Family Magic

by Patti Larsen

  “You always have a choice,” he said. “And now I’m suffering the consequences.”

  “Like what?” I felt less than sympathetic.

  “Like spending the last two hours comforting your traumatized sister.”

  Oops.

  “She won’t talk to me.” I wasn’t proud of it, but there it was.

  “Can you blame her?”

  “No,” I said, falling back into miserable. “I didn’t want to have that talk in front of her, but… they wouldn’t let me go. I didn’t think it would hurt her that much.”

  “Now, that’s hardly surprising,” he said. “Thinking isn’t exactly your strong suit, is it, Sydlynn?”

  Sass lifted one forepaw and began to lick it with delicate strokes of his very pink tongue. I think his show of superiority calmed his nerves. I wrinkled my nose at him and rested my head on my arm. There was something about the act of watching him I found soothing.

  “Not last night, at least.” I reached out one hand and touched his tail. He batted at me out of principle and started washing his other paw.

  “Both feet in your mouth this time?”

  Sometimes his arrogance pissed me off. Not tonight. He was right and we both knew it. Instead of giving him the satisfaction of a reply, I kept watching him. “You are so cute when you do that.”

  Sass froze and glared, dropping his paw with a flicker of guilt in the twitch of his whiskers.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He stalked down the bed, back to me. “There’s nothing cute about me.”

  I stifled a giggle as the offending paw came up again. He compulsively licked away at the imaginary dirt.

  “Oh Sass, I needed this. Thanks.”

  Sassafras turned back to me, curious.

  “Tell me you didn’t make your mother cry?”

  I buried my face in the quilt. Sass groaned, large ears twitching as he made his way back up the bed to me.

  “I didn’t mean to,” I said, muffled by the heavy blanket. “She’s just… so… ah!”

  “You never mean to, Syd.” His voice was soft by my ear.

  I turned my head and we were eye to eye. “Yeah. I know. Maybe if she’d drop the company line we’d stop using each other for target practice.”

  Sassafras curled up next to me, tail swept tightly to his round cat body, eyes careful.

  “You know you can’t keep doing this. You need to accept who you are and take responsibility for your actions. You’re almost a grown woman. No one is feeling sorry for you anymore.”

  “You’re awfully opinionated for a fur ball, Sass.”

  “I have been guiding Hayle witches for generations,” he reminded me at his most haughty. “You are the only one who refuses to pay attention and take her rightful place.”

  “With all the joy that implies,” I said.

  “It’s your birthright,” he said. “There is no one else, Syd.”

  “Meira is more than strong enough. And she’s willing. So there, cat.”

  Sass growled low in his throat, glaring at me, tail twitching again. “Do you really think they will allow a witch with a physical manifestation to take over the coven?”

  “Sorry?” I felt goose bumps rise on my arms as his power snapped in anger.

  “Honestly, Sydlynn,” he said, “you are so out of touch with the network.”

  “Duh. My point exactly.”

  His amber eyes fixed on me unblinking in his cat way that made me squirm in discomfort.

  “Your sister will never lead this family,” Sass told me, so matter-of-fact I was forced to listen. “If you choose to step aside, the coven will leave Hayle control forever.”

  “As if. Sass, you are so paranoid.”

  “I know them far better than you do,” he said with some bitterness. “Witches do not accept outsiders easily and resist any change to their natural order.”

  “So? I don’t care, remember? I want out.”

  “Then you are effectively handing over the strength of the most powerful coven in the West to whoever is deemed worthy at the time,” he said. “Do you understand what that means?”

  “You’re obviously going to fill me in.”

  “You’ll be cutting your mother’s throat,” he said. “And any other Hayle witch remaining alive.”

  I made a face at him. “They would never hurt her. You’re so full of crap.”

  I started to get up, but his paw hooked my sleeve and pulled me back down.

  “Have you ever seen a witch stripped?” His face turned intense, even for a Persian, eyes glowing. “Cleaned out, reduced to nothing?”

