by Patti Larsen
I had Superwoman for a mom.
“And the boy?” Celeste said. “What of the boy?”
My heart dropped. “He is innocent,” I said.
“You speak for him, Sydlynn?” Mom asked.
My eyes locked on him. He bowed his head to me with one of his smirks and stepped forward, smile fading as he faced my mother.
“I seek asylum in the coven,” he said. “I’m too young yet to leave them on my own. I need your permission to break from them and be free.”
Mom’s fingertips brushed his cheek.
“Granted,” she said. I didn’t miss the speculative look she gave me out of the corner of her eye.
“It is done, then,” she said, magic carrying it to the furthest corner of the crowd. She turned to face Batsheva and Dominic. The sadness in her face aged her.
“I hereby cast you out,” she said, “and order you to be taken before the High Council to be judged for your crimes. Have you anything to say?”
Batsheva stopped wailing. She stared at my mother with such pure hatred I had to force myself to keep from putting my body between them.
“Only that I will have my revenge on you,” she snarled at my mother, “and your family. There is far more to this than you know, fool. I am not the only one who you must fear. Do you really think I acted alone in this? You have overstepped yourself, and you will be punished for it.”
We all frowned. What was she talking about? My mother showed nothing.
“I pity you, Batsheva,” she said, and meant it.
She couldn’t have hurt the other witch more if she kicked her in the face. Batsheva’s whole body shuddered with fury, wanting to lash out but unable.
“I will have your power for my own, Miriam Hayle,” she howled, madness taking her. “And when you fall, I will dance on your shallow grave!”
It was only then I saw she was bleeding. She cut her hand with a sharp rock. Using her own life force as an energy source in the charged circle of the site, she threw herself completely into the darkness of her evil. A dull, shuddering portal oozed to life next to her. My whole being flinched from the rank stench blowing outward as it surged to life. Batsheva, her free hand already gripping Dominic, leapt for the hole and vanished, taking her groveling husband with her.
No one moved as the wash of her spell imploded and dissipated, unable to hold shape in the presence of so much positive magic.
“Mom,” I hissed. “We can’t let them get away!”
“They won’t,” she whispered. “Not for long. They will be hunted down by the Enforcers and destroyed.” Mom drew me to her for a quick hug. Despite her feelings of regret, I was more than happy they were going to be someone else’s problem from now on.
Besides, there were other questions needing answers.
“What was she talking about?” I asked her. “Who is after you? Are we in more trouble?”
My calm and peaceful mother refused to answer. I clenched my teeth but held my tongue. I’d get it out of her sooner or later. Preferably sooner. I was willing to offer her a grace period, considering.
It was a beautiful morning.
“Come,” Mom said as the sun cleared the horizon and lit the site, “we have work to do. Samhain is here. Today we say goodbye to summer.”
The witches broke up into small groups. They went about their appointed tasks, radiating joy and peace, to clean and reset the site for the real ceremony. Despite everything that happened, they felt whole again. Just like that. Could everything possibly go back to normal? Really?
I was shocked by the very thought, but not so much by the effortless re-fusion of the magic and the coven as much as my mother’s intentions.
“You can’t be serious,” I said. “Mom, don’t you think we’ve all had about enough magic for one day?”
She glowed with happiness. It lit her eyes, her whole being. I knew I could only ever dream of being as beautiful as my mother, her jet black hair on fire from behind by the rising sun, tall, slender body strong and confident, stunning face creasing with warmth and love.
“Oh, Syd,” she laughed at me, “There’s no such thing as too much magic.”
For once I decided to agree with her.
***
Chapter Thirty Nine
It’s funny how happy endings can leave you feeling empty.
I know I should have been overjoyed at the prospect of surviving the whole nasty mess, but it was hard when there was still so much I struggled with.
Like my new friends, for example. I was grateful none of what happened spilled out into the normal world so that we weren’t forced to move again. I finally had some friends and I was finding I enjoyed that very much. But, the fear lay around the next corner, at the next crisis. I knew we could be forced to run and I would lose them all. I really wanted to commit to them but I held myself back and I know they felt it.
Still, I was grateful to Alison for keeping it together and giving me a safe place to go and be ordinary. All of the bullying died off. I was starting to enjoy school for the first time in my life. Imagine that.
Then there was the Brad problem. He wanted to date me, but I resisted. How could I possibly take advantage of him knowing the only reason he wanted to be with me was a latent talent he didn’t even know he had? No way, not going down that dark and dismal road. If only there was a way get rid of him gently. But no matter how many times I said no, he kept asking. I knew if he asked enough, I’d weaken. The whole ‘just want to be friends’ thing had already worn thin. I wanted him to kiss me again.
I didn’t even want to consider the Quaid issue. Now that he was a permanent member of the coven, he was around all the time. Despite the fact I was attracted to him and knew he was to me, I was not going there, either. Every time I was around him, the demon wanted to touch him and feel his energy. I did my very best to keep her out, so any contact with him was horribly counterproductive.
