Family Magic

by Patti Larsen

  “It won’t happen,” I shook my head. “It just won’t.”

  Even Uncle Frank was on Dad’s side on this one.

  “Syd,” he said, “as much as I hate they lied to you about this, your dad isn’t lying now. You need to figure out a way to control this before it takes you over. I’m amazed they have let you get away with it for as long as you have.”

  “We didn’t know how powerful she was,” Dad told him over me. “It was the first time any of us felt the edges of it, she’s suppressed it for so long.”

  “And?” Uncle Frank said.

  “She scared her mother,” Dad whispered.

  Frank stared.

  “She has no edges,” my father said.

  Frank went a little paler, hard for a vampire who hasn’t eaten all day.

  As for me, I just held myself and shook.

  ***

  Chapter Seventeen

  My stomach growled as I waited for the volleyball to come my way, a slight distraction but not enough to take the edge off of my newfound aggression.

  My Thursday was half over and gym class was near the end, too. Volleyball wasn’t normally my favorite sport. Except for soccer, I wasn’t all that athletic. I also hated the school’s excuse for a gym. The big room huddled around us, dank and windowless, lit by buzzing fluorescents that gave me a light headache every time I walked in. It reeked of old sweat, floor polish and a history of nerds being thrashed by bulky jocks with nothing better to do.

  I discovered whacking at something repeatedly despite the surroundings appeared to be good for the soul.

  At least the state my soul was in.

  I tried not to think about the day before and willed it from my memory as I dove for the ball, contacting not only with it but with Suzanne Parker, one of Alison’s cronies.

  She glared at me like I killed her puppy.

  Suck it up, I thought, giving her the blank face back.

  “You’re dead,” she whispered before going back to her place.

  Like I was worried. In fact, Team Alison was the very least of my concerns. Hadn’t I just found out I was trapped forever with no escape possible?

  Suzanne’s little threat seemed pathetic compared to that.

  I went to bed the night before with my head spinning, refusing to talk to anyone, including Uncle Frank. Might have had something to do with the fact I now knew the coven would never let me go. Worse, if I refused to do anything about my power for much longer they would force me to deal with it. I don’t know if I was mad at my uncle for not telling me sooner or angry at him for making Dad tell me the truth, as odd as that sounds. As for Mom… well, I had no intention of sharing anything of importance with her any time soon.

  I fled the house that morning with no breakfast, no lunch bag and couldn’t care less. Of course, my stomach had other ideas, but it was pretty easy to ignore. All I had to do was start thinking about the mess that was my life and everything else went away.

  The hard part was not thinking about it. A little stomach growling and empty threats from a silly girl were welcome right about then.

  As I moved positions, I took a hard hit from behind. I ended up on my knees on the floor. I rolled off of them, examining both even though I knew they were roughed up pretty good. I glared up at Suzanne’s grinning face and let the anger out into my eyes.

  She would have screamed if she could have caught her breath.

  I quickly suppressed the power, cursing at myself as the unpleasant coppery taste of the demon faded from my mouth now flooded with saliva from my usual bout of nausea. Uncle Frank was right, after all. I couldn’t even keep from flashing magic at a dumb bully whose idea of retaliation was skinning my knees.

  Suzanne backed away from me and into the crowd of girls. They all whispered and pointed. I kicked myself harder. I glanced away only to see Quaid staring at me with that dark grin on his face. He bowed his head to me. I shot him a frown and climbed to my feet.

  I wasn’t sure what I was going to say to Suzanne to diffuse the situation. In fact, I was pretty sure short of wiping the memory there wasn’t much I could say. I was still wrapped up in finding an answer when I noticed Mr. Murphy, the gym teacher, waving at me. I glared one last time at Suzanne and crew and jogged on my sore knees across the gym. I didn’t know Quaid was right beside me.

  I glanced over at him as the balding teacher, more nerd than jock, gave us both the thumb-jerk.

  “You two are called to the office,” was all he said. He trotted back to the center of the gym in his short-shorts and knee socks, blowing his whistle.

  I ran to get changed. It took about a minute. I hit the stairs to the office.

  I froze at the top as Erica spotted me. It wasn’t the fact it was Erica, exactly. She radiated fear.

  My heart started to pound as I heard Quaid jog up the stairs to stop beside me. Erica hurried forward to both of us, trying to smile and failing miserably.

  “We need to go,” she said, turned and went out the front doors, leaving with us or without us, it seemed.

  What happened? Quaid and I exchanged another look. He grinned at me and followed her. I gave myself another second to get my heart under control.

  The very fact Erica was driving my mother’s Mustang shot fear through me. I froze by the passenger door. Erica shoved her sunglasses up on the bridge of her nose.

  “It’s not Miriam,” she said. “We have to hurry, Syd, please.”

  Now that I knew my mom was all right, I obeyed, climbing in the front seat, wincing as Quaid slid over the paint to slide into the back. It only occurred to me after Erica peeled out of the parking lot I shouldn’t care one way or another if Mom was okay.

  “Are you going to fill us in?” I clutched at the door as Erica took a corner hard, feeling the seat belt dig in.

