by Patti Larsen
I hopped out and shivered, reaching down to do up the zipper on my jacket. It was the end of April so the days were much warmer, but the evenings still dipped cold enough for bundling up.
“Ah,” Alison said, a huge grin on her face. “There’s nothing like the first field party of the year!”
Blood and Pain nodded agreement and headed off with Alison. Beth and Simon took a step closer and looked at me with expectation.
“It’s my first party, too,” Beth said in almost the same voice Simon used. I realized they were both very nervous and looked to me for support. To me.
Oh crap.
“I’m sure it’ll be fun.” It sounded weak, even in my own ears.
They both smiled but Beth’s was a little too strained and Simon blinked rapidly behind his glasses.
“Ready?” They both nodded. I started after the other three, not realizing until I turned around that Beth and Simon now glued themselves to me on either side.
I liked them both a lot, but seriously. I’m not mommy material. Still, to be fair, they did look up to me, as much as it made me shudder, because of how I stood up to the bullies the previous fall. I guess they saw me as brave or something equally as stupid. So, I was stuck with them and, to be honest, the closer we came to the party, the more I was grateful they were with me. In fact, by the time we reached the outer circle of kids, I walked so slowly we barely moved. Their momentum alone kept me going. I’m pretty sure if I was alone I would have turned around and just gone home.
A massive bonfire blazed in the middle of the clearing, reminding me of family and the upcoming Beltane night ritual. My birthday fell on Beltane, the big spring renewal festival, and for the first time ever I agreed to take part as a full participant, no holds barred. Talk about scary stuff.
But it wasn’t just the bonfire giving me such shivers. The clearing was packed with kids. The football team took up most of the space around the fire, leaving the rest of the crowd to make their own familiar groups—the emos were an easy spot, parked just past the edge of the light, pinpoints of red glowing as they smoked. The cheers were, as typical, woven in among the jocks. School all over again, just out in the open where the mustiness of their need to stick together didn’t reek quite so bad.
I knew most of the people there weren’t my fans or anything. Not that anyone had a grudge against me. Okay, so maybe Suzanne and a handful of the cheer squad. But I certainly didn’t expect the cheers and laughter as the crowd seemed to turn as one and spot me. People I barely knew waved bottles and called my name and, in my utter shock, I found myself grinning and waving back.
Rock star entrance, who knew it? I almost felt like I belonged.
Alison appeared out of nowhere and grabbed my arm. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked really happy.
“Party!” She laughed, pulling on me to follow her.
I took the first step inside the circle and felt a surge of something I didn’t recognize flow up through the ground and into me, then out to the night. I stumbled from the magical contact and looked around a little panicked for the source. But whatever it was had gone and I was being bodily dragged into the light. The sight of Brad waiting for me by the bonfire with a huge smile on his face was enough for me to forget my own name.
Magic? What magic?
***
Chapter Four
I officially decided I hated field parties.
What was it about my age group and their belief they needed to get drunk, stoned and stupid in order to have a good time? I dodged a puking sophomore just in time to save my shoes and kept moving. At least this time I wasn’t responsible for the throwing up, but somehow knowing it didn’t make me feel any better.
Alison made sure I stood in the thick of things from the moment I arrived, immediately hooking me up with Brad so she could wander off. Having Beth and Simon hanging from me kind of put a damper on our greeting, but I could tell Brad was really happy to see me and had a momentary glimmer of guilt that power drew us together. I discovered the previous fall Brad had a latent talent, born with the goods but no way to access them. Because of that, he had no involvement with magic but was, it turned out, instinctively drawn to me and my demon. I felt bad when I wasn’t with him. Only then did I understand I was somehow taking advantage of his attraction. But as soon as I saw him, all the reasoning in the world just went out the window and the hormones took over.
Tonight was no different. I went from guilt to weak in the knees in the time it took for him to smile at me again. Tall, broad-shouldered with a cute little cleft in his chiseled chin, blond hair shining in the firelight… how could any girl with a heartbeat be expected to turn him down?
