Power Surge (The Crawford Witch Chronicles Book 2)

by S. L. Perrine

  "Not lately. It's like you've learned to ignore me altogether. You're never around anymore and you're always ditching us to hang out with Chadwick." She stretched the word, enunciating each syllable as she called him by his given name. "You don't have time for us anymore."

  Us? Was she referring to Helen and Michael too? I didn’t want them to think I didn’t have time for them. I didn’t want her to think that either.

  I had to admit it. I had been spending an awful lot of time with Chad at his house and traveling to my parents’ house in Dublin, then with Crystal and Clara at the Blackwood's. It wasn't done maliciously. I was trying to keep my family safe. Not only had I become prone to exploding things, but my psycho aunt could come after me again. I would hate myself if any of them were caught in the crossfire.

  "I'm sorry," was all I could think of to say. "Yeah...well yes. I mean, I have been spending a lot of time with Chad, but it's just because of the newness of our relationship." I could tell she wasn't buying what I was offering her, but I didn't know what else to say.

  "You two have always spent tons of time together. The only difference in your relationship is the kissing." She looked up at me again and I could feel myself begin to blush.

  "Besides, mom says it's because you found your biological family and that you've been visiting them a lot." She stopped and chewed at her bottom lip.

  "Oh, that. Well..."

  "Are you leaving?" she asked abruptly. "I mean, I know I’ve always been horrible to you. Even Clara has yelled at me for some of the things I’ve said, but if I knew it bothered you...I mean, it never seemed like..."

  I pulled my hands from my pockets and slowly sunk down into the grass beside her, folding my hands together in my lap. "Michelle, stop," I said, looking at my hands and the ring Alastair had given me. "I'm not leaving... not now, anyway. We still have school to finish and maybe I’ll go away for college, but I'm not trading families."

  The hard lines of her face relaxed. "No?"

  "Of course not. Yes, I will tell you some of the stuff you've said over the years bothered me, but you're still my sister." I clenched my hands tighter together as she lunged, wrapping her arms around me and pinning my arms to my sides. "Now, wait a minute. Nobody said you could invade my personal space," I blurted.

  She laughed but pulled her arms back into her own lap.

  "I'm sorry if you thought that finding my birth family would make me look at you or our parents any differently. That wasn't my intention. I've just been going through some things. Learning things only they have answers for."

  "Oh, like what?" Her interest was piqued. She turned slightly to face me without uncrossing her legs.

  Not knowing what was safe to tell her without her wanting further explanation, I offered what would make sense of my frequent absences at home.

  "My birth mother's family told me my parents did not die in a car accident, but really, they were victims of arson. Whoever it was that died in that crash were the people who committed the arson and kidnapped me to keep me for their own." Okay, so there was never a crash, but I was having a hard time figuring out how to explain that without telling the truth of the story.

  It wasn’t a simple story to begin with. My parents fled to be together. My mother’s family believed my father had killed my grandmother, Isabella Crawford. My father’s family were dark and scary people, who didn’t like the idea of them together. It was my assumption, since I hadn’t spoken to them, that they considered my father a traitor for leaving them. I didn’t know if that alone would warrant them wanting both my parents killed.

  The story my adopted family got was the car accident. Only I, alone, survived. Car seat or something was the miracle worker there, I supposed. The story my grandfather got was that they were barricaded in their house and it was set on fire. I didn’t like to think about that one at all.

  When the house was set aflame, and the ones who did it had left, they didn’t know about a trap door in the house. The whole reason my father wanted that house, according to Chester, was because the trap door led to a tunnel beneath the house and opened up at the surface a few miles away. They had another house as a backup, hoping they would never have to use it. They did. It was the small house/store in Dublin, which is where my aunt caught up with them.

  "Wow! Yeah, that's something to process. Arson?" Michelle disturbed my thoughts.