  “There’s been an accident,” she said, voice tense, focused on the road, driving as fast as she could without flipping the car.

  “Who?” Quaid leaned forward, sticking his head between the seats.

  “Seat belt,” Erica said. Quaid leaned back. I heard the snap of the buckle as he obeyed her order. Funny, but I didn’t believe Quaid was a follow orders kind of guy. Guess I hadn’t pegged him as well as I thought.

  “The Vegas,” Erica said. “Louisa and Martin. They’ve both been... injured.”

  Injured didn’t sound right, but I let it go.

  “And you need us why?” I held on as she spun into the driveway of a small bungalow. The street outside looked packed with cars. Kind of early in the day for a party.

  Erica unbelted and slammed the door of the Mustang before I even caught my breath.

  “Come on, you two!” She ran up the driveway in her high-heeled sandals. She disappeared through the front entry.

  I climbed out as Quaid vaulted himself over the side of the convertible. I didn’t even bother to check for scratches. Wouldn’t be my butt on the line if the car was hurt. He was already ahead of me by the time I started to the house.

  Something triggered a huge case of the goose bumps. I turned around and came face to face with the big black dog from down the street. He sat on his haunches at the end of the driveway, barely twenty feet from me.

  A strange feeling I distantly recognize pinged. My demon reached out and swatted him.

  The dog shook his massive head as though he were hit with something. He stood up and trotted off. I watched him go around the back of the house and out of sight. I gave myself a little hug. Stupid dog, what was his problem? At least I found out he didn’t like magic. Good to know for next time.

  I gathered myself together and went inside. I didn’t need to follow the sound of chanting to know the Vegas would be in their basement. I made my way across the tidy modern kitchen smelling of fresh herbs and home cooked meals. I went slowly down the stairs, pushing through the ring of power almost sealed off. I barely made it to the bottom of the steps before the circle closed with me inside. I shuddered as every hair on my body stood up from the charged
air.

  I stayed in back as much as I could, trying to avoid tripping over the big deep freezer hugging the side of the stairway. I peeked around shoulders and heads and the occasional bunch of drying flowers to try to figure out what happened. I maneuvered enough to be able to see and had to suppress a gasp.

  I had known Louisa and Martin Vega since I was a small child. I always liked the cheerful Puerto Rican couple. Neither over five and a half feet, their round, brown faces were always full of smiles, chocolate eyes adoring, at least to me. They looked so much alike I mistook them for brother and sister when I was young. They were a perfect matched set of love and happiness. The best part? Louisa was a phenomenal cook who insisted everything she made had to be heavily sampled to assure the quality. They doted on me when I was little, being childless themselves. Despite my dislike for the coven, they had a special place in my memories.

  What I saw in that basement made my heart ache. The middle-aged couple crouched together in a writhing ball of sickly, greenish light, square in the center of their pentagram. I was only guessing, but what I did remember of my basic witchcraft told me it was only that very symbol keeping them alive.

  They held each other within the gyrating sphere, flinching over and over. When I saw fresh blood appear on Louisa’s smooth, mocha cheek, it made sense. Whatever made up the sphere was not only holding them, it attacked them as well. My heart pounded in my chest, fear for them rising. My attention fell away from them and to Mom as she stepped forward, fueled by the family’s magic.

  She raised her arms and pushed against the sphere, testing its edges. I felt my power surface and start to drain as she increased the pressure. I glanced around me and saw the signs of strain on the faces of the other members. Here and there the weaker ones started dropping off, sinking to the floor, covered in cold sweat. Still, Mom pushed, her face twisted in concentration. More and more witches fell away, but she refused to quit.

  “Miriam!” Batsheva shrieked at her. “You have to stop!”

  My mother shook her head.

  “Almost,” she panted, “there...”

  Erica collapsed in front of me. I reached for her in time to ease her to the floor. I caught a glimpse of Quaid, sweat pouring over his crimson face as he struggled.

  I realized unlike everyone else, I wasn’t feeling the effects of the power drain. Whether she wasn’t taking as much from me or I was holding my own, I had no idea. But I knew if someone didn’t do something soon, the whole coven would collapse, used up, and the Vegas could possibly die.

  I turned back to the writhing couple and saw quite clearly what my mother was doing wrong. The sphere fed off of the collective, siphoning into itself. Why didn’t she see it? I considered calling out to her, even took a step forward, but stopped myself at the last second. She was very close to totally committing the coven to the battle. If I broke her concentration now, the effects could be devastating.

  Instead, I returned my attention to the ball of light and really looked this time. I had never seen green power before and yet there was so much about it that felt familiar and even ordinary. Yet, I’d only witnessed the amber and blue of the family. It made me wonder about its origins.

  It was then I saw the sphere was only stable if the connection to the origin remained intact. That connection trailed off, the end of it already shattered and fading like smoke. Trouble was, that source wasn’t necessary any longer. The pool of energy was now feeding on the witches around me. Pouring power into it to break it wasn’t helping, it was making things worse. The shunt where the original power focused was the weak link.

  I knew what to do. Not thinking or planning or even realizing I was acting, I reached out and brushed the edge of it, my demon magic tearing it open while I absorbed the thin string that remained of the green magic into my own body like it was coming home.

