by Shay Cabe
Now I have to figure out whether I want to jump through the hoops of the Hazards’ forgiveness game or punch them in their super-hot faces. At this point, it can go either way and I’m more than happy to do the latter. Repeatedly.
As I sit there hugging Cookie like the lifeline she is, I think over my options. Their game is childish, but I honestly get it. It’s the use of the word pain that keeps getting stuck. Why would they feel physical pain? Emotional, I get. We were super tight, but the physical part has me stumped.
Sitting back on my heels I snap my fingers. An old tome appears on the bed next to me.
“Well, Cookie, lets see if I can figure this stupid situation out. I’m not sure I want to let my guilt lead and play their game… at least, not the way they expect it to play out.” She huffs and lays down to watch me flip through the pages.
Towards the end I find what I’m looking for. ‘Witch-born’.
Skimming through the facts I already know I stop when I find the first mention of physical pain. “Shit.”
Once bonded to their witch soul any long distance separation can cause great pain to the witch-born. Sometimes the separation can cause madness and death. It is the responsibility of the witch soul to ensure their witch-born are always within a comfortable distance. The stronger the bond, the worse the pain.
I read the rest of it with half my attention. When did they bond with me? I had no idea a magical one existed between the five of us. Why didn’t anyone tell me? I could’ve done something different.
Wait. No. I couldn’t have. Leaving was the only thing that kept me safe and possibly even sane. Maybe they could’ve gone with us at least? I don’t effing know. Chewing my lip I absently pet Cookie, who’s snoring softly.
How do feel about the bond? I mean, it explains a few things but do I want this? Climbing off the bed I cross to the window and stare out at the woods behind the house. My gear is in waterproof crates in the backyard. I need to think and I do that best when I’m doing something physical.
I miss them, even now, but they want revenge and considering what I know now—I can see their point of view. Then again, it’s unfair. I suffered too, a lot.
Deciding that outside is a good option, I change into my workout clothes and head downstairs. Unpacking is easy because I cheat and use magic but I’ll make up for it in the workout. Sitting on an exercise ball, I wrap my feet and wave my hand to hang the punching bag.
Standing, I put my hair in a ponytail and start doing warm-ups. The moves are second nature and I push myself to go through them. I used to do this ten times a day, trying to burn out that anger, but all I managed to do was tame it under a cover of thin control.
I’m always angry, I just manage it carefully. I also try to look at the good side of things as often as possible but am usually as cynical as it gets. Another leftover lesson from the slutty therapist. Looking at the bright side does in fact trick you into being more positive. Often enough to keep practicing it. Nothing is ever one hundred percent. The rest of the time I beat something up and feel better. Normally, it's the punching bag but once in a while it's a jerk or two.
I’m not entirely sure what kind of person that makes me but it keeps me moving forward instead of being locked inside my head. I never hurt someone who doesn’t deserve it, but I also don’t feel bad for hurting them either.
The hair on my arms raise and a knife is sailing through the air before I turn to face the intruder. Seeing Ms. Hazard standing there with a smile on her face stops the knife a few inches from her. It quivers there before returning to the table it was sitting on before.
“Well, I see that you’ve changed quite a bit my dear. The boys weren’t exaggerating,” she muses, walking closer to me with only a small look at the table full of weapons against the fence.
“Hello, Ms. Hazard,” I greet a bit nervously. I can’t believe I almost stabbed their mom in the face. If I could facepalm and not look as stupid as I feel, I would.
“Your father called me,” she says, giving me a pitying look. This won’t be good news.
“Okay,” I say lamely, stripping off the small gloves on my hands.
“He will be out of town for an undetermined amount of time and I insisted that you to come stay with us.”
Oh, hell no.
“I’m fine here,” I answer turning away to try to look busy while working through the shock. The last thing in the world I want to do right now is to go and stay with the Hazard boys. I haven’t even decided how I will play their game yet.
“There’s no other option, I’m afraid. The council won’t allow you to remain here alone and neither will I.”
I scoff, I can’t help it, no one else has cared much about me being alone before. I have no idea why he called her, because he’s never had a problem leaving me on my own, even for months at a time. More importantly, why did she insist I come stay with her when she has to have some inkling of what the guys are up to.
“It’ll give us some time to catch up and the boys have missed you.”
Yeah, so much so they want to bring me pain. Instead I say, “He’s been gone plenty of times and left me on my own, I’m used to it.”
“This time I’m here and I simply can’t allow it, Nora. You’ve gone without any structure and parenting long enough.”
This brings me around to face her. “What do you mean?”
She shrugs and says, “Let’s just say I have a feeling about it.”
Ms. Hazard’s feelings aren’t to be ignored. She’s a seer, a good one and as far as I know has only been wrong once. She told my mom I’d die with her. Grabbing a towel, I wipe the sweat off my face. I’m totally stalling and from the knowing look she’s giving me, she’s fully aware.
The only thing keeping my mouth shut is the fact that Ms. Hazard is a doll baby and being rude to her is like kicking kittens. Otherwise I’d tell her exactly how I feel about needing parenting.
