by Patti Larsen
“My love.” He held her hands to his chest, the top of her head reaching his chin, the flawless, perfect lovers, channeling a bad romance novel.
Meira poked me. I knew I was making faces in disgust. It was just so embarrassing. Normal people didn’t do that kind of thing in public. Meira and I exchanged a knowing smirk and I pretended to gag.
“My life,” Mom said with bated breath.
Another grimace. Meira giggled.
“Our circle is whole. Our power is renewed, and our love.” Even Dad was in on the nonsense.
“Yours always, my love.” Mom stretched up on her tiptoes.
I quickly found something else to look at, horrified by the open attraction my parents had no problem sharing with the rest of us. Didn’t they get public displays of affection were the height of icky? I’m sure if it were me, I’d be grounded.
Meira sniggered and made a little kissing noise. I choked on a laugh and had to struggle not to cough.
Dad winked at us.
“My people, my family, I embrace you with my love.” I felt the warmth flow through me as his presence wrapped around us all. It made me want to fidget again but this time I won.
“Love to you,” we all said at once. I hated this part, too, and did my best not to battle against the power flowing in a great circle from one witch to the next, passing between us like a hug, connecting us in ways too personal for my liking. I shuddered when it was done, skin crawling. Personal space meant nothing to them.
“Joy and peace to you all.”
“And to you,” I murmured along with the others. I glared at my candle and fought the urge to run away.
“We are one,” he said.
“And the same,” the coven answered.
“Power to blood.” Dad raised his arms.
“Blood to power.” The coven swayed.
“Family for eternity.” I scowled at him.
“Family forever,” I stared him down, but this time he wasn’t smiling. I didn’t like the serious expression on his face but shrugged at him. He finally looked away.
“Joined together, my soul to your soul, my heart to your heart, past, present and future, one and the same.”
The coven sighed as a whole as the warmth slowly left. Dad lowered his arms and embraced Mom. She turned, a light sheen of sweat on her cheeks and a huge smile on her face.
“Thank you all.”
The crowd murmured and started blowing out candles. My stomach slowly unclenched as I extinguished mine with relief and tossed it at Meira.
“Thanks, Meems.”
She blew delicately at her own, leaving behind a heart in her smoke. I poked it with my finger, but couldn’t break it. We looked up together at our parents and for a heartbeat the four of us connected, just us, in the remains of the power in the room.
I actually felt like I belonged.
***
Chapter Three
Someone had to switch on the light. I found the sudden brightness oddly offensive. And, what’s worse, the slender thread holding us snapped and I shivered in my robe, empty and cold. It bothered me I could get so wrapped up in the illusion of candlelight. When it broke and reality came back it was always disappointing to find myself in an ordinary basement.
Not that the magic was a sham, quite the opposite. In fact, it was way too real for me, always had been. Ever since I could remember I resisted who and what I was. Moments like the one I just shared gave me the creeps, even if they felt good at the time. What was I thinking? Normal. The ultimate goal was to be normal. My parents might be able to force me to do this song and dance for a couple more years, but eighteen here I come.
I winced as one of the men stumbled against a cardboard box marked “China.” A soft tinkle whispered of something delicate shattering. I guess it was fitting.
The crowd dissolved into a group of ‘just folks’, shedding their robes, revealing jeans and business suits underneath, as conversation started.
“…had a chance to try out the new babysitter? She’s a pet…”
“…was sure the boys would pull their socks up this year, but so far they’re still at the bottom of the league…”
“…love your new shoes! What's the name of the store…”
It amazed me they could simply shrug off the residue of power, the huge and scary stuff we did, and go back to an ‘ordinary’ life without even a hint of the truth showing through.
I, on the other hand, was terrible at it, like most everything else in my screwed up life. It seemed like after every ceremony I attended it took me a couple of days to stop dropping bits of magic here and there. Nothing major or the coven would take steps, but enough to reinforce my absolute resolve to get out of this crazy life forever.
I shucked out of my robe with relief. The only things keeping me from leaving it in an unruly puddle on the floor were my mother’s eagle eyes and her crooked finger summoning me closer. I was so tempted to do it, to see what would happen, what she would do, say, to piss her off. I was in that kind of headspace, a mother-baiting mood usually starting so innocently and ending in punishment and tears. But, instead, to keep my father happy, I slouched toward them as Mom addressed the crowd.
“Snacks in the kitchen. Erica, will you open the wine, please?”
Erica Plower, my mom’s best friend and second, waved as she left, shiny blonde bob swinging. I ignored the pointed glare she shot at me before leaving, knowing I would have her smart comments to deal with later. At least Mom had a good friend, but because Erica knew us all so well sometimes it felt like I had two mothers.
Personally, I figured the one I had was more than enough.
The crowd followed Erica, moving to the stairs, talk getting louder as the real world finally took over and the hungry horde made its way out of the basement. Gram, her ears perked by the mention of food, dashed from my side before I could stop her and pushed her way through the rest of the crowd. She disappeared through the door and I heard her badgering Erica for chocolate. Meanwhile, Mom slipped her arm around my shoulders and hugged me a little harder than necessary as she smiled at the exiting group. No escape for me. Meira hovered near Dad, as if she knew something was coming but was too young to realize it would probably dissolve into a mess she shouldn’t witness.
