholas wasn’t keen on taking, so he clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. “I’m not wasting my time illuminating the obvious.” He said. “We can find another potions witch elsewhere. Have fun healing the healthy. Come along, boy.”

Teen didn’t, in fact, follow him, instead staying behind to talk to his idol. “Hi. I love your Insta page, by the way. You totally minimized the size of my pores.”

Jen’s eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms as she turned her gaze to where Nick was making a hasty retreat. “Who’s this kid? Another sacrifice?”

Nicholas didn’t deign to answer her, waiting for Teen by the door. The kid was still stubbornly talking to Jen. “I’m really sorry about your recent legal trouble.” He said, mock sympathetically, flashing his phone with the article he’d been reading in the car.

Jen’s jaw clenched and that was enough to pull Nick back into their orbit, reading over Teen’s shoulder. “Fraudulent misrepresentation resulting in consumer injury? Those are some serious charges, Jen.”

Teen shrugged blithely. “I personally wouldn’t consider superficial burns injury, but apparently some people needed skin grafts.”

Nick gasped. “Jen! You naughty, naughty, bound witch.”

“I haven’t been convicted of anything.” She defended.

“Yet.” Nick cut in. “And we as a group don’t historically do well in courtrooms.”

The bound witch glared at her. “You would be the one to know, wouldn’t you, Scratch? How long did you spend in that Serbian prison, again?”

Nick waved it away. “A minor decade before I escaped. It was practically a vacation for me. It helped that the body was never found. Everything was speculation. It wasn’t even max security.”

“And you wouldn’t get max security, either.” Teen helpfully informed her. “The charge has a surprisingly lenient penalty. Just, like, payouts and maybe, like, five years in prison. But eight hundred counts of it? Starts to sound a little life-y, doesn’t it?”

Nicholas cackled, a deep belly laugh rising from his gut. After all these years and high-handed insults, Jen was finally getting some comeuppance. “So, you’re magically bound, and about to be literally bound? Yule isn’t for a few months yet, and surely it’s not my birthday. What a gift.”

“None of this pedestrian drama would be a problem for a powered-up witch. Say, one that’s walked the Road?” Teen offered, chin tilted haughtily. Under any other circumstance, Nick was sure he and Jen would have gotten along fabulously. As it was, it would take some time for her to warm up to him.

The boy produced another slip of paper with Nick’s address on it. “If you value your magic and your livelihood, you’ll meet us here at five.”

They made their escape while Jen was still looking at the paper contemplatively, Teen almost skipping with joy. “Two down, two to go.” He said cheerily.

Nick took another peek at the note Lilia had given him. “Just one, actually.”

There was no way in hell, he was going to summon his mother to be their green witch. No, he was sure there was someone else that would be a decent stand-in.

“What? Lilia said there were four names.” Teen said, trying to lean forward and look at them.

Nick shoved it back in his pocket. “There are. The last one just awaits us at home.”

That was a good enough answer, he thought. There was another person that he didn’t have to specify, and he could claim they dropped out later.

“What?” Teen asked. “Who?”

Well, fuck. Nick wracked his brain for any single suitable candidate before the Boy could connect the dots. “I only know her by her cursed name.” He said. “Mrs. Hart. A few houses down. She’s got a latent green magic that will be just enough to open the Road.”

“Oh.” Teen said. “Okay, then. You know for a second, I thought you were going to say it was that scary lady from this morning.”

“Definitely not, kiddo. Now, let’s get a move on. We’re burning daylight and I need something else to eat.”

.

.

.

“So, how are we going to find the next witch?” Teen asked as they settled at a table in the mall’s food court.

Nick had a plate of lo Mein and orange chicken in front of him that he was tearing into while the boy just had a smoothie. Thus far, Nick had just been following the magical signatures he could feel nearby and hoping it was the right one. It was how he’d stumbled across Zia Lilia and what pointed them in the direction of Kale. There weren’t a whole bunch of magical people in the vicinity of either Westview or Eastview. “She’s here. I can tell.”