Beat it, conscience.
One arm went around my shoulders, pulling me tight to him as his lips descended, covering mine. The familiar tingle of him drew me in for only a moment, the softness of his lips and the warmth of his body only keeping my attention for a heartbeat. As soon as I tasted the beer on his breath, I gagged a little and pulled back.
I was hardly surprised he was drinking. Everywhere I looked I spotted beer cans. I was just disappointed he tasted like a brewery gone to rot.
“Hey, babe,” Brad said, “have a cold one.” He offered me a beer from the cooler he kept at his feet. I shuddered and shook my head.
“Thanks anyway,” I said while his buddies snickered at my lack of coolness. Whatever. They had no idea what a simple beer might do. And neither did I.
It’s true most kids my age experimented with alcohol. Naturally. I’m not a prude or anything. But drinking has a far different effect on witches than it does normals. An often scary and unpredictable effect. Some witches are fine, some have mild allergic reactions that make them silly. And some lose their minds and go on a rampage.
Knowing the state of my magic, I was willing to bet I would be in the last category. It was a scenario I just wasn’t willing to risk in the company of strangers. Or friends for that matter. Uncle Frank told me when I turned eighteen, under-aged or not, he would take me out somewhere no one would be hurt and get me really drunk so we could find out what would happen. I still wasn’t so sure I wanted to know.
Not like I wasn’t used to parties. The coven had some over the top ideas about what made a fun time, so seeing this excess was hardly new. I was shocked at myself and at how sickened I felt by the whole mess.
Damn it. Was I really a prude after all?
I could feel my demon stretching and reaching inside me, attracted to the energy of all those kids, getting stronger and stronger as they grew drunker and drunker. I actually took a step back from Brad and his offered can. Big reason number two not to indulge? There was no way I would lose control for any reason whatsoever for as long as my demon and I were at odds. She had a funny sense of humor having nothing to do with ‘ha ha’.
“What’s the matter, Syd?” Suzanne Parker, cheer squad leader and not my biggest fan, tossed her glossy blonde pigtails from her shoulders, though not as smoothly as she would normally. Her nasty smile seemed cut by the fact she could hardly focus on me. “Too good for us or something?”
Her friends laughed while I waved my hand in front of my face. “Might want to lay off the booze, Suzanne,” I said, disgusted by the waft of horrid breath I caught. “Getting a little ripe.”
She scowled, wobbling, sloshing a beer can toward me so I had to dodge the droplets shaking free. “You’re a loser,” she slurred.
Whatever. I caught Brad’s eye and felt a surge of anger. He grinned and held up the beer.
“Syd’s cool,” he said. “Right, babe?”
Peer pressure sucks. Big time. And he so wasn’t worth it.
Suzanne had already lost interest, it seemed, too enthralled by the can in her hand to notice if I cared or not.
I drifted away from Brad when his football buddies began a spitting contest, trying not to judge him too harshly for being disgusting. A thick puff of wood smoke erupted from the fire as I passed, making me choke and wave my h
and to clear it. I stumbled on a small collection of kids hovered around a joint, the musty, tart odor making me flinch. Did I mention drugs were worse for witches? Talk about accessing some scary power. A little weed was a great way to accidentally tap into raising the dead or calling up more unpleasant things that go bump in the night. I waved at the strong smell, trying to breathe in as little as possible, quickly moving on.
I made it to the edge of the crowd and hunched further inside my coat, resisting the urge to hug myself. It wasn’t until I turned to face the bonfire that I realized Beth and Simon were still with me.
Simon’s eyes shone huge behind his glasses and I knew the sheltered kid had never seen anything like this party before. I went to some pretty overwhelming coven shindigs and at least knew what to expect, but he was total fresh meat. As for Beth, she had a permanent smile etched on her face, cheeks white and pinched from it.
“You two okay?” I asked them. They both nodded quickly and murmured some crap about how fun the party seemed.
Right. What fun.
