Awakening s-5 Page 7

  I felt a wave of pity for Cal. With a mother like that, he'd never really had a choice. Or a chance.

  As if he'd read my mind, Hunter said in a quiet voice, "Poor Cal." His eyes met mine, and I was startled by the depth of compassion in them.

  We stared at each other, and then we were both suspended in a strange, timeless moment. I felt like I was falling into Hunter's gaze, and again I remembered the night when he'd almost kissed me. Of the profound connection I'd felt with him, the lightness I'd experienced when he and I had done tath meanma, the intense sharing of minds I thought of as the Wiccan mind meld.

  I wanted to feel Hunter's mouth on mine, his arms around me. I wanted to kiss away that sadness, all that had happened to him before we'd met. To tell him that his father would be proud of him if only he could be here. I could feel him wanting to do the same for me; I could sense him aching to stroke my face until he had wiped away all the tears I'd shed over Cal.

  Then I blinked. What was I thinking? Here I was, talking to my ex-boyfriend's half brother and fantasizing about making out with him. Was I insane?

  "I–I've got to go home," I said.

  A faint flush had risen under Hunter's clear, pale skin. "Right," he said, standing up. He cleared his throat. "Wait just a moment. I've got some books for you."

  He strode into the hallway and began pulling books off the shelves. "Here," he said, his voice back to its usually proper tone. "An advanced compendium of runic alphabets, Hope Whitelaw's critique of Erland Erlandsson's numerological system, and a guide to the properties of stones, minerals, and metals. Start with these, and when you've finished them, we'll talk about them. Then I'll give you more."

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. When I took Hunter's books, I was careful to not allow our hands to touch.

  Outside, the late afternoon sky was a harsh, glaring white. I drove home in a daze, my mind whirling, barely noticing the cold at all.

  9. Almost Normal

  It happened again this afternoon. Just the way it did that other night. We were talking—talking about how to protect her, actually—and then, suddenly, I looked at her and it was as if I'd found an entire universe within her eyes. And I wanted so badly just to touch her, to kiss her mouth. . I can't stop thinking about her. She moves me so strongly, so strangely. I've never felt like this before.

  I'm an idiot. She can barely stand me.

  — Giomanach

  Thursday and Friday, I worked really hard on keeping things normal. I went to school. I talked to my friends. I worked at my mom's office—I'd made a deal with my parents in which they'd front me the money for my car repairs in exchange for me getting all my mom's real estate listings entered into the computer. I cheered when the news came that Aunt Eileen and Paula had closed on their house and that they would start moving in over the weekend. I tried not to think about Cal. Or Hunter. Or the bad news about Practical Magick. Or dark forces that might be out to get me. I made it through the days like other teenage girls.

  On Saturday, Robbie picked me up in his red Beetle. By now everyone in the coven had heard about Practical Magick closing, and Robbie had suggested a trip over there to see if there was anything we could do to help. I didn't think there was. but I was glad to go, anyway.

  “So. . how'd it go last night?" I asked as I buckled my seat belt I knew that Robbie had gone out with Bree. It was a new direction for their age-old friendship.

  Robbie shook his head, gazing through the windshield. "Same as before. We hung out, watched a video. Then we made out, and it was great. Fantastic. But the second I tried to talk about how I felt, she got all squirrelly." He grinned. "But this time I had the sense to shut up and kiss her again before she kicked me out of her house."

  I laughed. "Quick thinking.”

  The fact was. Robbie had been in love with Bree for years. But Bree was gorgeous, while Robbie. . well, he'd been a pizza face. It had made him afraid to approach her. Then, in trying out my newfound power, I'd made a potion to clear up the acne that for years had obliterated his looks. The potion had worked and kept on working in an almost frightening way. The scars had disappeared completely, and then his poor vision had improved, to the point where he no longer wore the thick glasses that he'd had ever since I'd known him. Without the acne or the glasses, he turned out to be amazingly good-looking and was now considered a major hottie at school.

  With his new looks, Robbie had found the courage to go after Bree. But the results so far were uneven. They weren't exactly seeing each other but were definitely more than friends. On Robbie's side, it was love. For Bree. . it was impossible to tell. Even back when we told each other everything, she'd always been hard to figure out when it came to relationships.