There was still the issue of Batsheva’s parting remarks to work through. Mom ignored all of my attempts to grill her on what it meant and whether I should take it seriously. She still had frustrating down to a science.
And yes, despite the agreement I made with my mother, I still resisted her attempts to make me learn magic. She was so distracted by her new-won powers she wasn’t pushing the issue, so I had some breathing room. But, I knew as soon as she had those under control, she'd be all over me like a warm blanket.
I wasn’t cold.
Quite the opposite. Fighting tooth and nail against a demon that wants out of her cage can do that to you. Besides, I wasn’t sure what Mom would do when she found out my demon was almost stronger than me and getting more powerful by the day. I was almost ready to volunteer to be locked up but too stubborn to give in.
If only the battle I waged wasn’t one I knew I’d eventually lose.
How much does that suck?
# # #
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***
Check out this sample of the exciting sequel
Book Two of The Hayle Coven Novels
Witch Hunt
***
Chapter One
I had the tune, no problem. It was the words that eluded me. The latest pop song to make it to the top of the charts circled around inside my head, the lyrics begging to be recalled and hummed to the catchy melody. He loves my pain? He loves the rain? He lives in Spain? I struggled as my mind wandered, feeling the right words on the tip of my brain. Damn it, what was that line?
“Syd.”
I was so sure! I sang it in my best friend Alison’s car on the way home… she knew every word, maybe I could call her and get her to tell me. Or I could download the video and find out that way.
“Syd!”
It drove me crazy. I hated when I couldn’t remember stuff like that. My mind wanted to make up new lyrics and I refused to be one of th
ose losers who everyone picked on because they got the words wrong.
“Sydlynn Thaddea Hayle!”
I snapped to attention just in time to lose the wavering shield I was supposed to be holding around the huge red candle in the middle of the pentagram. Too late, the flickering flame went out and my shield collapsed, useless. Kind of like me, at that moment.
I heaved a sigh and slumped forward over my knees, trying not to meet the eyes of the powerful witch now hovering over me with a sour expression on her face. I finally looked up, trying for innocence and barely hitting bored. The tall, beautiful vision of jet-black flowing curls and deep blue eyes scowled so hard it made her cheeks red.
“What exactly was that?”
I shrugged. “Sorry, Mom,” I said. “I guess I got distracted.”
Miriam Hayle, coven leader, witch of unsurpassed power and poise, threw up her hands at me and rolled her eyes.
“Honestly, Sydlynn,” she said, exasperation clearly written, “you need to focus.”
I glared at the extinguished candle. The wick was quite dead, curled and blackened, the wax beneath barely a tiny melted pool, rapidly solidifying. I held the shield for maybe a minute.
“I know,” I said. “I just…”
“What?” Mom crossed her arms over her chest, right foot tapping rapidly on the cement floor as she struggled with her temper. Despite the fact I knew the truth would just drive her over the edge, I had a brain/mouth malfunction.
“There’s this amazing new song on the radio,” I said. “And I just can’t remember how the words go.”
She stared at me for a long moment. For such a long moment I actually winced. Her eyes closed slowly and her jaw clenched. The vein in her forehead lifted to the surface and started to pulse gently. I’m sure I imagined it, but I was certain there was smoke coming out of her ears.
Oh crap.
I tried to backpedal. “I’m sorry, Mom, really,” I said, hoping to head off the inevitable crash and burn we seemed to engage in far too often. “I know I’m supposed to focus. I know I promised I’d learn magic.” After years of refusing to become just another witch in the family coven, resisting and rejecting my heritage and power, I had only a few months before agreed to give it a try without, to that point, a whole lot of result.
Her eyes opened and she looked at me.
I saw it as a good sign. “It’s just not as easy as it looks,” I said.
“At least you understand that much.” Her voice was steadier than I gave her credit for. “Magic, accessing your power, takes concentration, Syd.”
“It never did before.” I felt a little bitter about the whole thing. My demon, the half I got from my father, the Demon Lord Haralthazar, muttered and complained right along with me.
“You were reacting, not acting.” Mom sighed, anger visibly draining out of her. “You have no control, Syd. That’s the problem.”
“So that’s why I’ve been having trouble using my power when there’s nothing important to do.”
Like defend my family from an evil witch and her icky husband who tried to destroy us. Batsheva and Dominic Moromond stirred my desire to learn magic by ousting my mom from her place as head of the coven and trying to drain our whole family of their magic to feed their negative power. That was an easy sell. But not having them as targets made it harder to tap in.
Not to mention the hideously nauseous feeling that came and went when I tried tapping into my magic. I called it a win that the queazies hadn’t shown while I shielded the candle at least.
Had to find the happy somewhere.
“Exactly,” she said. “When you were under attack, it was easy to access your power, to call it up and let it out without compunction. But Syd, that isn’t how it works. Magic is about being calm, focused, attentive to the task at hand, no matter how small,” she lit the candle without looking, erecting a glowing blue shield around it, “or big the situation or threat. If I were to expend all of my power on one thing when I was threatened, what would I do if there were two assailants? Or if it was a trick to draw out my power and weaken me?”
