by Patti Larsen
“Irrelevant,” Celeste snapped, though I could see from her expression she knew she’d already lost the argument, felt the coven pull away from her and side solidly with Mom. Her face twisted in fury for a moment when she realized she stood alone. But that fact did nothing to silence her. “He performed blood magic at our sacred coven site. Witch or not, powerless or not, he is still guilty.”
“His powerlessness is a death in itself,” Erica said. “I accept this punishment.”
Murmured agreement passed around the coven in a rapid rush. I could feel them all through the house, packed as closely to the basement door as they could reach, the stairs clogged with witches who didn’t have the heart to come any closer.
Mom bowed her head, tears dropping like tiny jewels into her hands. Celeste’s fury bubbled, her hate openly written all over her face for the first time.
“Very well,” she hissed. “I too accept this punishment. But if he ever recovers his power, if even for a moment he regains what he’s lost, he will be subject to our laws and will be executed for this crime.”
The coven agreed quickly, too quickly for my liking, but it was enough they were able to reconcile the truth of the incident with their own sense of honor if only to preserve the coven and their leader.
Celeste shoved her way out, rough and furious, past witches who flinched back from her, wouldn’t meet her eyes. Once she’d gone, her angry energy passing the wards, I felt the family release from their vigil and begin their own sad exodus.
I didn’t care about them, not even for a second. I didn’t even give a crap about Celeste and her plans. Because I knew she had to have plans, some way in her mind to make this work to her advantage. And to the Dumont’s advantage. There was no hiding from me she was their little tattletale and would be handing this information over to that hideous woman, Odette Dumont, to feed her plots against Mom. I could almost hear the horrid old lady’s cackling laughter but shoved it away.
At the moment, I didn’t care even a little.
My dad was safe, Mom too. Meira. Me. And that was all that mattered.
Meira crept to my side, peeking at Sassafras. He stepped toward her, offering his hand, but she shrank from him, burst into tears and ran upstairs. I let her go, using Galleytrot as a support to help me up, my knees wobbling beneath me. Sassy stared at me, guilt warring with anger on his handsome face.
“Now what?” He stuck his hands in his pockets, eyes on level with mine. He wasn’t very big, and quite lean, shaggy black hair tucked behind his ears, olive skin making him look almost tanned. He seemed uncomfortable, awkward, as if he didn’t know what to do with himself. A part of me tried to feel sorry for him.
Mom didn’t share my empathy, it turned out. She glared at him like he’d done all of this on purpose. “Now,” she snapped, “we return what you’ve taken, cat, and find a way to send Harry home.”
Sassy scowled at her, sullen and resistant. But he nodded before turning his back on all of us.
***
Chapter Five
Dad passed out again shortly thereafter, forcing Mom to use her magic to carry him up to her bedroom. Erica hovered nearby, as if unsure whether to leave or stay and I didn’t have the will to tell her either way.
We all gathered in Mom’s room. No matter how long Dad lived with us, I always thought of it as hers. The black satin comforter, the scent of lilacs permeating everything, the subtle touches all came together, alerting anyone who crossed the threshold a woman lived here, a woman of power.
Dad looked reduced, tucked into the dark bedclothes, his skin pale and almost translucent, deep circles under his eyes. I stayed near the foot of the bed, trying not to hover, holding my hands tightly together to keep myself from wringing them. My anxiety was still building. As much as Mom cleared Dad and ensured he’d survive, her intent to use what now resided in Sassy to restore him and return him home meant attracting Celeste’s attention. Besides, hadn’t Dad just tried literally everything, including blood magic, to open the veil between planes and go home?
He woke again as we all stood there, silent, no one willing to speak, as though talking would shatter some truce we held together. I felt Galleytrot press against my right side, saw the flutter of striped fabric on my left and knew Sassafras stood close as well. I wanted to reach out to him, to tell him this wasn’t his fault, but I couldn’t seem to make my hands come apart.
