Bad Moon:Book One in the "I Am Chaos" series.

Chapter 8: Mal-Evolance

Chapter 8: Mal-Evolance

It was five in the morning when Cal shook me awake. "Hey, sorry," he said, "I've got to get back to my place and get dressed for work. This is a terrible thing to wake someone up for, but do you have any Chapstick?"

I blinked at him, trying to make out his features in the dark. Ugh, it was so early. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, it happens sometime, magic hangovers. Although I've never had one quite like this. I feel like half the life was sucked out of me. I just drank about a gallon of water, but my lips are splitting."

I reached over to my bedside table and turned on the lamp. Sure enough, Cal was dressed in yesterday's outfit, and he looked a good deal worse for the wear: He had deep lines under his eyes and the healthy glow in his skin was gone. His lips were dry and cracking. I swore in surprise, pushing my hair out of my face.

"I think I have some in my purse," I said, pointing to where my purse was stacked on top of a yet-to-be-sorted pile of clean clothes.

"Thanks." Cal reached into my purse and rifled around. "Found it. Oh. Whoa. What's this?" He put my purse down and sat on the edge of the bed, holding not only a small tube of Blistex but also something oblong and silver.

"I don't know." Apparently, I was getting up for good. I flipped the covers back and sat up. Cal might have felt terrible, but I felt like I could go on a ten mile run. 

"Looks like a pocket knife," said Cal, flicking it open and studying the blade. "I hadn't pegged you for the girl-scout type. Oh – wow – I think it's silver. Did Ash give this to you?" His voice went from interested to cautiously neutral in a split second.

I smirked a bit to myself. He was jealous.

"You wouldn't peg me for a girl scout?" I teased. "Why not? Am I not wholesome enough for you?"

Cal huffed. "That, and your penchant for never being on time anywhere."

I held out my hand for the knife, taking it from him. "No. It wasn't a gift from Ash." I folded the knife back up, feeling a strange zinging sensation as I did. This was the knife Andy had tried to give me yesterday. The one with my initials on it.

"I've got to get going. Do you mind if I hang onto this?" Cal asked, waving the Blistex at me.

"Sure," I said, not really paying attention. I kept turning the knife over and over in my hands. "Hey, wait!" Cal was on his way out of my bedroom and stopped in the door.

"Do you know what this is?" I asked. The knife didn't feel particularly magical, but its appearance in my bag was bizarre, and my skin's reaction to it was also strange: it both buzzed and burned.

"It's a pocket knife," he said, brows raised in confusion over what appeared to be an obvious question.

"But it's not mine. And it feels...strange."

"Really?" Cal came over and took the knife from my hands again. "It doesn't feel any different to me. Can you describe what you mean by 'feels strange?'"

I shrugged. "Like, my magic sort of spikes towards it. But also, it kind of burns a bit, holding it."

Cal frowned at my description. Then he shrugged. "I don't know about your reaction. But it's a pretty valuable instrument. You should keep it. Despite it being a white metal, silver is the metal most coveted by sorcerers. It's a really great conduit for electric energy, and it's rumored to be invaluable in dealing with demons. They're relatively immortal, we think, but they really have trouble healing from silver." He handed the knife back to me. "I have to go back to Lynn. Do you want me to return tonight?"