  Two very spectacular things happened in that instant.

  One, my demon roared to life and tore through the membrane, releasing the Vegas.

  And two, the instant collapse sent a huge wave crashing back as all the stolen power returned at once.

  Three quarters of those assembled ended up physically propelled into the walls as their magic slammed back into them. The rest ended up collapsing in a near faint from the rush. Mom stood swaying on her feet, face blank with shock. I made it across the room to her side and took her arm, just in time to help support her before she fell.

  One shaking hand went to her forehead, pushing her damp black curls back away from her face. She peered up at me, confused, dazed, her fingers brushing my cheek.

  “Syd?” She whispered. “What happened?”

  I didn’t get a chance to speak.

  “That untrained child of yours happened,” Dominic snapped at her, glaring at me at the same time.

  Mom pulled herself straighter and frowned at him.

  “What are you talking about?” Mom said.

  Dominic pointed at me, glaring around the room, drawing the rest of the coven in. “That demon child of yours almost killed us all, Miriam, including you!”

  I felt like he physically slapped me across the face. Of all the ungrateful...! I opened my mouth to snap something back. Mom’s hand tightened on my arm. I took the hint.

  “Syd did nothing of the sort,” she said, getting her balance back as she reabsorbed her power. “I advise you to watch your accusations, Dominic, when it comes to my family.”

  Batsheva stepped forward, silencing her husband with a glare. The smile she offered Mom was weak.

  “You were too deep inside of it, Miriam,” Batsheva said, her eyes flickering to me. “You couldn’t see what happened. But we all did.”

  There were a great many nods, some shamefaced, but others angry.

  I’m not sure how things would have ended up, ultimately, if the coven had turned against my mother at that moment, with emotions running high already and all that magic crackling around us. Fortunately, we were never to know.

  Louisa groaned at my feet. I fell beside her, helping her sit up. Martin was a close second. Mom crouched next to me, supporting him. Louisa looked up at me, her skin flawless and unmarked. She hugged me, sobbing.

  I sat there on the floor with her, holding her, rubbing her back, feeling a little weird and embarrassed about comforting a grown woman, but her grip on me was so tight I didn’t have much of a choice.

  It was Martin who leaned in and kissed my cheek, tears running down his face.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  Everyone fell silent, as floored as we were.

  “For what?” I asked. Louisa pulled back, her mocha skin streaked with tears. She gripped my face in her hands and kissed me soundly.

  “For saving our lives,” she said.

  A huge sigh ran through the witches. I saw my mother smiling and felt the warmth of the family embrace me like a hug.

  I did my best not to wink at Dominic and Batsheva.

  ***

  Chapter Eighteen

  I was getting tired of the same argument going around the kitchen, especially since it was about me and proceeded as if I wasn’t even in the room. Always nice to be ignored.

  The Vegas insisted that without my intervention and whatever it was I did, they would not have survived and possibly taken the whole coven and half the neighborhood with them. And yet, Mom was still forced to face the challenge Dominic raised about me.

  We may not have been talking to each other right then, but my mother was totally on my side. Which was a huge surprise.

  “It’s irrelevant,” Dominic said for the hundredth time so even his supporters were getting tired of him. “The child is obviously a menace and needs her power restricted.”

  My mother laughed. And laughed. And laughed some more. The family stared at her after a while, even Erica. Dominic’s face turned two more shades of purple.

  Mom finally wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

  “If you can figure out a way,” she said, “to restrict that kind of
power, you’re a better witch than I am.”

  He scowled at her. “Exactly my point.”

  Mom leaned on the counter with her arms crossed over her chest. She finally looked at me, something she hadn’t done since the basement, her expression neutral.

  “Maybe we should let Syd tell us what happened before we jump to conclusions about her.”

  I was the center of attention while being the center of attention. Crappy.

  “I’m not sure,” I said, voice catching. I cleared my throat and spoke up. “I just...” I reached out vaguely, brushing the air with my fingertips, not sure how to explain what I had seen or done.

  Dominic snorted and turned away but Batsheva smiled at me so I tried again.

  “I saw the coven’s power being... stolen? Used? By the other energy. So I... cut off the connection? I’m not explaining this right,” I shook my head, frustrated.

  “You’re doing fine, honey,” Mom said.

  “That was how it felt,” Martin said. “Like we were drawing power from all of you and couldn’t stop the drain. Then we felt Syd,” he said, “and her demon touched us, broke the link between us and the other.”

  “It was so sudden,” Louisa said, “we didn’t have time to brace ourselves.”

  “Dangerous!” Dominic snapped. “Dangerous and impulsive and untrained!”

  “The recoil would have happened anyway,” Louisa snapped back. “We felt it building. Miriam,” she turned to my mother, earnest, concerned, “whatever happened, whatever corrupted the spell, it never intended to keep the magic contained.”

  “Are you saying this was an attack?” Mom stood up straighter.

  Martin and Louisa shared a glance before both shook their heads.

  “We’re not sure,” Louisa answered. “But whatever happened, if you fed any more of the coven’s power into it, none of us would be here to have this conversation.”