  "Yeah, well the kicker is they had me for over a year before they died in the crash. And because my parents were on the outs with their families, none of them knew I existed." More lies. I had to get away from the conversation.

  "Woah, that's insane."

  It was the story my grandfather had believed for eighteen years until my powers had come to me and they felt a new presence of Crawford magic. They had thought it to be my mother. They hoped my parents had faked their deaths and hid to escape my father's family and the dark magic. They wanted nothing more than for my mother to come back to them.

  I couldn't tell Michelle any of that. Even if I had, she'd probably just laugh at me, or worse, think I was mocking her, since she had opened up about how she felt on the subject of my birth family. Sharing any feelings with me was completely out of character for her. She was never really the sharing type, and I had always been led to believe her only care in the world was her popularity status.

  "I'm so sorry. I had no idea you were dealing with so much." She turned more to face me.

  "Yeah, well, I didn't think you’d care to hear about it, so I kept it to myself." The look on her face made me regret saying it, but she knew it to be true. I could feel it in her.

  The wind started to pick up. The sun began to sink into the horizon. I took a deep breath, satisfied it was not because of me, but the shift in temperature. I stood up and stuffed my hands back into the pockets of my jeans.

  "What's with all the sudden caring, anyway? What's really going on with you?" I asked after picking up on her change of mood. I could feel her emotions as they rose and fell within her, and then they felt like a tidal wave hit. I stumbled backwards with the force, and if she noticed my unsteadiness, she didn't show it. She stood with me and I could see the forceful rise and fall of her chest as she braced herself with a deep inhale of the cooling air. The title wave of emotions lifted, and I felt less on edge.

  "I guess since Tom broke up with me, I’ve just taken a long look at how I’ve been treating people." She rubbed stray blades of grass from her pants. “Not the guys at school, but my friends, you, our parents even.”

  “It’s okay. I’ve learned to expect it.” I nudged her with a playful elbow.

  “Yeah, well, you shouldn’t have had to. All these years, you’ve put up with me constantly telling you that you didn’t belong here. That you’re not a part of this family.” She stared down to avoid looking at me.

  “Yeah, those were the ones that hurt the most, but I got over it. Couldn’t have been easy to think you weren’t enough for them. If it makes you feel any better, mom has always told me that after you were born, they found out they couldn’t have any more kids. They adopted me for you…not for themselves. They didn’t want you to be alone.”

  “Wow.” She looked and felt honestly surprised by that bit of information.

  “Yeah, so no need to beat yourself up over me anyway. I’m fine. I figured we’d get closer when we were older and had our own kids, ya know?”

  “Well, you’re not the only reason. Clara helped me see the error in my ways.” She blinked, and for a moment, I thought I saw the beginnings of a tear. Then it was gone.

  “Clara did? How?”

  “Well, after a week or two of crying about how badly it hurt that Tommy had used me for popularity, and after he got what he wanted, he just dropped me, she let me have it. I really thought he cared about me.” And her eyes grew moist again. That time, they stayed until she swiped at them with the backs of her hands.

  I fought the urge to hug her. I was still too unsure. “What do you mean, ‘got what he wanted?�
� Did you two…?”

  She jolted upright. “Oh, goodness no. I wouldn’t do that. I was planning to, for prom. I thought he was the one. Then he broke things off, and I was heartbroken.”

  “Oh Michy.” I didn’t know what to say for the second time in one conversation with her, and I realized how little I actually knew about my sister.

  “Oh, it’s okay. I’m over him now. Clara put up with my whiny ass all through Thanksgiving, and then just stopped coming around about a week later. I asked her why. She said because she was tired of hearing me whine about what Tommy did to me…ya know, on account that I do that to everyone. She said she couldn’t deal with it anymore, and the only way she would hang out with me again is if I stopped treating people like crap, now that I knew how it felt.” She pushed her phone into her pocket and started walking in small circles. I had to pick a spot in the yard to look at or I thought I’d get dizzy watching her.

