She remembered the way Mom had stumbled around the house with vague eyes. “I didn’t think you would ever come back from that.”
“I was never in any pain. My biggest regret is that I couldn’t take care of you when you needed me.”
Callie closed her eyes and let the words spread like aloe on burned skin. She wasn’t sent away because she wasn’t good enough or unloved. A deep sorrow lifted out of her body, and she felt freer and lighter.
But even as the sorrow faded, Callie felt a rising, burning anger replace it. Lucas had to be stopped.
Callie and James set their cafeteria trays at the usual table with the usual crowd. Skye was already seated and eating whole grain Cheerios from a box and drinking Diet Coke.
“That’s a hell of a lunch you always pack,” James said.
“A carb fest downed with life’s magic elixir.” She held up the soda can in mock salute then pointed it at their trays with its unappealing mound of spaghetti. “Now that’s what I call a hell of a lunch.”
Callie poked the gross mess with a fork. “Totally unappetizing, but I’m starving.”
James and Skye smiled at each other.
“I know, I’m always starving, but it’s the truth.”
Michael and Tanner arrived with bags from Fat Girls Barbeque.
“I’m jealous,” Callie said as they unwrapped the pulled pork sandwiches. “How did you manage to slip off campus?”
“Ms. Bromwieser never takes roll call and could care less if you skip,” said Michael. “We aren’t in high school anymore.”
“What’s this? Some special class for football jocks? I need a transfer,” she joked.
“Let’s split,” James said, banging down his fork. “I can’t eat this disgusting orange goo.”
“Just leave?” Her mouth opened in surprise.
“Oh, go on, Miss Goody-Goody,” Skye said. “We know it’s not the first time you two have skipped out.”
“If we leave now, we can grab some real food and get back in time for your next class,” James said.
She threw her fork on the tray and stood. “I’ll need at least two of those barbeque sandwiches,” she warned James.
“I figured as much.”
“The least I can do in exchange is turn your tray in for you.” She gathered both trays and walked to the other side of the cafeteria.
Emily Singer sat with some other girls Callie recognized. She smiled and waved. Everyone but Emily stared at her stonily.
“How can you stand to hang around that Goth girl?” one of them asked in disgust.
“Are you talking about Skye?”
“Just look at her,” said another girl, lips curled in disgust.
Callie glanced back at her friend. She was so used to Skye’s heavy makeup and piercings, she forgot how Skye appeared to others.
“She’s really not that bad,” Emily spoke up.
Callie shot her a grateful look. Tanner could do a lot worse than Emily.
“She’s gross. Always has been. And she’s weird. I’ve heard some strange things about her and her family. Michael’s the only normal one in the bunch.”
“Me too. I heard—”
“Why don’t you shut up!” Callie snapped. She remembered these girls now from elementary school, the same nasty girl clique.
“No, you shut up.”
It took Callie a moment to place who said that. Oh, Gina, ringleader of the mean girls. She’d been a bitch since sixth grade.
“You and Skye were always a couple of weirdos,” Gina continued, her perfect features twisted into a sneer. “Always secretive and whispering nonsense. You’re both total losers.” Gina looked away and spoke to the girl beside her. Callie was dismissed as too unimportant for further discussion.
She seethed, and without stopping to think, directed her anger at the uneaten mound of spaghetti in front of Gina.
Blop. The whole gelatinous mess splattered onto Gina’s white shirt, leaving a very satisfying tomato-red stain. Gina jumped up and glared accusingly.
“How did you do that?” Gina screamed.
“Do what?” Callie asked. “I’m standing way over here.”
“Freak! You and Skye are nothing but a couple of freaks.” Gina screeched and trembled with rage.
The lunchroom turned deathly quiet and she felt everyone’s eyes on her.
“Is there a problem?” James asked, already behind her.
She jumped in surprise. “Not at all. I’m not wasting any more time on such narrow-minded idiots.” She stomped off, James by her side. The noise level in the lunchroom returned to a buzz. Probably talking about her for all she cared. It took all her self-control to take her time emptying the trays and leave the cafeteria, head held high.
“Want to tell me what that was all about?” James asked as he pulled the car out of the parking lot.
“Just some stupid snobs making fun of Skye.”
“There’s always bullies. Some things never change.”
His words set off a bell in her head. What was he implying about things never changing? Callie tried to focus on his words, but she was still too upset to look for hidden meanings. She stared out the car window fuming and thought of a dozen ways to hex the snobby girls. Maybe menopausal chin hair on the blonde and a permanent case of laryngitis for Gina.
“Michael and Tanner being football stars helps keep some of the nastier behavior at bay,” James said.
“There’s no excuse for it. At least Emily tried to defend Skye. Of course, she’s probably doing that because she’s got a thing for Tanner.”
“Really?”
“How can you sit behind them in history class and not know?” Honestly, guys could be so dense.
James shrugged and searched through his music and selected a classical number.
“And it sucks big-time. Skye’s the one in love with Tanner, and I get the feeling Michael has a crush on Emily.”
