by L. J. Smith
“And he’s so cute,” Selene murmured. “He’s so shy with girls—he can hardly talk around them. None of us have gotten anywhere with him.”
“That’s because you used the wrong methods,” Blaise said, and her eyes were very smoky.
Thea’s insides seemed hollow and there was a circlet of pain around her head. She did the only thing she could think of.
“Blaise,” she said. She looked her cousin directly in the face, making an open appeal. “Blaise, listen. I hardly ever ask anything of you, right? But now I’m asking something. I want you to leave Eric alone. Can you do that—for me? For the sake of Unity?”
Blaise blinked slowly. She took a long drink of iced tea. “Why, Thea, you’re getting all worked up.”
“I am not.”
“I didn’t know you cared.”
“I don’t. I mean—of course I don’t care about him. But I’m worried about you, about all of us. I think…” Thea hadn’t meant to say this, but she found the words spilling out anyway. “I think he might have some suspicions about us. This morning he told me that I seemed so different from other girls….” She managed to stop herself before she mentioned that he’d guessed she had healed him. That would be incredibly dangerous, especially since she didn’t know who Vivienne or Selene might blab to.
Blaise’s pupils were large. “You mean—you think he’s a psychic?”
“No, no.” She knew he wasn’t a psychic. She’d been inside his mind, and he wasn’t from any lost witch family. He didn’t have any powers. He was as much a human as that snake had been a snake.
“Well, then,” Blaise said. She chuckled, a rich, rippling sound. “He just thinks you’re different—and that’s hardly something to worry about. We want them to think we’re different.”
She didn’t understand. And Thea couldn’t explain. Not without getting herself into very hot water.
“So, if you don’t mind, we’ll just consider my claim staked,” Blaise said courteously. “Now, let’s see, what to do with the boys at the dance. First, I think we need to spill their blood.”
“Spill what?” Dani said, sitting up.
“Just a little blood,” Blaise told her absently. “It’s going to be absolutely vital for some of the spells we’ll want to do later.”
“Well, good luck,” Dani said. “Humans don’t like blood—they’re going to run like bunnies from you after that.”
Blaise regarded her with a half-smile. “I don’t think so,” she said. “You don’t understand this business yet. If it’s done right, they don’t run. They’re scared; they’re shocked; and they just keep coming back for more.”
Dani looked shocked herself—and still fascinated. “But why do you want to hurt them?”
“We’re just doing what comes naturally,” Blaise purred.
I don’t care, Thea thought, it’s none of my business.
She heard herself say, “No.”
She was staring at a pile of squashed napkins in her hand. Out of the comer of her eye she could see Blaise’s exasperated expression. The others might not know what Thea was saying no to, but Blaise always understood her cousin.
“I asked you before if you wanted him,” Blaise said. “And you said you didn’t. So now you’re changing your mind? You’re going to play him?”
Thea stared at her wad of napkins. What could she say? I can’t because I’m scared? I can’t because something happened between him and me this morning and I don’t know what it was? I can’t because if I keep seeing him I have this feeling I might break the law, and I don’t mean the one about never telling humans that we exist; I mean the other one, the one about never falling in love….
Don’t be ridiculous.
That sort of thing is out of the question, she told herself. All you want is to keep him from ending up like Randy Marik. And you can do that without getting involved.
“I’m saying I want him,” she said out loud.
“You’re going to play him?”
“I’m going to play him.”
“Well.” Instead of snarling, Blaise laughed. “Well, congratulations. My little cousin is growing up at last.”
“Oh, please.” Thea gave her a look. She and Blaise had been born on two different days—just barely. Blaise had been born one minute before midnight, and Thea one minute after. It was another reason they were so connected—but Thea hated it when Blaise acted older.
Blaise just smiled, her gray eyes glinting. “And, look—there’s lover boy right now,” she said, feigning elaborate surprise. Thea followed her nod and saw a figure with sandy hair and long legs at the other side of the patio.
“What luck,” Blaise said. “Why don’t you just walk over and ask him to the dance?”
CHAPTER 4
At that moment Thea almost hated her cousin.
But there was no choice. Four pairs of eyes were watching her: Blaise’s gray eyes, Vivienne’s emerald green, Selene’s clear blue, and Dani’s velvety dark ones. They were waiting.
Thea got up and began the long walk across the patio.