Dad met Mom’s eyes and smiled. “I’m sorry to bring so much trouble down on our family.”
Mom stroked his forehead, sinking to the bed, leaning forward to kiss him. “You’ve done nothing of the sort,” she said. “Everything that’s happened has been for a reason. You, my love, are trapped here with us because of my failing, not yours.”
He looked away for a moment, throat and jaw working as if holding off tears. He spotted Sassafras, smiled, raised one hand only to have it thump, powerless, back to the comforter.
Sass waved back. “Hi, Harry,” he said. “Sorry about this.”
“You were trying to help, I know that much.” Dad sighed. “If you hadn’t been there… Sassafras, my boy, you saved my life. I’m sure of it.”
I glanced at my cat, now a teenager, watched him flush.
“Harry,” Mom said, voice near a wail as she finally crumbled, “why? Why did you do it?”
Dad was silent for a long time, eyes closed, so long I thought he’d fallen back to sleep. When his eyes snapped open again, they were angry, but not at any of us.
“Odette,” he whispered, the name a curse. I knew how he felt. I thought of the old Dumont leader in the same way and swore at her often. I was about to have another reason to pile on top of my existing tower of hurts to hate her ugly guts. “She told me, being a demon, it was likely I couldn’t cross over because I wasn’t using the right kind of power source. That if I wanted it to work, I needed blood magic to do it.”
As much as I despised the woman, what she’d said did make an odd kind of sense. “Dad,” I said, “she’s right, isn’t she?” I wanted to smack myself in the forehead. “Demons use blood magic all the time.”
He nodded slowly. “We do,” he said. Paused. “They do.” Dad turned back to Mom. “Traditionally, we were worshipped with blood.”
She tried a smile, but it was so frail and fragile I knew it could collapse at any moment. “Oh Harry,” Mom said.
“I know.” His hands fisted around the comforter. “You don’t have to say it. I never should have listened. And I resisted a long time, Miriam. But when Syd was at risk, the Gate, and I was powerless… I’ve spent the entire winter trying, trying so hard. I just couldn’t take it anymore.”
Mom bent and rested her cheek on his shoulder while he struggled with his emotions. “I’m so sorry, Harry,” she said.
“No,” he slid one arm around her, some of his strength clearly returning, “I’m sorry. I’ve put you and the family in a terrible position.” As he continued to speak, I felt someone slide up to me, slip under my arm. I held Meira against me as she shrank from Sassafras, clinging to me. Dad met my eyes. “Girls,” he said, “I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting. For not being the father you needed, for being so very selfish.”
We both croaked out a denial, but he had already turned to Mom. “I’m leaving, Miriam,” he said. “You and the family are better off without me.”
Mom clung to him. “You’re not going anywhere,” she said.
I reached out to him, to show him how much I agreed, my power sliding over him. How easily I forgot he was empty.
Erica left us as Meira and I moved to the opposite side of the bed from Mom. My sister climbed up next to Dad, hugging him while I just sat and held his hand. I felt Galleytrot leave, heard his soft moan and chuff. I glanced up as he went, my eyes catching Sassy’s.
He stood there, watching us for a long time before he too turned, shoulders slumped, and left.
***
Chapter Six
Once family time was over and she’d deemed Dad suff
iciently recovered, Mom spent the rest of the evening trying to restore his power. Which meant Sassafras endured it right along with them.
I waited, watched, saw the pain in Sassy’s face, his endless squirming, waffling between empathy for what was clearly an uncomfortable process for him and annoyance he was making such a big deal out of it.
It was as if Mom was trying to use the family magic to wrestle the power out of Sassy, but every time the column of power dove inside him, the amber magic reacted, at first fighting her, then dissipating so her energy simply slid through him like a sieve over water.
When Dad finally cried out while Mom’s magic wove a lattice between the pair, hurting him too, she finally relented.
“We’ll try again in the morning.” She patted Dad’s hands without a glance for the rest of us, including Meira who clung to me like I could save her from what was happening.
