by Patti Larsen
Guilt. Gulp. “Are you okay?”
He touched his nose with his glove and shrugged. “You hit like a girl.” Winked.
Laughing hurt. But he was right.
A Hayle family trait. No matter how far we fell, we saved up enough strength to take the last hit.
Things progressed much better from there, though I still lost every bout. I could feel myself growing stronger, though as I side-stepped two laughing girls I felt a jab in my obliques from a blow Sage landed earlier. One of these days I'd win.
Couldn't wait.
At least getting my butt thrashed by a deliciously handsome and very sweet guy almost every day helped me to forget my boy troubles somewhat. Sage was a casual relationship, could never go beyond that and I knew it. Without magic, not even latent, all Sage and I could ever really be were friends. And I was okay with that.
Friends I could handle. Boyfriends? Yeah, not so much.
Sashenka Hensley waved from the refreshment table, dark skin glowing in the light of the setting sun. This garden party was her idea. Naturally. As my second, she took her new role very seriously, doing everything she could to bring the family closer together. They adored her completely, down to the last member. While they looked at me like I might suddenly explode all over them, they turned to Shenka as though they could tell her anything.
The stress of the Brotherhood attack on the Dumonts this past spring took a toll on all witches, but our coven was stronger and more confident than ever, mostly thanks to Shenka. I knew word got around to everyone about my part in the mess, overheard family members talking about it from time to time.
It made me uncomfortable, the way they talked about me, as bad as their awed staring. Like I was special. Unreachable. Undefeatable. I just hoped their faith in me wasn't unfounded. Even though I'd been able to muddle through so far, I had no doubt the worst was yet to come.
So weird, really, considering just a few short years ago they all accused me of being the downfall of the Hayle family. Of putting our coven at risk for no reason. And while I totally understood their previous opinions, since I'd been a bit of a brat and fought my destiny, this new hero worship they threw at me every time I came near felt worse.
I struggled with feeling alone for a long time, ever since I was young. I wasn't, not really. Would never be, not with three hitchhiking souls in my head. But the more the coven put me on their little magic pedestal, the more nervous I became.
I never wanted to let them down.
Smile. Shenka's lips widened at me, dark eyes reflecting the sunset. You look like you're going to your own funeral.
Oops. Guess mine slipped. I tried again only to have Shenka laugh in my head.
Okay, she sent, no smiling. Unless someone is torturing you with magic to put that expression on your face.
No, I sent back, a real smile rising, but I'm being tortured, all right.
She laughed in my head even as she laughed out loud to something one of the ladies said to her. We're almost done, she sent. Thanks for being a good sport.
Silly, I sent. This was a great idea. Sigh. I just wish I was as good at it as you are.
You have more important things to worry about. Shenka met my eyes. Let me take care of the family.
Now you know why it's so important to have a second. Gram's mind touched us both. One you can trust. And why I pushed your ass to find one.
Bossy. Yeah, yeah, I sent. I paused to steady Tara, the demon daughter of Talee who hugged me quickly after almost falling as she fled from some of the other girls in a game of tag before tearing off with peals of laughter. You were right. You always are. Happy?
Very. I looked up and into Gram's face. She'd approached without me noticing, standing in my space, nose almost touching mine. Very, girl. Because I know now, no matter what, you have everything you need.
I hugged her while she grunted before hugging me back. “Smartass grandmother,” I whispered.
She kissed my cheek with a wet smack before twisting out of my grip and flouncing off with her fuzzy socked feet dancing over the grass.
Despite her happy air, why did those words feel ominous?
