by Tara West
“That’s horrible,” Krysta murmured, opening her arms to Cemi.
“It was a tragic accident. Your mother… She was never serious about her magic or her powers. And because of that, she didn’t get serious about her familiar quick enough. One day, she left the door open, and her familiar got out. The cat was hit by a car.”
I squeezed Sif. “Oh, no.”
“I believe it was the loss of her familiar that cemented your mother’s decision to not advance her magic.” Aunt Bertrice scratched Wicce’s ears as if proving to herself he was still there. “It is her loss. She could have been a great and powerful witch.”
I nodded to the furball in my lap. “Is the bond we have instantaneous?”
Aunt B shook her head. “Oh, no. Definitely not. You’re meant, of course, to love her and wish to forge that bond with her. But ultimately, it’s up to you to make it happen. You must learn to love yourself before you can fully bond with your familiar.”
“Wicce talks to you, doesn’t he?” Krysta asked quietly. Cemi was under her chin, her nose pressed to her neck.
Aunt Bertrice grinned. “He does. And they will eventually speak to you, as well. They will come to understand you in ways no person has ever been able to, and you will be completely whole. But that is all dependent on you two finding happiness. You must learn to accept the changes in your powers, and within yourselves.”
I thought of the playing card from ritual last night. It was upstairs under my pillow with a crudely drawn face on it, the place between her eyes circled. I wanted my power to return to its regular scheduled programming. But if mourning my loss of premonition would keep me from bonding with Sif, would it be worth it?
No. I tugged Sif up, squeezing her to my chest. She dug her claws into my T-shirt and purred contentedly.
Sif was meant to be my partner. Maybe that was more important than the powers I had.
***
Sophie
“Alessia? Mom, have you seen her?” My heart sank further at every passing second I called my cat and she didn’t answer.
“No.” Mom shook her head as she stirred a pot of stew. “But her food dish is empty, so she must be around.”
“Did you let Buster inside?” I asked, unable to keep the whine out of my voice.
“He spent all day outside.” Mom dropped the wooden spoon into the pot and leveled me with one of her knowing, parental glares. “Is this cat why you sulked in the car?”
I couldn’t help averting my gaze as I felt annoyance inflame my skull. Alessia was giving me enough stress. I didn’t need more from my mom, too. “I told you I didn’t feel well.”
“What is going on, Sophie?”
Mom came up to me and cupped my chin in her hand, giving me no choice but to meet her gaze. When I saw the look of concern and hurt reflected in her amber eyes, I was overcome by a pang of guilt. How was my mom able to humble me with just one look?
“Do you miss your friends?” she asked. “Boy problems?”
“No!” I pulled away from her. And then the strangest thing happened. A vision of Ethan and his messy hair flashed through my mind. Why would I think of him? I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts of Ethan as my gaze shot back to my mom. “I mean, yes, I miss them. They were my best friends.” I couldn’t hold back the crack of emotion that slipped into my voice. I’d been trying so hard to forget them—the friends who’d up and left me all alone at a new high school.
Mom heaved a sigh while coursing fingers through her hair. Odd how I hadn’t noticed before, but her thick, chestnut waves were now flecked with several strands of gray. “AJ’s mother called. She was worried about you. She says you haven’t spoken to AJ since she left.”
My shoulders fell as I looked at my toes. “I’m not ready to talk to her.”
“This isn’t AJ’s fault,” Mom said, “She needs to recover from her accident.”
Unable to say anything, I simply nodded. “I know.”
I smiled when Mom caressed my cheek with the back of her hand. Such a simple gesture, but so soothing. When I was little, Mom used to scratch my face and my back every night before bed. Sometimes I wished for those days again, when I was my mom’s baby. Back before I found out I was a psychic witch and my whole world seemed to implode on itself.
“You can’t even send your friends a text?”
My gaze shot to her. This coming from the woman who had finally learned how to send a text message this summer.
“Fine.” I heaved a resonant sigh. No use putting off the inevitable. Even though I was still mad at them for leaving, I had to talk to someone, and Krysta and AJ were the only friends who’d understand. “I’ll go text them. If you see Alessia, would you bring her to me?”
“If she’ll let me catch her,” Mom called back as I ascended the stairs. “You’re not the only one she’s avoiding.”
I shook my head as I thought of my cat. How could AJ’s aunt think Alessia was meant for me when it seemed Alessia was meant for no one?
***
Krysta
Benjamin waited for me on my bed again.
“Hey.” I dropped Cemi to the mussed blankets and reached up to pull the clip from my hair. Aunt B had wanted to start on banishment lessons, but she’d gotten a phone call from an old friend and had to run out for an hour. “What’s going on?”
He shook his head sadly. “Nothing, Krysta. It is never anything new in this cold world.”
I sat beside him, putting my hand near his on the blanket. I could feel his coldness with our bodies—well, my body and his essence—that close. “I’d like to help you. What do you need?”
He shrugged. “I do not know.”
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
He thought hard for a long moment before replying. “I was escorted to the stage in chains. A man spoke, decreeing my sentence.”
“Hanging because of witchcraft.”
“Indeed. They put the rope over my head….”