  Thinking about Bree, I felt another pang of loss. With all that had happened to me in such a short amount of time, it was painful to not be able to confide in her. But the wounds were still too fresh. Maybe, just maybe, with Cal gone, we could begin to be friends again. I hoped so.

  Robbie and I talked about Practical Magick's problems for the rest of the drive. Robbie's brow creased as he hunted for a parking space in front of the store. "There's something I don't get," he said. "I mean, we've got you, David, Alyce, Hunter, and Sky—that's five blood witches. And I assume you'd all like Practical Magick to stay open. Why can't you just all do a spell together so David hits the lottery or something?"

  "I'm sure that kind of thing isn't allowed under Wiccan law," I said gloomily. "Otherwise David and Alyce would have done it already."

  "That's a drag," Robbie said. He squeezed into a space behind a minivan, and we started for the store.

  I nodded, but I couldn't help thinking—there must be some kind of spell to increase wealth. After all, going by the listings I'd seen in my mom's office, Selene Belltower's property must be worth at least a million dollars. And although Cal had told me that Selene's employers had transferred her to Widow's Vale, I never had found out what she supposedly did for a living. I had a feeling her money didn't come through any of the usual channels.

  Robbie pushed open the door, and I followed him into the store. I was stunned by Alyce's reception.

  "Morgan!" she called. Her eyes were sparkling, her cheeks were pink, and she sounded almost giddy. "Robbie! I'm so glad to see you. I have excellent news!"

  "What happened?" I asked.

  "It's almost unbelievable, Stuart Afton has forgiven Rosaline's debt!" Alyce said.

  "What?" I practically shrieked. "How did that happen?"

  "Do rich people really do that?" Robbie asked.

  "Apparently this one does," Alyce said, laughing. "Afton called David late last night to say he'd made a sudden windfall on the stock market and he'd decided to pass on some of his good fortune. I suppose it's the Yule spirit.”

  David stepped out from the little back room. "Have you heard?”

  "Alyce was just telling us," I answered. "It's too good to be true."

  David gave a faint smile. "It is rather surprising," he said.

  "So the deal with the bookstore chain is off?" Robbie asked.

  “That's right," David said. "And the upstairs tenants can stay, with their same rent."

  "Best of all, Practical Magick stays," Alyce added. "We're throwing a party here tonight to celebrate. I was just going to start making calls to invite all of you, in fact. We want everyone to come—Wiccans, Catholics, Buddhists, atheists, you name it."

  This was such great news. Even the idea of dark forces around couldn't keep me from a celebratory mood. "We'll be here," I promised.

  "Uh, Morgan." Robbie elbowed me. "Hunter scheduled a circle tonight, remember?”

  I'd forgotten, in fact. My stomach did a flip-flop at the thought of seeing Hunter again.

  "I already spoke to Hunter. He's going to reschedule," Alyce said. She was practically giggling. "You don't get a gift like this every day, and we must give it a proper welcome. I've already arranged for The Fianna to play. It was the first thing I did when I heard the news
." The Fianna was a hot Celtic pop band Mary K. and I had tried to get tickets to one of their concerts last spring, and they had been totally sold out.

  I glanced at David, who was methodically counting Tarot decks. Compared to Alyce's high-energy happiness, he seemed subdued. Then I remembered that this positive outcome came from a loss—the death of David's aunt. Perhaps now that the immediate crisis about the building was over, he had more time to actually feel his grief. Well, as Wicca teaches, everything is cyclical. Life leads to death leads to rebirth.

  I wondered what kind of cycle I was in with Hunter. Annoyance leads to dreaming of kissing him to. . irritation again?

  "So what non-Wiccans are going to be at this party?" Mary K. asked as we waited for Das Boot's windshield to defrost I'd come home that afternoon to find her so down about her breakup with Bakker that I'd talked her into coming with me to the Practical Magick party. Mary K. felt pretty much the same way that my parents did about Wicca, so she'd been reluctant—until I mentioned that The Fianna was going to play.