“Playing matchmaker can backfire on you,” James warned. “Don’t try waving your magic wand to make it all right.”
She narrowed her eyes and stared at his profile. Was it her imagination, or did he intentionally suggest magic at every opportunity?
“Maybe I will. And while I’m waving that magic wand, I’ll also command it to send me winning lottery tickets and Angelina Jolie lips.”
“Your lips are fine as they are.” He leaned over and lightly touched her lips with his fingers.
Nice. She closed her eyes and relaxed. Very nice.
“Give it a rest, Callie. I told you I don’t care about those girls.” Skye sat cross-legged on the bed, sketching in her notebook.
“It has to hurt. Even a little?”
“Nope. If it really bothered me, would I keep my piercings or the purple streaks in my hair?”
“Maybe.” She studied her friend for cracks in her composure.
Skye looked up from the notebook. “I know you had something to do with Gina’s spaghetti-stained shirt. Aren’t you worried about bad karma from the Law of Three?”
She shrugged. “Threefold trouble because I used magic for bad? Nope. Gina got what was coming to her, so I consider it nothing more than speeding up justice. But we were talking about you, not me.”
“I’m used to those girls.” Skye set the notebook aside. “People, even thick-headed ones, can sense I’m different after a while.”
“How?”
“Our family never goes to any of the local churches, I’ve never been part of the Baptist Youth Fellowship, and I’ve always had strange obsessions like collecting crystals, wearing lots of charm jewelry, being superstitious, not celebrating their traditional holidays—”
“I get your point.”
“And to top it off, my parents had to give me a witchy name like Skye. Michael got off easy in that department. Didn’t people in New Jersey think you were strange?”
“They think Southerners are strange anyway,” she said with a laugh. “Most people probably just thought my aunt was flaky and I
was a snob. I didn’t have lots of friends. The not going to church on Sundays thing was no big deal. It’s not like a small Alabama town where your religious denomination is considered a defining personality trait.”
Skye studied her. “Sounds like we could have used each other all these years. At least I’ve always had Michael, and then Tanner came along too.” She gazed off into space with a small, unconscious, all-telling smile.
“About Tanner—”
Skye immediately picked up her notebook and became engrossed in it. “What about him?” Her tone was challenging.
“It’s obvious you have a thing for him. Don’t you want to talk about it?”
“No.” Skye looked up with forlorn eyes. “It’s hopeless. He only sees me as Michael’s kid sister and a friend.”
“Then you have to change his mind.”
“Are you suggesting a love spell? Believe me, I’ve been tempted over the years. It’s murder watching him date half the girls in the county and never even look at me.”
“Tanner can be an absolute pain in the ass,” Callie agreed.
Skye laughed. “I have no idea what I see in him. Half the time I’m with him, he ticks me off. And the other half . . .” Her face reddened, and she looked down.
“Oh, I know about the other half. James is—” Callie’s voice trailed off.
“You’re so lucky. He’s a hunk and he’s crazy about you.”
“Really? Sometimes I think so, and other times I can’t read him so well. He’s so private.”
“He’s never hung out with anyone here in Piedmont before. Always kind of kept to himself.”
“I think he has his secrets.”
Skye’s eyes shone with excitement. “Do you think he’s a witch like us?”
“No . . . but he definitely has a mystery.”
“Does he know you’re a witch?”
“No. At least I don’t think so. I haven’t told him, but sometimes I get the strangest feeling he suspects.”
“You should tell him.”
“Eventually. When the time is right.” She tapped Skye’s notebook. “What you got there?”
“Sketches of some charms I’d like to make.”
“Can I see?”
Skye handed her the notebook.
She flipped through dozens of pages of intricately drawn jewelry designs. Each piece used semi-precious gems and rocks with a description of the charm’s magical properties. There was an orange calcite bracelet for creativity, turquoise earrings for luck, headbands with amethyst and moonstones for fortune and protection, and tiger’s eye anklets for truth and healing. Almost every jewelry piece had a rose quartz somewhere for love and harmony.
“These are amazing,” she said. “Have you made any of them yet?”
“A few. But even at wholesale prices, it’s a bit steep for me to make all my designs. You really like them?”
“Skye, these are gorgeous. You have to make them one day.”
“My plan is to have my own website business. And if that takes off, it would be fun to have a metaphysical shop where people could come in and browse.”
“When you’re rich and famous, I can say this was one of your first creations,” Callie said, holding up her amber necklace.
“I wish I could talk my parents into giving me the money,” Skye said. “I’d much rather have a start-up business than spend money going to college. I already know what I want to do.”
“You’re lucky. I have no clue what I’m going to do.”
“Why don’t you come to Alabama with all of us next year? We could be roomies, get our own place.” Skye’s eyes grew animated.
“I’ll let you know soon,” Callie promised. “My father’s offered to foot the bill.”
“At least he’s come through with something.”
“I know. Hard to believe isn’t it?” She started to tell Skye that Lucas offered her a job but thought better of it. She picked up one of Skye’s jewelry designs. “You have a talent that’ll take you places. Me, I’m floundering.”