  “No.”

  “I have,” he said, “the last time the magic changed hands. To your family.”

  I settled back on the bed, curious. “You were here with the Tremere’s?” Even I knew basic history. But, I always thought Sass was a Hayle addition.

  He snorted. “You have no idea.” He pulled his paw back. “None. Of what they can do, what they are capable of. Of the interference a change in power can attract from the High Council. Of the disruption it can cause in our world and to the normals. It’s not a small thing, Syd. Not a trifle, not something to be tossed away simply because you don’t want it. There are far more serious repercussions in this than your parents have been willing to tell you.”

  Okay. He had me curious, I was willing to admit it. And a little afraid, to be honest. “Then fill me in.”

  He glared at me again, silent. Sassafras stood and turned away, curling up with his back to me.

  “I thought you weren’t interested.”

  I groaned. Stupid cat.

  “Sass…”

  “Forget it,” he said. “Go on your merry way and forget we all exist. Let your coven fall to ruin, your family be stripped bare and left to pick the bones of its own carcass. You’ve always been selfish, Sydlynn. Why change now?”

  “Selfish!” I gave his tail a firm tug, so hard he leapt up and spun on me. “You rotten little fuzz ball!”

  “Selfish! Petulant, childish, ignorant, arrogant—“

  “Oh, I’m arrogant!” How dare he, the puffed up, self-important snot? “I just want to be normal. Unlike you, mister nose-in-the-air, better than anyone else!”

  Sass sat and wrapped his thick tail around himself, pulling his best perfect Persian.

  “It’s in the breeding,” he said. “Obviously, you were a throw-back. Pity, really.”

  “Like you even give a crap,” I said. “You know how using my magic makes me feel.” My hand went instinctively to my stomach as memory flashed and my stomach tightened in answer.

  “Ah, yes.” He flicked his ears at me. “Poor Sydlynn’s dear tummy troubles. Tell me, little girl, do you need your mommy?”

  If I could have, if I thought I would get away with it, I would have dunked his fluffy butt in a full tub of water just to see that smug smirk wiped from his face. But, he would use magic on me and we’d end up attracting unwanted attention over a stupid fight I knew I couldn’t win.

  Instead, I chose a subtler means of attack. I reached out and gently stroked his fur from head to tail.

  His gaze widened a little, narrowed, lids drooping as I found a sensitive place to scratch. A soft purr escaped him. His eyes half closed. They snapped open a moment later and the purr stopped.

  “Don’t try to change the subject.”

  “Would I do that?” I continued to stroke him, my fingers finding the itchy place behind his left ear. The purr started up again, rumbling louder. His lids closed all the way. I smiled as he leaned into my fingers while trying to continue the conversation.

  “Your mother… knows what’s best for… little to the right, please, yes perfect… for the family… for you… the chin is really bothersome tonight, could you…?”

  I grinned and followed his instructions. His body relaxed completely. He half rolled onto his back so I could rub his furry tummy. His whole posture was a study in pure contentment. His eyes drifted open and closed, clo
uded by pleasure.

  I couldn’t help it. I giggled. Sass snapped back to himself and twisted free, pinning me with his hot demon glare.

  “Damned cat body.”

  It really was impossible to resist. I giggled some more.

  Sassafras leapt to his feet and sniffed at me, at his most pompous.

  “Fine,” he said, “be a child. Betray your family, your history, but don’t come crying to us when you change your mind and nothing can be done.”

  Sassafras gathered himself up and jumped from the end of the bed. I watched him sashay across the carpet to the closed door. He paused, staring at it. I stifled a huge grin. He sighed with great regret, not looking at me.

  “If you don’t mind,” he said. “It’s very hard to make an exit when I can’t reach the door knob.”

  “How’d you get in?” I knew the answer. His glare turned flat and chilly. “Use your magic,” I said at my most innocent.

  He growled softly under his breath. “You know it’s against the rules,” he said very slowly, very carefully.