She felt as if everyone was watching her. She tried to keep her steps measured and confident, her face serene. It wasn’t easy. The closer she got to that sandy hair, the more she wanted to turn and run. She had tunnel vision now: everything on the sides was a blur; the only clear thing was Eric’s profile.
Just as she got within earshot, he glanced up and saw her coming.
He looked startled. For a moment his eyes met hers: a deeper green than Vivienne’s, more intense and more innocent.
Then, without a word, he turned away and walked quickly down a path between two buildings. He was gone before Thea knew what was happening.
She stood rooted to the ground. There was a huge amount of empty space inside her, with only her uncomfortably pounding heart trying to fill it.
Okay; he hates me. I don’t blame him. Maybe it’s good; maybe Blaise will say we can all forget him now.
But when she went back to the shady table, Blaise was frowning thoughtfully.
“You just don’t have the technique yet,” she said. “Never mind. I can coach you.”
“Viv and I can help, too,” Selene murmured. “You’ll learn fast.”
“No—thank you,” Thea said. Her pride was hurt and her cheeks were on fire. “I can do it myself. Tomorrow. I have a plan already.”
Dani squeezed her hand under the table. “You’ll do fine.”
Blaise said, “Just make sure it’s tomorrow. Or I might think you don’t really want him.”
And then, to Thea’s immense relief, the bell rang.
“Hawthorne, yarrow, angelica…” Thea peered through the thick blue glass of an unlabeled jar. “Some kind of nasty powder…”
She was in the front room of her grandmother’s shop, deserted now because it was closed for the evening. Just being with all these herbs and gems and amulets gave her a feeling of comfort. Of control.
I love this place, she thought, looking around at the floor-to-ceiling shelves of bottles and boxes and dusty vials. One whole wall was devoted to trays of stones—unpolished and polished, rare and semiprecious, some with symbols or words of power engraved on them, some dirty and fresh from the earth. Thea liked putting her hands in them and murmuring their names: tourmaline, amethyst, honey topaz, white jade.
And then there were the good-smelling herbs: everything you needed to cure indigestion or to call a lover; to soothe arthritis or to curse your landlord. Some of these—the simples—worked whether you were a witch or not. They were just natural remedies, and Gran even sold them to humans. But the real spells required both arcane knowledge and psychic power, and no human could make them active.
Thea was whipping up a real spell.
First, heartsease. That was good for any love charm. Thea opened a canister and fingered the dried purple and yellow flowers gently. Then she dropped a handful of them into a fine mesh bag.
What else? Rose petals were a given. She unstopped a large
ceramic jar and got a whiff of sweetness as she sprinkled them in.
Chamomile, yes. Rosemary, yes. Lavender…she twisted the cork out of a small vial of lavender essence. She could use some of that right this minute. She mixed it in her palm with a teaspoon of jojoba oil, then dabbed the fragrant liquid on her temples and at the back of her neck.
Blood, flow! Headache, go!
The tension in her neck started to ease almost instantly. She took a long breath and looked around.
Some bones of the earth would help. Rose quartz carved in the shape of a heart for attraction. A lump of raw amber for charm. Oh, and throw in a lodestone for magnetism and a couple of small garnets for fire.
It was done. Tomorrow morning she’d take a bath, letting this giant tea bag infuse the water while she burned a circle of red candles. She’d soak in the potent mixture, letting the smell of it, the essence of it, seep into her skin. And when she got out, she’d be irresistible.
She was about to walk away when a leather pouch caught her eye.
No. Not that, she told herself. You’ve got a mixture here to promote interest and affection. It’s plenty strong enough just to get him to listen to you.
You don’t want anything stronger.
But she found herself picking up the soft pouch anyway. Opening it, just to look inside.
It was full of reddish-brown chips, each about the size of a thumbnail with a woody, aromatic smell.
Yemonja root. Guaranteed to draw an unwilling heart. But usually forbidden to maidens.
Recklessly, not letting herself think about it, Thea transferred half a dozen chips to her mesh bag. Then she put the worn leather pouch back on its shelf.
“Figured it out yet?” a voice behind her said.
Thea whirled. Gran was standing at the foot of the narrow stairway that led to the apartment above the store.
“Uh—what?” She held the mesh bag behind her back.
“Your specialty. Herbs, stones, amulets…I hope you’re not going to be one of those chanting girls. I hate that whiny music.”