In fact, from the expression on Mom’s face I was sure Meira should leave before we tore into it. But as I drew a breath to make that very suggestion, the last of the coven vanished up the stairs and Mom turned me bodily toward her, a frown creasing her perfect face.
“Thank you for your enthusiastic participation, young lady.” She tried very hard to be stern, but my mom didn’t do stern very well. It came across as huffy.
“You're welcome.”
Her eyes flashed fire, normal Mom fire, not the magic stuff. Dad chuckled. She spun on him. He held up his hands for protection.
“Miriam,” he started.
“Harry!” She finished.
It dissolved into them sweetly gazing at each other. Would my time in family hell never end?
“Can I go?” I glared back and forth between them. “I have homework.”
Mom crossed her arms over her chest.
“You would think you didn’t want to see your father, Sydlynn.”
“Mom… ”
“Of course she does,” Dad said, “don’t you, Syd?”
“I love seeing you, Dad.” I really meant it.
Mom softened a little, but I knew the dangerous stuff was still to come. The crying and yelling stuff. To be honest, it was getting to the point where I hardly listened anymore. The same old, same old. And yet, there was obviously more ammunition on the way. I braced myself for the guilt trip and held on.
“This ceremony is very important to the family. You know that.”
“Yes, Mother.” She hated it when I called her Mother. What was wrong with me? I was only making things worse for myself, prolonging my grief. I zipped up and hoped she’d give me a pass.
She glared as I shift
ed from one foot to the other, the cloak getting heavier and hotter in my arms, hoping the expression on my face radiated innocence.
No such luck.
“And yet again, you have this… attitude.”
I gritted my teeth and tried to keep a calm expression. More attitude would make her crazy and I’d end up grounded or a frog or something.
Unfortunately, my brain and my mouth had a miscommunication.
“Yeah, Mom,” I said. “It’s called ‘I don’t give a crap.’”
Mom’s face crumpled. Oh damn, the waterworks. My mother was a freaking supernatural faucet.
She reached out and brushed her fingertips over my cheek. “You have been fighting your power your whole life. Would it hurt you to participate just once? We’re your family, honey.”
“We’ve had this conversation.” I tried to keep my voice low and rational and succeeded not badly. “You know I don’t want to be a witch. If you would let me give up my powers now instead of making me wait until I’m eighteen, you wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.”
Mom’s eyes brimmed. “So this is my fault? I’m a terrible mother for bringing you into the world, for cursing you to be a witch and not letting you go?”
“Oh, for… seriously, Mom, this is getting so old.” The drama was far too familiar and wore me thin. I tried to take a step back, but her power caught and held me. No way! I struggled against her, furious.
“Let go!”
“How can I let you go?” She cried, tears coursing in elegant lines down her face. How could she be so perfect in everything, even crying? My anger cranked up a notch.
“If you really loved me, you would.”
Mom looked like I slapped her. I’d never used that line before and wished I could take it back, especially since Dad’s expression matched my mom’s. As a matter of fact, so did Meira’s.
“Miriam, Syd, I think that’s enough.” Dad slid an arm around Mom while my sister leaned into his free side. Talk about a united front. I felt like a huge wall stood between them and me and knew I was as responsible for its construction as they were.
Mom cried openly. For the first time she was a real person in real pain. I felt like crap, but I was determined to keep the ground I gained. This was my chance to cut myself free.
“Is it really that horrible?” Mom’s eyes were red rimmed. I’d pay for that. “Being what we are?”
“I don’t want to be what you are,” I said, voice barely registering calm. Barely.
“Why not?” Mom’s confusion was genuine. I knew that.
I had two choices. I could go easy on her and lie about how I really felt like I always did. Or, I could open my big mouth and say the exactly the wrong thing, purposely breaking her heart.
Guess which one I picked.
“I don’t want to be a monster!”
I thought Mom was stunned before. Dad reached for me, but dropped his hand. Meira started to cry.
“Syd,” Dad whispered, “whatever gave you the impression you were a monster?”
Was he serious? Had he looked in the mirror lately?
“Dad,” I stretched out the word, trying to add weight to it, to make him understand. “You are a demon. Exactly where is the descriptive confusion here?”
Dad didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. I was on a bridge-burning roll, uh-huh. Might as well finish the demolition and ride the flames like a cleansing pyre.
“I hate what we can do. I hate the way it feels and I want out! Why can’t you understand that?”
I totally lost my temper. Bad to worse in a mere instant. Why did Mom have to pick right then to challenge me? Why couldn’t she let it go like she always did? I wasn’t prepared for this conversation, especially not with her. It would have been easier with just my dad and me. I could have made him understand. But my mom and I knew each other’s buttons and which ones were atomic.
Case in point.
Dad gave me the Father face, the angry Father face. I knew I finally found his button, too.
“I want you to apologize to your mother, young lady. This is hard enough on her as it is.”