Benjamin shifted, and his hand passed through mine.
And then I was there.
The crowd spread as far as the eye could see. Benjamin’s feet were bare and dirty on the planks beneath him. The rope was coarse, already digging into his skin as he awaited death.
In the crowd, a familiar visage: long pale hair loose around her face, her skin brown from the sun in her garden, and her bonnet pulled low to hide behind. But he recognized her—
The woman for whom he was sacrificing his life.
As quickly as it had started, it was over. I came back to myself and gasped, backpedaling away from him. “What did you to do to me?”
His heavy blond brows furrowed. “I do apologize, but what do you mean?”
I pressed my back against the headboard. Cemi padded up and hopped on my chest, curling against me and starting to purr. The sensation calmed me. “I was just…in your head.”
“I am quite alone in here,” he said. For the first time, a grin stole across his face. It lightened him; he was really handsome.
I giggled.
There was a knock on my door, and Benjamin faded. “Krysta? Are you okay?”
I stared at the place where he’d been sitting before I answered AJ. “Yeah.”
She opened the door and poked her head in. “I heard you yell.”
“Ghost.”
My best friend’s face turned white. “Omigod, is he here now?”
I shook my head. “No. You scared him away.”
AJ came to sit next me. “Did he tell you anything new?”
“Maybe. Something happened.”
She rolled her eyes. “Something is always happening around us. We draw it like crazy people.”
“Speak for yourself, crazy person.”
“So?” She gestured for me to get on with it.
“He was talking, and we were really close sitting here. And he was describing the moments before his death. His hand went through mine, and suddenly, I was there. I was him.”
She stare
d at me. “Like me and the dreams.”
“I guess.”
“Do you think it’s because your powers are starting to change, too?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. But I don’t really want to witness a bunch of ghosts’ last moments on earth. How depressing.”
My phone chimed on the nightstand, and I leaned over to see who was texting me.
“Omigod. It’s Sophie!” I squealed, yanking my phone off the table.
“What’d she say?” AJ asked.
“ ‘Hey’.”
“A woman of many words,” AJ said wryly.
I unlocked my phone and shot a text back. What’s up?
Her response was almost instantaneous. Trying to figure out what I am.
I showed the screen to AJ, who frowned. “That doesn’t sound good.”
You’re Sophie, my BFF, I responded.
Are we evil?
“Crap. AJ, look.” I held up my phone.
“What the heck is going on back home?” AJ asked, rubbing her forehead.
I decided to go for short and sweet. No. Why?
I learned at church that witches were satanic.
I rolled my eyes. It was such a common misconception. That’s not true.
Her next message was so long in coming that AJ mumbled something about needing ibuprofen and left the room.
I made Mr. Sleznick let me out of detention.
I giggled. Sleznick is a jerk.
Yeah.
I stared at my phone, worried about my best friend so far away. AJ was starting to come around, but Sophie didn’t sound so good. We’ve missed you.
Sorry.
Argh, again with the one word answers! I wish you were here.
AJ came back into the room carrying a glass of water just as Sophie texted, Did you know they hanged witches in Salem?
I showed the message to AJ before I answered. Most of them weren’t witches, but I know about the trials.
My cat hates me.
“She thinks her cat hates her,” I told AJ.
AJ rolled her blue eyes. “No, she doesn’t.”
I told Sophie that, but she responded, She won’t come to me.
I recalled the conversation Aunt B, AJ, and I had earlier, and tapped out a response: I think you have to accept yourself before she will accept you.
AJ stood up and stretched. “I’m exhausted. I’m going to go grab a nap before Aunt B gets back.”
“Okay, sleep well.”
I followed AJ’s lead and kicked off my sandals and jeans to slide beneath the covers. Five minutes passed. My eyes were getting heavy. I tapped out, Sophie?
She responded immediately, as if she were sitting on the other end in Greenwood, unsure of what to say to me. I’m here.
We’re coming for Thanksgiving.
That’s great. Her response could have been a little more excited.
I’ll be at AJ’s. Will you come see us?
Of course.
I wanted to comfort my best friend, but what good could I do? I was so far away from her. Words were just words, and sometimes they couldn’t stand up when what someone really needed was a friend to hug. Finally, I texted, Don’t believe the lies, Sophie. Believe what’s in your heart.
K. My mom is calling me to eat.
I’m always here for you. Always.
With Sophie’s cryptic texts, my strange out-of-body experience with Benjamin, and ritual with the coven floating around in my monkey brain, I tucked myself beneath the blankets and waited for sleep to come.
Chapter Eleven
AJ
His hands were hard and unyielding on my neck. I hit the ground with his bulk on top of me, and my breath whooshed out, stars bursting in my vision. Through the color spurts, he was nothing more than a shadow on a starlit sky. A vengeful demon.
“Caught you,” he murmured, his voice low, like a lover’s.
I opened my mouth to speak, but I could not, not through his vise-like grip. It was a struggle simply to breathe.
“No, no, my sweet. The time for words has long past,” he whispered. The sound was almost lost to the wind swishing through the cornstalks.
I should have stayed hidden.