“I know, I know,” I said, lying back on the floor, covering my eyes with my forearm. “I get it, Mom. Really. I suck at this and I waste power. Not to mention I’m uncontrollable and a liability to the family. Happy?”
I heard a rustle and moved my arm. Mom settled on the floor next to me, her flowing silk skirt in an elegant puddle around her. Did she have to be so damned perfect all the time?
“Syd, honey,” she said, “you’re coming to this late. If you had agreed to learn as a child—“
“Yeah, yeah,” I stared at the ceiling. “Old news. My fault again. Nice guilt trip, Mom.”
“I’m just saying,” her voice was mild, a hint of humor in it, “if you hadn’t been such a contrary, hard-headed, strong, willful… Syd, I wouldn’t change you for anything, do you know that?”
“Seriously?” I had a hard time believing her. “Come on, Mom, even I know I’m a major disappointment to the coven. It’s cool. I’m not in denial, or anything.”
My mother actually laughed. I breathed a silent sigh of relief. I much preferred my mother when she wasn’t crying her guilt-laden tears or glaring her Mom-glare at me.
“Syd,” she said, “you have no idea.”
“About?” I sat up and wrapped my arms around my raised knees. I needed a little ego stroking right about then and my mother wasn’t about to let me down.
“You have more power than any of them.” She touched my hair in a way that made me feel six years old, a sappy and distant smile on her face. “And one day, you will lead them in my place.”
I shuddered and pulled away from her.
“No way,” I said. “Not going to happen. Ever.”
“Syd—” she started, but I cut her off.
“You may have me convinced that I need to learn to control this… this…”
“Power?” She was trying not to snicker. I scowled at her.
“Fine. Power. But I’m not leader material.”
“I think you may be wrong about that,” she said in her mysterious way that drove me absolutely around the bend and back again.
“Whatever,” I said, knowing I wouldn’t win the argument and losing patience with the whole thing. “Besides, I won’t have to take over the coven.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because,” I grinned at her, “I fully intend for you to live forever.”
My mother laughed and hugged me.
“I’ll do my best,” she said.
“You’d better,” I answered, trying to block the memory of my crippled and powerless mother, her magic stolen by the Moromonds, barely alive and barely wanting to be.
I leaned back and I know her thoughts were off in the same direction as mine. But, she was way less likely to let it come between me and my lesson. Bummer.
“That being said, shall we try again?”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay,” I said.
She smiled at me. “Begin.”
I drew a deep breath and fought for focus. I stared at the candle, now dark and cold again. Okay, back to task. Light the candle, raise the shield, keep the candle burning. No sweat.
Right. Maybe it would have been easier if my stupid upset stomach didn’t make an appearance all of a sudden. Or if I didn’t have my demon struggling against me, her power pushing against the walls I so carefully raised over the years. Or if I didn’t have those walls in the first place. No one could explain why my demon and I were two separate entities, why she didn’t simply integrate into me, but I knew it had to be tied into the way I felt when I tried to used magic. Aside from my little sister Meira, however, I was really the first human-demon hybrid that any of the coven members had personal contact or experience with. I know it baffled my parents. My dad was clearly mystified. There were children of mixed race born before, but none had the experience I did.
I know my demon blamed me in a lot of ways and I guess she was right. Maybe i
f I just behaved myself and was a good little witch from the get go, none of this would have happened. I did have my doubts, but my demon wasn’t listening to me.
And so, in that moment in the basement, I fought not just her but the horrid, heavy feeling and cold sweats tied to the very protection I created for myself and, ultimately, lost to all three.
As I tried to ease down the wall between us, my demon forced her way through, pushing the barrier roughly aside and venting her frustration with me on the innocent and unassuming stick of wax on the other side of the pentagram.
With a massive puff of black smoke, the candle blew up.
Thank goodness my mom was there. I hunched over, trying not to lose my lunch as Mom threw a bubble of magic around the thick stuff and compressed then disposed of it.
“Syd!” Mom’s eyes were a little wild as she turned to me. “What happened?”
“My demon happened,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Was it necessary to destroy the candle?” My mother’s voice sounded testy again and I doubted this time I would get much sympathy. Her patience was as thin as mine and I wondered for the millionth time if she was really the right person to be training me.
“She obviously thought it was appropriate,” I snapped back.
“Watch your tone, young lady,” Mom said.
“I hardly did it on purpose,” I said. “This is stupid!” I climbed to my feet and faced her. “My demon is frustrated and doesn’t want to spend her time lighting stupid candles and raising baby force fields. And, to be honest, neither do I.”
“Well, that’s just tough,” she snapped back. “You have yet to master even the simplest tasks, Sydlynn. If you want the coven to trust and accept you—“
“Maybe I don’t!” I threw it at her like a weapon. “You’re the only one in this room that really gives a crap what the coven thinks!”