Someone, actually a pair of someones as it turned out, began rustling and moaning in the bushes behind me. That kicked me physically into moving on again. Yikes! Talk about small town kids gone wild. They could sell the video.
But the last straw for me came when Billy Thomas, football star, stripped off his shirt and chugged the remainder of a keg over his head while the crowd chanted, “Drink! Drink! Drink!”
I was witness to my first power puke ever, streams of beer and undigested cheeseburger and fries making a straight shot like the spray from a fire hose into the crowd.
My dinner did stay down. Barely.
I took one look at my innocent friends and felt a surge of protectiveness echoed by my demon. Prude or not, witch or not, bitch or not, enough was enough.
“You two stay here,” I said, marching off. “I’ll be right back.”
I didn’t look back to see if they obeyed. I was too busy scanning the crowd. I spotted Pain hanging with the emo crowd and went right to her.
“Can we go?” I asked her before I even came to a standstill, not making it a question. Pain immediately stood up from the cooler she sat on but Blood caught her arm and waggled one open hand at me.
“Chill, Sydalicious,” he said, eyes a little glazed. Great. He was stoned. “The party’s just getting started.”
“Well, it’s just ended for me.” I didn’t care the edge in my voice came out harsher than I intended.
“Whoa.” He blinked at me, pulling himself up from the ground, swaying. “Ease off, my friend. Gently.”
I scowled at him. “Nice to see you’re enjoying yourself.”
“Wicked.” He chuckled before sobering and frowning a little. “Wait, you didn’t mean that, did you?”
Oh boy.
“Never mind,” I said to Pain. “We’ll walk, it’s not far. Have fun.”
I turned away and headed back to Beth and Simon, trying to push down my anger. It really wasn’t far and now that I saw how stoned Blood had become, I worried maybe Pain also partook of the happy grass. No way could I risk that. Besides, it wasn’t their fault I didn’t want to be there, was it? Stupid to take it out on them. I knew the truth before I even arrived.
I just didn’t belong here.
I was halfway back when I spotted a vision in leather sitting on a black motorcycle watching me. I actually stumbled to a halt and stared back. My demon roared to life and purred like a kitten, reaching for the guy on the bike. I swayed toward him as he climbed off and stood next to it, slowly pulling off the heavy black gloves he wore, not taking his eyes from me.
Quaid Moromond was the guy Mom wanted me to marry. Sort of. At least, that was the arrangement when we were babies, made by my very misguided mother and his power hungry one. Turned out his parents were the evil traitors who hated my family and tried to destroy us all. Quaid, on the other hand, tall, lean Quaid with his heavy black hair and chocolate brown eyes, his beautiful olive skin and wide lips, was not like them. Nope. Quaid was a good boy in a bad boy’s body.
Were those leather pants? My gut clenched and I caught my breath. What was wrong with me? My demon hummed happily and fought for control. I honestly would have thought it was a spell if I didn’t know better.
Stupid hormones.
Fortunately or not, my focus shattered. I saw the change in Quaid’s face before I felt the bubble we were in crack and fall away.
“Syd!” Brad’s hands fell on my arms as he spun me around, the stink of beer even stronger now. He must have been in the path of some of the disgorged keg. “Where’d you go? We were just getting into it! You should have seen me, I beat everybody!”
I tried to smile and pull myself away, but part of me worried if I freed myself from him he wouldn’t have the balance to keep himself upright.
“Cool, Brad,” I said. Not really, but I did my best.
“Come on,” he said, pulling me toward the fire. “I’ll get you a beer.”
I tugged myself loose as gently as I could. “I’m actually leaving.”
“How come?” He seemed genuinely confused, the little boyishness in him exactly what drew me to him in the first place. How could he be so innocent and sweet and such a Neanderthal at the same time?
“Have fun,” I said and turned my back on him. And almost walked right into Quaid. He wasn’t looking at me, though. His eyes glittered black in the low light as he watched Brad with a cynical little smile twisting his lips.
“Nice,” was all he said. He looked down at me then, something in his face that actually made me feel guilty by association.