“Is something going on between you and the boys?” she asks suspiciously. I shake my head and she purses her lips then continues, “I figured you might be excited to come and stay after being gone so long.”
“Dunno yet. You should probably ask them.” I have no intention of telling her they're being assholes. I’m pretty sure she already knows.
“Ah, I see.” And she probably does. “Things like this work themselves out in time. Now,” she waves towards the house, “go grab yourself enough things for a few weeks, including your arsenal. We can load them in the truck and get home in time to get dinner going.”
The surety that telling her no again won’t matter pushes me to give in without a word and head upstairs. Oh yeah, I’m a total badass who gives in to a tiny blonde woman that’s four inches shorter than I am and looks like a Barbie doll. Dragging my feet, I pack my stuff and take a quick shower. It’s the second one today but I need that few minutes to think without having her eyes on me.
It’s time to make my plan. I’m going to play their game but with my rules.
I smile while I’m drying off and catch the reflection of my face in the mirror. My eyes are glowing and the smile is a little on the feral side with a bit of sharp teeth peeking out. Yeah, my rules.
In the end I don’t think they’ll enjoy playing games with me anymore.
Chapter Five
When we walk into the house all four of them are sitting on the large sectional couch in the sunken living room. They’re also all staring at me with their mouths hanging open. The smile on my face is full of amusement, even if it has an edge to it.
“Boys, go unload Nora’s things from the truck into the basement. I’m going to get her settled in.” The tone of her voice leaves no room for argument; it’s the magic mom voice.
I’m pretty sure I hear a few ‘yes ma’am’s’ in all the grumbling they’re doing under their breath, I smile bigger. I follow her up the curved stairway to the second floor. Pictures line the stairway. A lot of them have me in them with the boys. I stop at the top and stare at the one with m
y mom and Ms. Hazard in it. The burn in my chest is enough to make me turn away but her face still lingers in my mind.
I guess Ms. Maple was right, I do look a little like her.
“She’d be proud of you,” Ms. Hazard says, opening the door to the familiar bedroom I’ve stayed in many times before. It looks identical except for the toys I played with as a kid being gone. I say nothing about her comment. With Mom’s face fresh in my mind and the sadness that always comes with it, I’m not sure I won’t start bawling like the little kid that stood in this house all those years ago.
Cookie appears on the bed and she flops down like she owns the place.
“Ah, I see your familiar has returned. I’m not surprised.” I am. I expected her to protest along with me. She sighs with contentment and closes her eyes, it looks like I’m the only one who doesn’t want to be here. “Nora, everything will work out in the end,” Ms. Hazard says softly, gently squeezing my shoulder. For some reason this makes me want to cry again but I swallow the tears down.
“Sure,” I say while meaning the complete opposite.
“Someone took a lot of the sunshine out of you, Nora but that’s okay… in its place is strength and you have it in spades.” Her words sound hollow and I know that they’re not normal words. Her eyes have a slight blue sheen to them which means she’s seeing something. “Now, I need to figure out dinner while you settle in.” She squeezes my shoulder again and then heads down the stairs.
Looking around me to make sure there were no Hazard boys around I duck into my temporary room and shut the door as I’m flooded with memories of my childhood here. Mostly good memories. I shake them off.
There are other things I need to think about now. Mainly, what in creation is going on with my Dad? Why did he call her and say he was leaving? He never does that. I pull my laptop out and check all of my emails, even the one only he and I use. Nothing. Even at his worst parenting moments he leaves me some notice of him leaving. I didn’t see any post its on my door back at the house, either. This concerns me.
Is he in trouble?
Ms. Hazard didn’t seem upset, but she never does. I can’t recall seeing her angry more than once in my life. I also think asking her questions will get me nowhere either but I think she knows something is going on. Potentially something bad.
I sit down on the floor and lean back against the cool wall. I can’t stand my dad most of the time, but I can’t lose him too.
As if fate herself has pity on me my phone beeps. I look at it and feel the cloud of worry starting to weigh on me lessens. It’s a text message from my him.
See you in a few weeks, don’t forget to pay my credit cards. Dad
I text him back, annoyed it worried me even a little. Pay your own cards.
The screen shows him typing, but it starts and stops several times before I get his reply. I should’ve let the council have you.
It hurts and I hate that it does but not nearly as much as it used to. I toss my phone onto the bed; what an asshole. He’s probably found a new girlfriend. He acts worse when he meets someone and then drags her home and spends crap tons of money and then tries to get me to spend mine. Which I don’t. So far there have been a long list of women who think he has money and sniff around hoping to get their hands on it.
The problem for them is the money is all mine.
A light knock on the door makes me sigh in defeat. There’s something more going on but adults tend to think it's best to not tell the kids about it. That concept is dumb, the minute they start pushing us into combat magic or something similar—the kid part ends. Some parents even push people my age into marriage.
Ms. Hazard will see soon enough that I’m sixteen, not five, and perfectly capable of taking care of myself. More so than my Dad ever has, but per human laws, I’m still not legally able to make most decisions for myself. That doesn’t mean anyone gets the right to treat me like a child. And the laws are only a temporary stop measure.
I’ll eventually find a way around it.