  "The Fianna?" she'd gasped. "For real?"

  After that she couldn't say no.

  I wasn't just being nice by inviting her; I needed her support. I've never been the most comfortable person at a party. And knowing that Hunter would be there made me even more nervous.

  I blew on my fingers to warm them up. "I'm not sure who'll be there." I said. "Probably the people who live above the shop. Plus you'll know Robbie and Bree and the other kids from school. They're Wiccans but they're still people you've known forever."

  I glanced at Mary K. She was wearing a short brown wool skirt and a russet-colored sweater. Citrine earrings sparkled against her auburn hair. As usual she looked perfect—neither too casual nor too dressy, just undeniably pretty.

  "Well, you look great," she said, sounding uncharacteristically nervous.

  On her advice, I had worn a lavender sweater, a long forest green skirt, an amethyst necklace, and brown lace-up boots. Did I really look good? Except when I was making magick, I usually felt depressingly plain. I'm five-foot-six, completely flat chested, with boring, medium-brown hair and what my mother calls "a strong nose." I mean, I'm not revolting or anything, but I'm not pretty.

  At least, I was never pretty until Cal. Cal himself was so beautiful, he could have had any girl he wanted—and he chose me. Of course, he had chosen me for awful reasons, but in spite of that I didn't believe he'd totally faked the way he looked at me, touched me, kissed me. It seemed like I'd become beautiful. Now, without him, I felt plain again.

  Mary K. fiddled with her seat belt and turned to me. "So. . what happened with you and Cal? I mean, the real story."

  My fingers tightened on the steering wheel. I took a deep breath. Then I finally told her everything that had happened the day of the fire. Everything I hadn't told my parents.

  "Oh my God," was all she could say when I was done. "Oh my God, Morgan."

  "You know, I owe you an apology for being so judgmental about you and Bakker," I told her. "I guess I expected you to handle the whole situation according to a simple, rational formula: Bakker hurts Mary K.; Mary K. dumps Bakker."

  "That's how it should have been." Mary K.'s voice was so quiet, I could barely hear her. "I can't believe I gave him another chance."

  "Two weeks ago I couldn't understand that," I said slowly, my thoughts forming my words. "But feelings don't work rationally. I did the same thing. All last week I knew things were wrong with Cal. But I didn't want to believe he could hurt me, even after he used his magick against me."

  "He'd done it before?"

  "The night before my birthday." The night we almost killed Hunter, I thought. Mary K. didn't need to know that part. I swallowed hard. "Cal—put a binding spell on me. I couldn't move. It was like I was drugged."

  "Oh, great. All these things you're telling me really make me want to walk into a room full of witches." Mary K. peered out through her window as I pulled into a parking spot down the block from Practical Magick. "Is it too late to turn around and go home?"

  "Yes. It's too late." I smiled and shut off the engine, but Mary K. just sat there, tugging her glove off and then on again. When she spoke, she sounded young and vulnerable.

  "I appreciate what you said about me and Bakker. And I know that Wicca and your—your birth mother mean a lot to you. But all this witch stuff—it scares me. Especially when you tell me what's happened to you because of it."

  I sighed. Maybe I'd told her too much.

  "That's why it's so important to me that you come to this party," I tried to explain. "I want you to meet these people, to see that they're not all weird or scary or evil. I don't want to have to hide what I am. Please, Mary K. If you're really uncomfortable, we won't stay. I promise."

  She looked down at her lap. After a moment she nodded.

  "Okay," I said, trying to sound cheery. "Let's party."

  10. The Party

  July, 1991

  We are in Borbeaux, staying with Leandre, a Wyndenkell cousin of Fiona's. Fiona is not well. She says it's only a chill she caught during the channel crossing, but I'm afraid it's something more serious. For a week now she's had a fever every night, and none of the usual remedies seem to help it. I'm almost ready to suggest that she go to a doctor of western medicine.

  I went out today and hunted though the fields until I found a chunk of quartz the size of my fist. It's not as good as obsidian, but I think it will serve. I'm going to scry for our children, our town, our coven. I feel heavy with dread at the thought of what I might see.