“Okay, but how?”

“Succubus powers, kid. I feel the magic that I can feed on. The stronger the magic, the more I feel a pull towards it. She’s here somewhere. When she gets closer, we’ll know.” Nick informed him.

“How can you tell who is who, though?” The boy asked.

It was a fair question. For the most part, he didn’t. But there were a few special exceptions. “She’s a blood witch. She’s got a unique magical-,” Nick waved the hand holding his chopsticks in thought, a lo Mein noodle landing on the floor near them. “Scent, I guess is an accurate description.”

The notebook from the drive to Eastview made another appearance and Billy started frantically scribbling. “And a blood witch is…?”

“Child of a witch. In her particular case, her mom was a witch and also a famous musician.”

Teen’s jaw would have fallen into his smoothie had it not been attached to the rest of him. “Alice Wu is Lorna Wu’s daughter? As in Lorna Wu and the Coral Shore? That famous musician?!”

Nicholas rolled his eyes, dabbing at the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “Calm down, kid. She’s not that big a deal.”

“She wrote the most famous version of the Ballad!” He argued. “My mom got to see her last tour right before she died. RIP. I bid on a limited-edition sighed LP of the Ballad, but it cost more than I make in a whole summer at the Hokey Pokey Bowl.”

What a terrible day to have ears. An atrocious combination of sounds that should never have been forced to grace his ears, but alas. “What, you don’t have a job during the rest of the year?”

“No.” Teen said with a shake of his head. “My parents want me to focus on my schoolwork, but I’m allowed to have, like, a paying job over summer break so I can have some spending money.”

Nick had not grown up during a time when he would have gone to school like the youth did today, but his mom had taught him the basics of reading and writing, along with some minimal arithmetic. Considering the time period, Agatha had been quite well-educated. Still, he supposed with the long hours spent in school now, it made sense not to force a job on top of that.

Before he could respond, a rat caught his attention. A suspicious rat if Nicholas ever saw one. It was squeaking and staring right at him, ignoring the little crumbs of food near it. The once passable food court meal suddenly tasted like ash and Nick shoved away from the table with a grimace and a last sip of his soft drink. “Let’s get moving.”

He strode away, the kid mumbling something about not leaving trash behind before he followed.

Letting his succubus side lead for the first time in three years was a risky move without knowing who was on the other end, but one Nick was willing to take. It brought them to a Hot Topic, and Nick hid away behind a display of earring and other fake jewelry to survey the crowd.

“You really think that the blood witch you’re following is Lorna Wu’s daughter? At the Westview Mall of all places? I always thought she’d be somewhere cooler, like Brooklyn or a yacht.”

Right. The boy had thoughts he felt necessary to share. It complicated things because words spoken tended to travel. And Nick didn’t want those words to travel directly into the ears of the blood witch he could see sitting at the front of the store in a security uniform.

Nick lowered his voice in hopes that the kid would do the same. “Rumor has it Lorna Wu was lost to the Witches’ Road.”

An unfounded rumor since the damned thing didn’t exist, but it was the kind of thing that would entice Teen to hopefully stop trying on sunglasses and get with the program.

“What?” Teen gasped, scandalized.

“Ironic isn’t it?” Nick said, peeking back at their target.

“More like iconic! She actually managed to get there!” The boy all but shrieked, and Nicholas glared at him.

“No. It’s a tragedy. That girl lost her mother to a death wish.” Nick was familiar with the feeling, after all.

Teen continued to obliviously peruse the jewelry. “So, I know I have, like, this goth gay aesthetic, but what are we doing here?”

Nick shoved a random piece of jewelry in the kid’s pocket knowing good and well that Alice had her eyes on them. “Run.”

“What?”

“Just go!”

Teen took off for the door, but didn’t make it far before he was knocked down and detained by the blood witch.

Nick rushed to their side, taking care to empty Teen’s pocket discreetly as he did. He’d done that con more than once when he was a kid with his mom, getting free meals for compensation for insulting them so heavily. She relied on that one more often when she was feeling particularly tired and in need of magic. It was low effort with a high payout.