Hard on my mother? Hard on my mother?! I am embarrassed to admit I suddenly and completely lost it. I dropped my robe on the floor in front of them with deliberate determination and crossed my arms over my chest.
“You have me until I’m eighteen. You know what happens then. You’ve always known. When the choice is mine, I’m done with magic, once and for all. If that means I’m done with you too, I guess that’s the way it has to be. End of story.”
I turned and walked away. I actually walked away. When I hit the bottom step, my heart felt like it was breaking, but I would not give in. Would not. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs, breathing a little heavy, not wanting to look back, knowing this conversation always ended with my mom crying and my dad upset. And worse, this time, because I finally told the truth. But I did turn back, if only for one reason. Dad, his power to remain with us almost used up, would be leaving soon, and I wanted to at least let him know I wasn’t angry with him.
“Nice to see you, Dad,” I said and left.
***
Chapter Four
I spent the whole of the rest of my evening fuming and avoiding my mother, in that order. I think she must have been feeling the same way because we only bumped into each other once in the kitchen. I did ten minutes of my covenly duty at the party before heading for my room. I tried not to feel sorry for myself when I felt the rush of departing magic when Dad went home to Demonicon. It totally sucked. We didn’t get a whole lot of time with him anyway. It took so much energy to bring him across that his visits were short and usually scheduled. And I’d missed most of it.
Mom came up from the basement while I headed for the stairs. Neither of us said a word. I have no idea if she tried to make eye contact because I absolutely refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing I cared if she looked or not. Yes, I know, childish. If that was what it took.
I didn’t even have the distraction of soccer. My team wasn’t playing which meant I was stuck for an excuse to get out of the house.
There’s only one problem with moping in your room for a whole day with no one to talk to. You have no one to talk to. Seeing as Meira was also avoiding me and I didn’t have any friends to speak of in our new town, it left me, myself, and I with no other company than my rapidly deteriorating thoughts.
I was never so happy to pull the covers over my head and call it a day. I felt way sorrier for myself than I ever had before. Not to say I cried myself to sleep, but there were definitely tears involved in the whole pathetic process.
My life was so unfair it made me want to break something.
I was startled out of my mourning by a weight landing on the bed, followed by a loud hiss barely preceding something sharp catching the sleeve of my pajamas. A heavy, fluffy tail whacked me full in the face as the claws retracted and let me go. I spit out fur and hit the light by my bed, relieved to have something to finally laugh about as the offended party huffed and snarled next to me.
The lamp flared to life. I stifled a giggle behind my hands. My silver Persian, Sassafras, hunched in an undignified heap next to me. His plush, silky fur stood on end, pushed-in nose glistened between eyes snapping anger, plume of a tail thrashing against the patchwork quilt as he growled at me.
“I go away for one day and you lose it!” Sassafras swiped at me with one paw.
I rolled over onto my side and tried to pet him. “Maybe if you were here, Sassy, none of this would have happened.”
I pulled back and sucked on the finger he scratched.
“Don’t you even suggest this is my fault!”
“Can we please let it go? I’m tired of the whole conversation.” I wasn’t in the mood to argue with my cat.
“I happen to be trapped in this stupid cat body, in case you’ve forgotten,” he said, gaze flashing red fire as the spirit within him kindled. “Stuck in this house with you. And you’re making me
look bad. How am I supposed to convince them to let me go back if you won’t smarten up?”
Sassafras was, in reality, a demon teenager, a boy so horrible the demon elders punished him by placing him in the body of an ordinary house cat. Okay, maybe not ordinary. He was a Persian, after all. As much as I wanted to know why and how he was forced into it, he never said. Not to me and not to the generations of Hayle witches who had the pleasure of Sassafras for company over the decades.
“So after what, 150 years or so, they were finally going to let you out, but because I had a fight with my parents it’s a no-go? Sass, I’m hurt you didn’t tell me.”
I probably shouldn’t have been teasing him, but it was way too easy. Sass’s ears flattened to his skull. “Oh, shut up.”
Truth was, I don’t think they ever planned to let him out. Which made me feel guilty for being mean to him.
“I’m sorry, Sassy.”
He hissed at me, fat cat body relaxing somewhat as the initial reaction wore off. The tail continued its thrashing against the covers.
“Don’t call me Sassy.”
I grabbed him and hugged him to me, burying my face in his soft, thick fur, trapping him in my arms. I grinned as he struggled, snuggling him closer.
“Oh Sassy,” I said in my cutest little girl voice, “you’re my bestest friend ever!”
When I released him, he spun around, shaking with anger. I tried really hard not to laugh, but it was next to impossible with him staring me down, pushed-in face a study in crankiness, fluffy fur quivering. I simply couldn’t take Sass seriously.
The worst part? Sassafras knew it and despised it. Was being punished with it. I certainly wasn’t helping matters any.
I pulled myself under control and tried to make amends.
“Seriously, Sass, I’m sorry. But I didn’t have a choice. They backed me into a corner.”
He huffed a breath and wrapped his tail around his paws, deep in his haughty cat manner. The tip of his tail continued to twitch, but the rest of him appeared under control.