Mom ushered us all out, Sassy and Galleytrot included, closing the door behind her. I stood there for a long time, feeling her seal herself off from us. I hadn’t felt this alone since she left last fall to go after Gram.
Honestly, I was happy to get out of there, as much as I felt guilty admitting it. Being around Dad was creeping me out, the way he felt so vacant. I shuddered, realizing it was the way I felt to everyone when my demon left me and understood then why the family avoided me like I had a plague.
It was just too heartbreaking to stand.
I tucked Meira in, snuggling her pink comforter around her neck.
“Can you leave the night light on?” She hadn’t used her cute little frog light in a long time. She was ten now, and growing up faster than I wanted. I almost felt better knowing she wasn’t afraid to ask for help and could hardly blame her for wanting some comfort.
“Sure, Meems.” I dug it out of the drawer and plugged it in. The soft green illumination cast a strange pall over her red tinted skin.
“Syd,” she whispered. “I don’t want him in here, okay?”
I glanced over my shoulder at Sassy who hovered in her doorway.
“It’s just Sass,” I whispered back.
“I know.” She squirmed under the covers. “But it’s not.”
I left her there, her smiling frog watching over her, closing the door behind me.
Sassafras met my gaze, his almost black eyes empty of expression. Before I could make an excuse for my sister, he turned and walked away.
Heading right for my room, Galleytrot trailing along behind him.
Um, right. The pair normally slept with me, the big dog at the foot of the bed, the silver Persian curled up wherever he deemed the most comfortable.
Awkward. I had to say something about our sleeping arrangements. But what?
I went downstairs to avoid the conversation for a bit, pacing the kitchen, snacking on some junk food from time to time, settling in front of the TV for a few moments only to get up and start circling the bottom floor of the house again. I couldn’t get comfortable, like something crawled under my skin and I wondered if part of the blood magic still lingered. I knew that was silly, there was no way the family magic would allow even a scrap of it to remain, but I found myself in the shower shortly after the idea struck me, scrubbing my skin raw under the hottest hot water I could stand until I almost passed out from the heat.
Down again I went, wet hair hanging over my shoulders, soaking my fresh T-shirt, pacing all over again. I spotted Galleytrot and Sassy in the kitchen, talking, but I couldn’t join them, couldn’t stop and hold a conversation. Not now. Not this way.
Not with him.
I could tell Sassafras was in pain, and not from what Mom attempted. He had this sullen, bitter look about him, the feeling of resentment barely hiding his emotional hurt.
Why couldn’t I feel sorry for him?
When Mom finally emerged, I raced upstairs and practically pounced on her. She looked so tired, her skin as pale as Dad’s. It made me wonder what she’d been up to behind those wards.
“Mom,” I grabbed her by the upper arms, forcing her to look at me, “what are we going to do?”
I wanted a firm answer, a Mom answer, wrapped in power and assurance. But instead she sagged in my grip, face crumpling in sorrow.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I just don’t know.”
I let her go, the pair of us standing there in the semi-dark of the upstairs landing, a long and excruciating silence stretching out between us. Should I comfort her? Lie to her? I didn’t have it in me.
Mom sighed deeply, as if expelling her grief in one breath. “We’ll figure something out.”
She was trying at least. I could do the same. A thought struck me, a distraction. We both needed one.
“I talked to Beth.” I leaned forward and hugged my mother. “She told me about her father’s new job. The scholarship.”
Mom managed to smile as I pulled away. “She’s a dear girl,” Mom said. “And her father is very talented. He’ll do a wonderful job managing the new fund.”
“Who is Katherine Brindle?” I felt like I should know the name.
Mom’s smile deepened, but she looked so tired I knew she wasn’t in the mood for even this little game of forget I was playing. “Ask me again sometime,” she said. Mom turned away from me, hand going to the door handle of her room. “Take care of things for me, would you, Syd? Just for a little while?”