“Nora, why don’t you come down and wash up for dinner. I ordered pizza,” Ms. Hazards muffled voice floats through the door. Climbing to my feet I put my backpack on the bed, pet Cookie’s head and cross to the door to open it. The hallway is empty but I see her moving down the stairs.
This is the last place I want to be but I’ll make do. Besides, it gives me a chance to study my opponents. The ones who foolishly think I’m going to go along with their game like a nice little herbivore. I force a smile on my face and jog down the stairs. Oh, I will play it. My way. Girls aren’t made of spice and everything nice, girls like me are made of mean.
The boys are sitting around the giant dining room table when I enter the room. All of their heads lift in tandem as they stare at me. The mix of reactions on them is enough to make me smile for real. Hez, the ringleader of this entire stupid game has a mix of happy and annoyance on his face while Barrett, sitting beside of him with a piece of pizza half way raised to his mouth, is smiling and contemplative.
“Help yourself, Nora. I got you one with banana peppers on it, I hope you still like it that way,” Ms. Hazard says, ushering me into the chair at the head of the table. She puts a paper plate in front of me and points to the unopened pizza box. Smiling at each of the guys I open it and grab a piece.
Taking a big bite I chew, knowing there’s a big smear of sauce on my chin. Wiping it off with a napkin I keep eating happily. I haven’t had Old Time’s pizza in years and it's always been my favorite. Witch made pizza always tastes better than normal food.
“So Nora, the boys tell me they share the same classes as you. Are those the ones you wanted? If not, I can call up and talk to the principal and get them switched around,” Ms. Hazard offers, taking a delicate bite of her own veggie pizza.
“Hey, she got the classes she wants,” Hez protests.
The twinkle in Ms. Hazard’s eyes tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing. Sneaky woman. I decide to play along. “Yeah, maybe I should some of them. I don’t really need art class—“
“You need art credits for college,” Phoenix says from the other end of the table. I look at him and find him sitting there with his empty hands clasped on the table before him. His eyes are boring into me and I smile. He knows the little game that’s being played. He was always the quickest one to catch on.
“I took art in summer school my freshman year. I don’t need the credit.” Which is nothing but the truth. I took it here because I figured at least one of the guys would be in it, like an idiot. I don’t plan on changing my classes but it's nice to know that the idea of it bothers them.
Phoenix chews on his bottom lip as he contemplates me. It’s only a little bit of a surprise when he grabs the butter knife off the table beside him and hurls it at me, I catch it before it hits my face and flip it around my hand then hold my hand out flat with it resting on my palm. I take another bite of my pizza as every piece of silverware on the table, including the knife in my hand, lifts in the air and points at him. His eyes widen in surprise.
“Children, not at the dinner table,” Ms. Hazard scolds. I let the silverware gently float back to their places on the table and keep eating.
“Sorry, Ms. H. I think the guys are too used to playing with Tadpoles,” I say wiping my mouth and standing up. “I’m going to go unpack my stuff.”
“I don’t know what kind of game you four are playing but I don’t think you’re going to get the outcome you expect,” Ms. Hazard’s voice follows me up the stairs. I laugh and know that they hear me.
The rest of the night, I’m left in relative peace. I can hear the guys arguing down the hallway, I even hear one of them walk to my door and stand outside of it for several minutes. Maybe more than one of them, but none of them knock or try to talk to me. They just stand there and make me hyper aware that they are. Hopefully, the little demonstration at the table makes them rethink their revenge plot, but I doubt it. If anything else it made them love the game even more.
> As I fall asleep with the warm, furry presence of Cookie beside me I think of my game plan for the next day trying to avoid that sting in my heart that I have to play one at all.
Chapter Six
The next morning I get up an hour early so I can beat everyone out the door and avoid the morning jumble with the guys. To give them credit, they still manage to beat me to school. All four of them are leaning against the hood of Hez’s car watching me park. I grab my backpack and flip them off as I head towards the school. They need to get used to it because they’re going to see my middle finger a lot.
My prediction proves true. I’m sure I used it every class, in between every class and as I’m heading out the door after school. How are they liking their petty game now? I changed the rules on them.
Sure, they were letting the Bitch-faces practically dry hump them in the hallway and Hez even had one on his lap at lunch but I ignored it. I know why they’re doing it and I can’t let them see it affect me, that’s their big game plan. The assholes knew we were bonded before I did.
Something I’m still reeling from discovering and have carefully avoided delving into too deeply.
The last bell rings and I head straight for my car. Maybe if I leave now, I can beat them home and get some work out time before the octopi girls let them out of their grasps. The two girls from the dodgeball game standing in front of my Jeep completely derail my plans. I stop in front of them and put my backpack on the ground. It’s time to nip this shit in the bud.
“If you want to throw down, that’s cool, but this only going to end one way. I’m not like you or your friends. I won’t stop cos you cry—I’ll keep going until you’re bleeding and on your way to the hospital.” I open my hands at my side and the Jeep behind them lifts several inches off the ground. They jump away from it and I let it fall to the ground, loudly. “Keep coming at me over this stupid shit and I’ll show you exactly how much I like to hurt people like you.”