  He was so transparent. Heaven forbid I ever see him do magic. He used the excuse he wasn’t allowed, which was kind of true seeing as pure demon magic interfered with ours, but I knew the truth. From what I had been able to get out of my mother, the act of using his power put him in an embarrassing physical position. He was, after all, a cat, not a demon anymore. The idea of it often kept me up nights, devoured by curiosity, but I had never been able to catch him at it.

  I went to the door and opened it for him, still trying not to laugh.

  “Thank you,” he said at his most aloof.

  Head high, tail at full mast, and with as much dignity as he could gather around him, Sassafras waddled his fat cat body out of my room.

  I barely had time to close the door and fling myself onto my bed, before breaking into laughter, smothering most of it in my pillow.

  I laughed for a good minute, tears soaking into the cotton case as I let the last of the tension leave me completely. I rolled over onto my back when I regained control and let go of a cleansing breath, staring at the hideous light fixture my mother hung for me despite my protests. Stupid pink chandelier with its stupid pink crystals and sparkly stars. Who did she think I was? I really hated it, I think more so because Mom insisted. The story of my life with the Hayle coven. Do what’s good for you because we said so. The more I turned it over in my mind the more I totally understood it wasn’t so much my ability but the absolute weight of expectation, a literal force of gravity on my shoulders, pushing me down into a mold of their making.

  I had a chill at the thought of my family reduced to nothing because of my decisions. I finally shook it off. Sass just exaggerated to try to make me feel bad.

  At least, that was what I told myself.

  ***

  Chapter Five

  When I woke up in the morning, two things hit me. One, I wasted my sunny Sunday on being stupid and two, now it was Monday and I had to go to school. I groaned and covered my eyes with my arm to block out the cheerful sun. Surely there was a way to rewind the last day and do it over again?

  Somehow, I didn’t think Mom would get the concept.

  I pulled myself out of bed. One great thing about our new house, I shared a bathroom with Meira and she was too young to appreciate it.

  I tried to avoid looking at myself in the mirror, knowing I wouldn’t like what I saw staring back at me. Despite the fact I was still a little peeved at my mom, I knew I overreacted. I just didn’t know what to do to fix it. If I tried to apologize, she’d get all squishy and cry and want to hug me and tell me she loved me. Whatever. But if I let it go on too long… oh, the guilt would be legendary.

  I decided to bite the bullet as I attacked my teeth with my toothbrush, managing to finally look myself in the eye. I wanted to get it over with so at least one dreadful part of the day could be done before the true horror started.

  I dressed carefully, neatly even, not my typical weekend fare of ‘who cares if it matches’. I wasn’t dressing for Mom’s benefit or even my own. I selected only those items I hoped would help me pass as normal. Designer jeans just the right rise, a logo t-shirt that fit a little too tight, trendy belt I wouldn’t normally be caught dead in and high-heeled sandals—see belt. I checked my makeup and hair in my mirror and added a touch of pale pink lip-gloss before tossing the tube in my up-to-date book bag. I’ll say one thing for Mom, she would buy me anything I asked for. Thank goodness she stopped insisting on helping me pick out clothes. If she had her way, I’d stand out even more than I did. Might as well have tattooed ‘freak’ across my forehead. Bad enough most normals can ‘feel’ a witch’s aura even if they don’t know what we are. Most normals feel uncomfortable around us and don’t know why. Everything I did screamed average, ordinary, All-American girl and I was still labeled as an outcast at school. If I pushed down my power any further, I’d fall asleep.

  I inspected the final ensemble and shrugged. Best I could do.

  I made it to the kitchen before Meira went to the bus. I forced her to at least hug and kiss me before leaving, though she squirmed and made faces the whole time. She wouldn’t meet my gaze and I could tell she already spent some time that morning in tears.