The future was only a vague concept. So much depended on what happened at her initiation.
Callie finished filling the doodlebug with gas and scurried inside the Dixie one-stop to pay. Damn, it was cold outside. Maybe she’d get a cup of hot chocolate. She made her way over to the beverage station, grabbed a Styrofoam cup, and pushed it under the dispenser. The warm liquid thawed her chilled fingers. Now for a little whipped cream, a dash of cinnamon . . .
“Fancy meeting you here.”
No, it couldn’t be. Callie whipped around. “How did you—? I mean, when did you—?” The cup slipped from her hands, sending the scalding liquid down the front of her jeans. “Crap.” She grabbed a handful of napkins and jerkily swiped the sticky mess.
Lucas extended a handkerchief. “My apologies. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“The hell you didn’t.” Callie ignored his outstretched hand, and he stuffed it back in his jacket. “I should have sensed you. Guess you know how to shield your presence.”
He glanced at the nearby customers. “We can speak privately in my car.”
She spotted the silver Jaguar in the parking lot. “How long have you been following me?”
He ignored the question. “Allow me to buy your gas.”
Callie gaped as he made his way to the cashier. She opened her mouth to protest then clamped it shut. Let him pay. It was the least he could do after all this time.
She stomped out the door, debating whether to drive off or hear him out.
Lucas grabbed her elbow. “What harm can it do to talk? Fifteen minutes is all I ask.”
She glared. “What if you decide to whisk me off to Atlanta against my will?”
He countered with a question of his own. “Why would I do that before you come into your powers at the initiation?”
Good point. She heaved a loud sigh. “Oh, all right. Fifteen minutes.”
The car’s interior smelled of rich leather. Lucas climbed in beside her and started the engine.
“No way.” Callie grabbed the door handle. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Lucas withdrew his keys from the ignition. “Fair enough.” He put an arm on the steering wheel and faced her as best he could. “We got off to a bad start.” She opened her mouth to speak, and he threw up a hand. “My fault. I came on too strong with the job offer and money. Once I thought it over, I realized how it came off. Like I was trying to bribe you into having things my way.”
“That wasn’t the problem. The problem is that you want to use me. All you care about is power.”
“I won’t deny power’s important to me. But you’re my daughter, my only child.” His voice cracked, as if swallowing tears. “I want to be a part of your life, whether you join my coven or not.” His face was perfectly schooled in sincerity: chin tucked in, head lowered, watery eyes.
Crocodile tears.
“You don’t fool me.”
“Please, Callie.” He raised a hand as if to touch her then dropped it back down. “Give me a chance.”
A chance. She wanted to believe him, wanted a father. She’d been so lonely growing up, feeling like she didn’t have a mother or a father. Callie hugged her elbows by her stomach. People could change. Maybe he was really trying.
“At least come for a visit,” he said softly.
“Couldn’t you just visit me here in Piedmont for starters?” She inwardly cringed at the slight tremble in her voice, not wanting to betray any sign of weakness.
“I would, but Ginnie and your grandmother wouldn’t allow it.”
“I could talk to them, make them—”
“No,” he cut in abruptly.
She took in the slight narrowing of his eyes, the fingers drumming the steering wheel. He was pissed.
“If you want a relationship with me, you would at least try.”
“I am trying.” He pasted on a smile. “So, what do you say? If you came next weekend I could take you to a play at Fox th
eatre, a Hawks basketball game, shopping, whatever you like.”
She raised an eyebrow. “More bribery?”
“Merely a taste of the kind of life you were meant to have.”
He hadn’t changed. “The kind of life I could have if I helped you and your coven.”
Lucas shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant.” Her voice rose. “It always comes back to your ambition.” She opened the car door.
“Wait.” Lucas grabbed her elbow. His grip squeezed painfully into her tender flesh. “Don’t be an idiot, Callie,” he hissed. “You can’t even imagine what we could accomplish together.”
She clenched her teeth. “Let go of my arm, or I’ll scream bloody murder.”
Lucas looked at the stream of customers going in and out of the store. He loosened his hold. “If you change—”
“Yeah, I’ve got your number.” She jerked her arm free and tumbled out of the Jaguar. “Don’t come see me anymore,” she said, slamming the door shut.
Lucas rolled down the Jag’s window. “Make no mistake, Callie. We will see each other again. If it’s not until your birthday . . . remember it was your choice.”
She swiftly made her way to the doodlebug, determined not to let Lucas see her cry.
He didn’t deserve her tears.
6
Haunted Hallows
“Caledonia Bradford, report to the Dean’s office. Reminder to all graduating this semester that cap and gown fees are due this week.”
The P.A. announcement nearly made her drop her books. She’d only been called to an office once, way back in second grade. She paused at her locker and looked at Skye. The warning bell for class change had already rung, and only a few students lingered in the halls.
“I haven’t heard anyone call you Caledonia since first grade.” She laughed as Callie rolled her eyes. “At least you don’t have a witchy, hippy name like me.”
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