  Then I saw the little green beetle pull into the end of the driveway, and I felt a light-hearted feeling wash over my sister. “But you know, we can keep all this to ourselves…this whole sister-bonding thing.”

  “Is that your idea of bonding? Seriously, Michy. I wouldn’t call it that.” She caught my tone and nudged me playfully with her elbow.

  "I’m still glad you're not trading families. Although, I did have myself psyched up about having the bigger bedroom, finally." We both laughed and managed to tone it down as the beetle came to a stop in front of the garage doors.

  Clara stepped from the car and her emotions were all business. She was her usual well-put-together self. She was wearing something that looked like a schoolgirl uniform; gray pleated skirt and white button up blouse, with a gray cardigan. Her white knee-high socks were so bright, I thought I’d go blind.

  "Hey, still need a hand setting up?" she asked Michelle excitedly.

  "Of course. I mean, it's not like Elyse could manage to stay home long enough to help," she said, cracking a grin.

  "Yeah, well that's what happens when you have a boy toy like Chad." Clara whipped her long dark hair around in her ponytail as she moved. Her former sarcasm hit me and I started to feel better for my sister.

  "Nice, Clara. Didn't realize you would know anything about having a boy toy." I sneered back at her.

  "Haha, very funny, E..." She drew out the sound, mocking Chad's short nickname for me. Then she hooked arms with Michelle, pulling her in the direction of the back yard. She tossed a glance over at me and winked.

  “Actually,” I called to her, “I could use your help with something before you two disappear.” I tried to give my best fake out for Michelle's benefit. Talking to my sister had made me realize how much my relationships with my family and friends had suffered while I tried to get a handle on my new powers. While Michelle sat and poured out her feelings, I became more determined than ever to fix it, ASAP!

  "What do you need a hand with? Huh?" Michelle teased. "I know. Super-secret birthday stuff. Clara, I’ll meet you inside, where I won't be listening at the window." She laughed, and for the first time since I had arrived home, I didn't need to have the powers of an empath to know she was finally excited about her party.

  Taking her exclamation of not being at the window and snooping on us for what it was, we headed farther down the driveway before discussing what was on my mind.

  "It's nice to see you two getting along. That was what I was seeing, isn't it?" she prodded.

  "Yeah, she just opened up about a few things that made me realize this power surge is out of control and taking over my life." I cringed and stuffed my hands back into my pockets.

  "So, you ready to try my idea?" She played with her long ponytail.

  "I don't think I have a choice." I pointed to the ring on my right middle finger. "Alastair gave me this today. He said it was a family heirloom, passed down from one High Priestess to the next. I think I should use it."

  "Good thinking. No one will be likely to question your sudden addition of jewelry if it's a gift from a long lost relative. The fact that it's an heirloom and pretty," she said, looking into the stone, "well, that's just icing on the cake. I think we can use it."

  "Good. Do you think we could do it before the party?" I wanted my powers under control before I blew up the cake, never mind the icing.

  "Definitely. Meet me at my house at ten," she said and turned towards the house, knowing any longer and Michelle would be suspicious.

  "By the way, nice car!” I yelled after her. In reply, she held her hand to the sky and twisted her finger. The little green car was suddenly cobalt blue before settling back to its original color.

  Before the blood rite ritual, Chad, Clara, and I had met at the site we would have used to call on the powers of the High Priestess. If it weren’t for the cars getting blown up, we probably would have still held it there. Her car was one of the vehicles blown to pieces, which raced after us as we tried to speed away in Cooper. Chester, Chad’s dad, was a bit more upset about losing his pick-up than Clara’s parents had been about her car, a lime green beetle.

  “What’s with the blue?”

  “They didn’t have one in green, obviously. It’s my favorite color,” she finished before slipping in the front door.