I wanted to shout at her to stop looking at me like that, with so much weakness and pleading in her face. “Mom,” I said, “would you really have kept it from the coven? What Dad did?”
Her pain was replaced with a fierceness that drove me back a step. “Yes,” she said. “For him. For you. I would.”
The door closed behind her, shield closing her off from me again.
“The Brindles are old friends.” Sassafras hadn’t lost his ability to approach in silence. That part of his cattiness remained. He joined me from where he’d waited on the top step. “I knew Kate. She was a wonderful person, big hearted. She would have loved the idea of helping Beth.”
I shuddered, hugging myself, leaning away from Sassafras and his subtle scent of smoke and honey. Dad wasn’t the only one creeping me out. “I guess we should get you settled.” It felt suddenly very late and I needed to sleep. Though I was pretty sure I’d toss and turn most of the night, for now, my bed called me.
The hall closet disgorged a quilt and sheets, a spare pillow. Sassafras followed me down to the living room and watched as I made up the sofa. I turned to him, Galleytrot sitting at the foot of the stairs, watching, and gestured at the couch.
“We’ll try to figure out a bedroom for you,” I said. “But this will have to do you tonight.”
Sassafras grinned, lopsided, his handsome face twisting in amusement. I realized I liked the look of him, the snarky lift of his lips, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, how he stood there with a funny smile on his face. It was a relief I knew then I could get used to him this way.
Until he opened his smart-ass mouth.
“I thought I’d just sleep on your bed tonight,” he said. “You know, like always.”
So not funny. Did he have any idea how many kinds of wrong and inappropriate that was? I think he must have, his face falling back into the sullen and distant stare he’d worn since emerging from the basement.
“Good night,” I snapped, stomping past him on the way to my room, leaving Galleytrot to keep him company.
“Night,” he said, voice carrying softly to me as I slammed my door behind me.
***
Chapter Seven
To my shock, I slept the whole night through, waking when my alarm clock screeched its annoying song. I smashed the snooze bar aggressively, just wanting five more minutes, before the memory of yesterday intruded and drove me out of bed.
Mom’s door was open when I peeked in, she and Dad missing. I felt around as cautiously as I could, not wanting her to think I was spying or anything.
Come down to breakfast. Her mental voice was tired but
firm.
Okay then.
I grabbed a quick shower and threw on my usual T-shirt and jeans for school before pounding down the stairs to the kitchen. School. Was I nuts? I slowed as I spotted the neatly folded sheets piled on the couch, heard voices coming from the kitchen. I eased down the hall, watching as Mom turned and handed Dad a cup of coffee.
Like nothing happened. She even smiled at him. For a precious moment I latched onto the hope maybe she’d fixed it after all, that Sassy was his furry self again, Dad had his power back and we could forget everything and just be our happy, abnormal family.
But one look in her eyes as she met mine told me everything I needed to know. A farce, this façade she’d created. For my benefit? Maybe. But more likely for her own sanity, and maybe for Meira who sat very quietly and ate her cereal without looking at anyone.
Especially not at Sassafras who was seated next to her, picking over two slices of very burned toast.
“Good morning, dear.” Mom handed me a glass of orange juice and gestured for me to sit, sliding a plate of my own decimated bread in front of me, the edges so black they curled upward. The stench of seared wheat filled the kitchen. I looked up, caught Dad frowning into his cup, gaze far away. He seemed all right at least, if still mortal. Aside from a slight shake in his hand as he set the mug down, he appeared recovered from the incident.
The incident. I couldn’t even think of it like what it really was—the end of my father’s chances to go home.
I choked on the few bites I attempted while Meira snuck out to get on the bus. I chased after her, half way out of the kitchen door before catching her and turning her around to face me.
“Disguise.” I kissed her cheek as she blushed, her human appearance sliding over her demon face. “It’s okay, Meems,” I said. “I’ll see you after school.”
She didn’t say anything, just turned and climbed the three steps, the doors sliding shut behind her. School. We were both crazy.