  Meira donned her human appearance and ran to catch her ride to school. She made normal seem so easy. She could cast the illusion of pale white skin and dark blue eyes, smudging out her cute little horns in the process so the other girls in her grade didn’t run screaming. Her real appearance would have sent the whole school screaming, for that matter. I watched out the window as she waved at a pair of other little coven girls and took a seat next to them, talking rapidly and laughing as the bus pulled away.

  “No fair,” I whispered. Meira was better at all of it than me. Not to mention the fact most of the other kids in the group were either way younger or way older than I was. So, no instant friends for me, but at least she was able to feel like she fit in somewhere.

  By the time I turned around to talk to Mom and get it over with, she had already left. I stood there in the streaming sunlight. I tried to find balance between the normalness of the modern kitchen and the secret of our real lives. How to compare gleaming stainless steel appliances covered in Meira’s drawings, bright, cheery cupboards and whimsical mugs painted with daisies against the reality of magic? What did lace curtains have to do with who we were? China and place settings? Why was there such a divide for me between who I wanted to be and who I was forced to pretend to be? I had never been able to find a balance, to accept the melding of the two and knew it was part of the reason I struggled so much with being a witch.

  That train of thought took me nowhere. I shook it off and briefly considered tracking my mother down. I decided to leave it until after school. As it was, I barely had time after my excessive primping routine to grab a granola bar and my lunch bag and hit the pavement to make it the six blocks to school before the first bell.

  October was already almost over. The quiet town of Wilding Springs, Pennsylvania, displayed cute ghosts, witches and carved pumpkins on every doorstep. The weather was still perfect, warm during the day, cooler at night, but I saw the trees turning colors on my walk to school and regretted the coming of winter, mostly because it meant the end of the outdoor soccer season.

  Wilding Springs seemed like a typical small town, with one exception. The place was so clean it sparkled. Old brick buildings filled the historic center, all trimmed in pristine white. Cobbled stones polished with age made up the main street, perfectly maintained despite having been there for well over a century. Cute shops stuffed with offerings from local artists, homemade baked goods and touristy trinkets lined the picture quality little town square. There wasn’t a mall to be seen, the closest one a twenty-minute ride on the interstate. Any outward appearance of modern life hid gently behind history and tasteful cheer. It reminded me so much of a movie set I kept looking around for the camera crew.

  This was also the first town we li
ved in I felt had an air of the supernatural all its own. I knew my mom checked it before our last move, but I couldn’t help but get the feeling we now lived in the land of make-believe. The residents were too much, their lives too charming. Everyone had a home that looked like gingerbread cutouts of cuteness, scrolling detail at eave and doorway. Each neat, tidy lawn freshly mowed, the people friendly to a fault.

  Everyone else assimilated nicely, even commenting on how sweet and lovely Wilding Springs could be. Everyone except… okay. Never mind. We had only been living there for a month, but I already established myself as the weird Junior who tried too hard. At least, that was my impression. I stopped smiling at people on my walk to school and adopted the blank expression I saw on the faces of the other students. Problem with moving to a small town, everyone knows everyone and no one wants to hang out with the weird new girl who didn’t fit in anywhere, least of all her own coven. Sadly enough, I didn’t want to hang out with me, either, so I could hardly blame them.

  I was way past tired of moving from town to town and being forced to start over. Just another of the things I swore to myself I would put an end to when I turned eighteen and was on my official ‘list of things Syd will never do to her own kids ever.’ But when you live in a family of witches, weird stuff happens, stuff which might accidentally involve the neighbors, which means a quick move in the middle of the night to a whole new state so no one gets arrested.

  Normals usually don’t want to know magic is happening across the street, but if you shove their noses in it, things can get ugly. Last time was Gram’s fault. A little mid-day spell at the local hairdresser. I’m sure the blue eventually washed out of that lady’s hair. Served her right, though, for being nasty.

  The time before that had been my mom’s doing, but she was defending Meira so I totally got it.

  Needless to say, due to one mistake or another, I was forced countless times to start at a new school, suss out the cool kids, try to make new friends and just generally fit in.