Running footsteps caught up—his minions, the short, fat man and the hairy one. They cheered.
“Let’s burn her, sir!” the hairy one crowed.
“No.” My tormentor eased his grip minutely.
Taking advantage, I screamed into the night. “HELP!”
His fist connected with my cheek, and my head was thrown to the side. Pain blossomed sharply, and as I faded into blackness, I heard his voice one last time.
“Bind her. We ride at daybreak.”
When I opened my eyes, I could still feel the sting of the punch.
I put my good hand to my cheek. My skin was hot and tender, as if some guy in a cornfield had really punched me.
I remembered the first dream I’d had in this series—the woman running through the cornfield, fleeing her pursuer. I knew now this nightmare was a continuation of that, and it verified the man pursuing her had been the same man walking above her on the floorboards of her house. I’d recognized his face.
But why? I tried to piece together what I’d seen so far, but other than dressing and talking funny, I couldn’t figure out where or who they were. I had no idea why this man wanted to kill her other than the fact she was a witch.
I was still half-asleep anyway. Maybe after a soda and a snack, I could sit down with a pen and paper and write down what I knew. I needed to track this girl down and help her. Although I feared what I’d seen in these dreams had already come to pass.
Sif appeared, stepping lightly up my abdomen until she sat on my chest and stared at me. She cocked her head, looking for all the world like she wanted to talk to me.
“Do you know something I don’t?” I whispered.
She licked a paw and rubbed it over her ear.
“Of course you don’t.” I sighed and pushed back the covers, sending her sliding with them.
Krysta was already awake, her legs draped over the arm of a cushy chair in the living room and a magazine open on her lap. Cemi’s face was barely visible beneath the cover. Krysta waved. “Did you get a good nap?”
I shrugged. “I dreamed again.”
“Same one?”
“No. A new one.” I sank to the couch, staring out the picture window onto the scene below. Across the quiet street, a neighbor raked leaves, and next door, two children played with chalk on the sidewalk. “But I think it was connected to a previous dream.”
Krysta closed her magazine and eyed me. “What makes you say that?”
“Scenery.” I laid my head back and groaned. “I wish I could understand what they’re trying to tell me.”
“We could try a spell!” Krysta said excitedly, her body jerking. Cemi jumped to her feet from the motion and glared, then turned a circle and lay back down.
“No!” I said, a little too quickly because her face fell. “I don’t want to do a spell.”
“You liked the ritual last night. Admit it.”
“That has nothing to do with this,” I told her irritably, turning away to look at the kids across the street. One, a tiny child with a halo of blonde ringlets, was turning circles with her chalk pressed to the concrete.
“It has everything to do with this,” Krysta argued. “You need answers. We can use our powers to find them.”
“So because we’re suddenly learning magic, then we should use it for everything?”
We were interrupted by Aunt Bertrice’s voice. “No. That’s not the answer at all.”
As one, Krysta and I looked to the doorway. My great-aunt stood there with a condensing glass of iced tea, swirling a lemon in it with her other hand. She smiled. “Not everything can—or should—be fixed by magic. But in this case, AJ, I think you should listen to Krysta.”
Krysta rolled her eyes to me and probably would have stuck out her tongue if Aunt Bertrice weren’t watching. “We
should ask the coven.”
“We barely know them.”
“I feel like we do,” Krysta responded, her voice quiet.
And I knew what she meant, because I felt the same way. There was something about what happened last night that stuck with me. It was as if we’d forged some kind of bond with them. Signed some kind of metaphysical contract.
I couldn’t help but be a little frightened of it.
The sharp trill of the phone in the kitchen broke the silence that followed Krysta’s declaration. Aunt Bertrice winked at us and left to answer it.
“I think it would be the right thing to do,” Krysta told me. “We’re here to learn witchcraft. There’s only so much Aunt B can teach us. Maybe Deb and Tony and the others can teach us more.”
I rubbed the tension between my eyebrows and said, “Yeah. You’re probably right. Let me think about it.”
Aunt B came back in the room with the cordless in her hand. She grinned, her eyes sparkling. “Phone call, AJ.”
“Is it mom?” I asked, accepting the phone.
She shook her head but didn’t say anything more.
Putting the phone to my ear, I asked, “Hello?”
“Hey.”
I froze, my heart skipping a beat. “Tony. Hi.”
“Don’t sound so excited to hear from me,” he said with a laugh.
“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you.” I was glad he couldn’t see the mortifying blush in my cheeks.
“Some other guy?”
Krysta had buried most of her face in a throw pillow, her eyes laughing at me. I threw a couch pillow at her, just in case she needed another one, and mouthed, Jerk!
“Nothing like that,” I told him, turning my back to Krysta.
“What did you think of ritual last night?”
There was an undercurrent to his question I didn’t quite understand. The way his voice deepened, and the gradual up tilt of the question…. It was almost like he needed validation, but that was crazy. “I had a great time. It felt…powerful!”
He chuckled. “Yeah. It was different than usual. You and Krysta definitely brought us a new dimension. Deb is already talking about our next ritual.”
“That’s great,” I said, thinking of what Krysta and I had just talked about, using ritual with them for discovering more about my dreams.