“Alice Wu-Gulliver? Name’s Nick. I’m looking for a protection witch to help me down the Witches’ Road.” He flashed his most charming smile, the one that he’d used to make the Scarlet Witch trust him. “You in?”

The woman looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “What?”

The alarms drew the attention of someone that looked a hair more important than Alice in the hierarchy of mall security, and Nick was quick to his feet. “Sir, this woman just assaulted my son!”

Alice’s confusion only grew as she helped Teen to his feet. “What? No, I saw them lift something.”

Teen frowned. “I would never steal. Search me.”

“He didn’t do anything.” Nick said, folding his arms across his chest and drawing a stern expression. “Is this really how you run an establishment?”

With a regretful look, the other man said to Alice, “Your old lieutenant convinced me to give you a shot, but you’ve been nothing but bad luck, Gulliver. You’re fired.”

Oops. Not what Nick had intended to do, but dire circumstances and whatnot.

Alice seemed slightly resigned to her fate, brushing her orange tipped bangs from her face and offering Teen a stiff apology before collecting her belongings.

Nick rushed to follow her out, “Isn’t this some divine intervention! You’ve just lost your job, and we set off for the Road tonight. Like fate.”

“You’re the reason I lost my job.” Alice reminded them. “People like you are dangerous.”

It wasn’t an incorrect assumption. “Agreed, but are you coming with us on the Road?”

“The Road isn’t real.” The woman said morosely. “You groupies don’t get it. It’s just a stupid song.”

Nick cheered internally. He loved a dumb victim as much as the next serial killer, but the Wu family had been down on their luck enough to last several lifetimes, and he appreciated that someone had finally grown a proper brain.

Teen clutched at invisible pearls at Nick’s side. “Um, forty million copies sold worldwide would beg to differ.”

He was such a teenage boy. Always had to be right. And, well, he wasn’t entirely wrong, but it wasn’t the point. The song was popular, yes, but that didn’t make the damned thing any less insufferable. Nick had considered storming the studio and demanding royalties for stealing the idea behind his song, but ultimately decided it wasn’t worth giving up the scam for. He was still averaging a couple covens a year with that at that time, and it would have dried up what was left of his prey.

“The Road is real, and Nick’s been there.” Teen pressed.

“And back.” He confirmed. “And so did my mother.” Maybe pressing on her mommy issues would yield better results.

“The Road is a myth.” Alice stated. “It’s a con. A cult.”

Yes, yes, and probably. Nick was impressed. It would seem that any logic the witches of modern society possessed had been implanted straight into Alice’s hair dyed head. Still, he had a mission to fulfill. “But consider the alternative. What if it isn’t? Wouldn’t you like to answer the question that has been haunting you for most of your life? What happened to your mother?”

The line that should have cinched the deal seemed to do the opposite, and Alice stormed past them, putting on a set of headphones to drown out any further attempts. “Dura de pelar.” Nick muttered.

Teen looked at him curiously. “Huh?”

Right, the boy didn’t seem to know any Spanish. “She is a tough nut to-,” what was the English idiom? “Smash.”

“Crack.” The boy corrected him.

“That’s what I said.” Agatha Harkness lesson one. Never admit when you’re wrong.

“I didn’t get to give her your address.” Teen groused.

The house wasn’t technically his, if Nick was being honest. In fact, he didn’t actually know what had become of the previous owner. Some guy named Bohner or something. Nick hadn’t paid much attention. “We don’t need her.” Nick assured him.

The scam was falling apart at the seams. So far there was literally no one for him to drain for his power and he was going to have to pretend that their inability to act as a coven was why the Road wouldn’t open before making his escape. A waste of time and resources, but he’d been sucked in at the mystery sigil around the boy. He still was, being honest. There was something familiar about him that was driving Nick insane.

No matter. He’d get past this, too. Maybe there was some way for Nick to get at Jen’s magic past the confines of her binding. He turned back the way they came, skirting around a group of people behind them, trusting the teen would follow.