  Chapter Four

  Chad was true to his word. I heard Helen exclaiming in a high-pitched voice that dinner was going on the table, followed by the familiar clip-clop on the stairs. He must have thrown his boots on in a hurry. I could tell as he got closer to my door that the heels were scuffing across the rug, evidence of his untied laces. When I could finally see him, I noted his hair was recently washed but not brushed. The tips of his hair had dried on his way over and his shirt wasn't buttoned all the way.

  “Hey, I made it,” he said, stopping in the doorway.

  “I see that.” I slipped the ring off my finger, placing it on the velvet surface inside my jewelry box, then sat on the floor at the foot of my bed.

  He headed across the room, kicking his boots off as he walked, then plopped down on the bed. They landed next to each other on the side of the table, which had more books on it than it had earlier that morning.

  “Everything okay?” He sprawled out on his stomach across the bed and sounded like he'd fallen asleep. I smacked his foot, which was hanging over the side and in my face. I was sorting through more books when he came in, and the one I'd had in my hand was knocked free. It landed sprawled out on the floor.

  He rolled onto his back and sat up. “Chester had me cut wood. Then he had me clean up the house. We're gonna have company this weekend.” He ran his fingers through his hair and then looked at me. “Figured I wouldn't get a foot in the door if I didn't shower at least.”

  “Good idea,” I said as I ruffed up his hair. He knelt down on the floor and took stock of all the books in my room.

  “Are these all from the store? Looks like their entire inventory.” He shuffled around a few of the leather-bound books.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and tried not to get upset. I didn't like talking about my parents, not when I couldn't even free them. They had high hopes that after I got the powers from both of them, I'd have enough to bring them back to us. I felt like a failure.

  “Don’t.” He grabbed my hand.

  “Don't what?” I pretended I didn't know what he was taking about.

  “You're putting too much pressure on yourself to bring them back. I'm sure they understand.” He pushed his powers into me, calming me instantly.

  “Really? How can you say that? I don't even know my parents enough to know if they understand. I don't think I could be patient. It's been five months, Chad.”

  “We can figure this out, E. You just have to relax.”

  Helen started yelling again. She hadn't been in a good mood since she woke from her nap, and to be honest, I felt responsible for that as well. I didn't think I had done anything, but I couldn't rule it out either. I'd never seen my mother so upset. It was starting to get weird.

  We sat around the tabl
e to eat. Nobody said anything, but Chad held my hand under the table, just as he had every night he ate with us. When he wasn't eating with me and my family, I was with him and Chester. It was the best idea we could come up with. His gift only worked through touch. There probably was a spell that could be used, but Chester said it was safer this way. We didn’t know what kind of effect, if any, spells would have on me.

  Family dinners had gotten tense since Christmas. Our entire family had come over for the annual family dinner. My parents hosted because we had the larger house. My aunt and her new husband lived in a small condo downstate. My grandparents lived in a one-bedroom house in New York, and Helen hated to travel. When Michelle and I got into our fifth argument of the evening, Helen knocked her glass on the floor. I couldn't tell how it happened, but I could tell it was more my doing than hers. I hid in my room for the entire holiday break since Chad and his father spent the two weeks in Arizona visiting Chester’s late wife’s family. No doubt they were getting help from her family, looking for the spell that would work in freeing my parents.

  At that point, we had expectations for when things would be different. We figured we’d be celebrating Gwen and Silas’s return just after the holidays. The plan was set for New Year’s Eve, but my inability to control my powers had made me too scared to try anything. I was more afraid I'd kill them instead of releasing them.

  After dinner, we helped Michael put more tables out back for the party. Michelle helped clean up the kitchen. I found Helen alone out front and decided I should talk to her. I figured her mood may have had something to do with Michelle's earlier concerns about my biological family. Maybe she thought I was trading them in for a blood-related bunch. I needed her to know that wasn’t the case.

  I found her putting up the birthday party banner for Michelle's usual Mardi Gras bash. They were brightly-colored and displayed eye masks on the ends of the words, ‘Happy Birthday.’