Jerk.
“Moromond,” Brad growled at Quaid.
“Football,” Quaid rumbled back.
Boys. Seriously.
“Come on, Syd,” Brad said, hand going for my arm. “I’ll take you home.”
I didn’t even get a chance to protest that he, under no circumstances whatsoever, would be driving anywhere in his condition. Quaid’s hand blocked Brad and he smoothly put himself between myself and the football captain so quickly I barely had time to register he moved.
“Maybe you want to go hang out with your buddies.”
Well, that was a shocker. Quaid stood up for me? To Brad? The night was getting weirder and weirder. Not that Quaid and I hated each other or anything, but we definitely shared a complicated relationship.
“Syd?” Brad gestured for me. “Let’s go.”
Quaid never moved and didn’t have to. We both knew I wouldn’t let Brad drive me home without some serious magic to sober him up and neither of us were allowed to do that.
“Go ahead,” I said. “I’ll find my own way home.”
“With Munster here?” Brad’s chest puffed out further, fists clenched at his sides, protective aggression taking over. I knew the alcohol fueled the latent talent within him. See, it wasn’t me he was into, as far as I could tell. The magic called to him, magic he had just a touch of, enough to draw him to me and make him want more. And his very latent talent made him a volatile drinker. At least, when I was around. Best to put some distance between us before things became any worse.
Of course, typical Quaid wasn’t in the mood to leave well enough alone.
“She said she didn’t want your help,” Quaid said in his deep, quiet voice. “Now, go back to your keg and get hammered, loser.”
I winced. I don’t think the loser bit helped much. In fact, I’m confident it was meant to piss Brad off, but who was I to know the mind of Quaid Moromond?
He easily dodged the punch Brad threw at his head and quickly and efficiently, almost gently, put him on the ground.
I was speechless, struggling between walking away from the both of them and taking sides. Unfortunately, we’d attracted some attention. The rest of the partygoers had naturally chosen exactly that moment to look our way. I could almost feel the rumble of anger from the football team through the ground at my feet.
I grabbed Quaid’s arm and turned him toward me.
He actually smiled, eyes alight with some secret joke I was sure he would keep to himself. He usually did.
“What the hell was that?” I hissed at him, trying to ignore the crawl of power leeching from him to me even through the heavy leather of his jacket and the delicious smell of him that clung to me like a promise of something better.
“Like I owe you an answer,” he said. I flinched like he slapped me. My hand fell away. What was his problem?
“You may want to leave,” I told him, furious now. “Before you have to use magic to save your sorry ass.”
The football team drew closer while Brad groaned as he tried to pull himself to his feet. Quaid looked over the advancing line with what looked like eagerness before pushing it down and smothering it with his old sardonic smile, the one that never reached his eyes and made me want to slap it from his face.
“Having fun with your boyfriend?” His chocolate eyes did a great job of judging me.
“Piss off,” I snapped back.
“What the hell are you doing here?” His voice actually had some heat to it and I realized he hid anger behind his smile.
“What’s it to you?”
“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, hanging with these idiots.” Same even tone, same smile, but the fury finally reached his eyes and I couldn’t decide if it was an improvement or not. Even the hint of angry Quaid came across as one scary guy.
“Mind your own damned business.” I let my demon fuel me, despite her preference for Quaid. She was spoiling for something and a fight with him would serve her purposes just as well as anything else.
“Tell me you haven’t been drinking.” Quaid’s voice fell soft, heavy. The coils of his power reached out and touched me, pulling me to him with subtle heat. I pulled back, furious. How dare he!
“And if I have?”
“I know you’re not that stupid.” His power retreated like I hadn’t just knocked it away.
“Screw you, Quaid.”
His expression never changed. “You’re not my type.”
My demon became so worked up I was surprised the power wasn’t visible. I struggled for control and seized it. Barely. And knowing Quaid, this was just another attempt to get me to lose it in public. He was such a jerk sometimes. But I was done playing his little games, uh-huh. Time to end this melodrama for the evening.