  — Maghach

  Mary K. wasn't the only one who was nervous. I felt flutters in my stomach as we walked up the block toward the store. It had occurred to me that I was going to have to walk into a room full of people who all probably knew exactly what had happened with me and Cal. I pictured the talk stopping and all eyes turning toward me and Mary K. the minute we opened the door. My pace slowed to a halt.

  Mary K. looked at my face. "Want to go home?" she asked shrewdly.

  I swallowed. "No. Come on."

  As it turned out, our entrance hardly attracted any notice at all. I stood by the glass doors, peeling off my gloves and gathering my courage. The party was already in full swing. Practical Magick was lit with candles and tiny white Christmas lights, and fragrant pine boughs decked the molding. Shelves had been moved into the nonbook half of the store so a platform stage could be set up. A cloth printed with Celtic knots was draped over the counter and covered with platters of food.

  Alyce, wearing a long blue velvet dress, was the first to greet us. "Morgan," she said, folding me into a hug. "You look wonderful. I'm so glad you made it. And this is …?”

  "My sister, Mary K."

  "Welcome," she said, clasping both of Mary K.'s hands in hers. "What a pleasure to meet you." Mary K. smiled; it was impossible not to respond to Alyce's warmth.

  Alyce waved us in. "It's crowded already," she warned. "There's a coat rack set up against the back wall, cold drinks by the stockroom door, and hot apple cider on the little table by the Books of Shadows."

  "Are The Fianna really playing? asked Mary K.

  "They are. They're in the back room, going over their set list.”

  "How did you ever get them?" Mary K. was clearly awestruck.

  "Connections," Alyce told her. "The lead guitarist is my nephew. Would you like to meet them?"

  My sister's eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

  "Now's your chance." Alyce slipped an arm through Mary K.'s and led her behind the counter and into the back room.

  I surveyed the other guests. It was crowded. I spotted the elderly couple from upstairs holding hands and beaming happily. Even from across the room, I could sense their relief. I felt a rush of pleasure, knowing that some problems had quick and happy solutions.

  Sharon and Ethan were standing near an aluminum tub filled with ice and canned drinks, their heads bent toward each other. Jenna, wearing a silky slip dress with a cropped cardiga
n, was chatting animatedly to a guy who'd been in the shop the other day. He was laughing at something she said, and I noticed her ex, Matt, watching them. From the way Jenna cast a subtle glance in Matt's direction, I could tell she enjoyed knowing that Matt was watching her flirt.

  Things are getting more and more complicated, I thought. I glanced around, looking for Hunter. I almost missed him because he was kneeling down in deep conversation with a little boy I recognized as the four-year-old son of the other tenant, Lisa Winston. The little boy seemed to be explaining something very important to Hunter, and Hunter was nodding seriously. Then Hunter said something, and the boy laughed with delight. Hunter must have felt my eyes on him because he suddenly glanced my way. I felt my heart catch; was it nerves?

  Hunter went back to talking to the boy, and I was wondering if I should go join them when I heard someone say my name behind me.

  "Morgan, isn't it?" I turned to see a middle-aged woman with salt-and-pepper hair in a thick French braid. She looked familiar, yet I couldn't place her.

  "I'm Riva. I met you once at Selene's. I'm part of Starlocket," she explained. "I heard about what Selene and Cal tried to do to you," she added, staring at me.

  "Oh," I said. This was just what I'd been afraid of. I felt like a zoo exhibit and wished desperately that she'd just go away and leave me alone.

  "I couldn't believe it," she went on. "I had no idea Selene was mixed up with dark magick. I promise you, if any of us had known, we wouldn't have let her lead us."

  "Thanks," I said awkwardly. "That's good to know." She nodded and moved on to talk with another woman I recognized from Starlocket.

  The mention of dark magick made me think again of the presence I'd felt at home and at the garage. I had checked to be sure that the protective sigils that Sky and Hunter had left at the house were still there, and it was reassuring that they were. Knowing that I had my altar set up also gave me something approaching peace of mind. Maybe I should find a book on altar magick, I thought. At least it would give me something to do besides standing here like a dork.