Thea loved the music. In fact, she loved all the things Gran had mentioned—but she loved animals even better. And there wasn’t much of a place for animals in witch life, not since familiars had been outlawed during the Burning Times.
You could use bits of animals, sure. Lizard foot and nightingale tongue. Blaise was always trying to get hold of Thea’s animals for just that purpose, and Thea was always fighting her off.
“I don’t know, Gran,” she said. “I’m still thinking.”
“Well, you’ve got time—but not too much,” her grandmother said, walking slowly toward her. Edgith Harman’s face was a mass of creases, she hunched, and she used two canes—but that wasn’t bad for a woman over a hundred who ran her own business and tyrannized every witch in the country.
“Remember, you’ve got some decisions to make when you hit eighteen. You and Blaise are the last of our line. The last two direct descendants of Hellewise. That means you have a responsibility—you have to set an example.”
“I know.” At eighteen, she would have to decide not just her specialty, but which Circle she would join for life: Twilight or Midnight. “I’ll think about it, Gran,” she promised, putting her free arm around the old woman. “I’ve still got six months.”
Gran stroked Thea’s hair with a veined, gentle hand. It chased the last of Thea’s headache away. Still holding the mesh bag behind her back, she said, “Gran? Are you really mad about having us here for the school year?”
“Well, you eat too much and you leave hair in the shower…but I guess I can stand it.” Gran smiled, then frowned. “Just as long as you stay in line until the end of the month.”
There it was again. “But what’s happening at the end of the month?”
Gran gave her a look. “Samhain, of course! All Hallow’s Eve.”
“I know that,” Thea said. Even the humans celebrated Halloween. She wondered if Gran was having one of her vague spells.
“Samhain—and the Inner Circle,” Gran said abruptly. “They’ve picked the desert for their ceremony this year.”
“The desert—you mean here? The Inner Circle is coming here? Mother Cybele and Aradia and all of them?”
“All of them,” Gran said. Suddenly her wrinkles looked grim. “And by Air and Fire, I’m not having them come here just to see you girls screw up. I have a reputation, you know.”
Thea nodded a little dazedly. “I—well, no wonder you were worried. We won’t embarrass you. I promise.”
“Good.”
As Thea discreetly tucked the mesh bag under her arm and started for the stairs, the old woman added, “You’d better toss some plantain into that mix to bind it all together.”
Thea felt herself blushing furiously. “Uh…thanks, Gran,” she said, and went to look for plantain.
Above the shop were two tiny bedrooms and a kitchenette. Grandma had one bedroom and Thea and Blaise shared the other. Tobias, Gran’s apprentice, had been bumped to the workshop downstairs.
Blaise was lying on her bed, reading a thick book with a red cover. Poetry. Despite her frivolous act, she wasn’t stupid.
“Guess what,” Thea said, and without waiting for Blaise to guess, told her about the Inner Circle coming.
She watched to see if the news would scare Blaise—or at least alarm her into good intentions. But Blaise just yawned and stretched like a well-fed cat.
“Good. Maybe we can watch how they summon the ancestors again.” She raised her eyebrows at Thea meaningfully. Two years ago in Vermont, while the human world was trick-or-treating, they’d hidden behind maple trees and spied on the Samhain summoning. They’d seen the elders use the magic of Hecate, the most ancient witch of all, the goddess of moon and night and sorcery, to bring spirits across the veil. For Thea it had been scary but exciting, for Blaise just exciting.
Thea gave up on trying to alarm Blaise.
Thea looked at the three star-shaped blue flowers lying on her palm. Then, one by one, she ate them.
“Now say ‘Ego borago guadia semper ago,’” Selene instructed. “It means, ‘I, borage, always bring courage.’ Old Roman spell.”
Thea muttered the words. For the second day in a row, she was on the patio looking at a sandy head across the room.
“Go get ’im, tiger,” Blaise said. Vivienne and Dani nodded encouragingly. Thea squared her shoulders and started across the room.
As soon as Eric saw her coming, he went down the side path.
You idiot, Thea thought. You don’t know what’s good for you. Maybe I should just let Blaise have you.
But she followed him. He was standing just beyond the buildings, staring into the distance. She could only see his profile, which was nice—clean and somehow lonely.
Thea swallowed, tasting a lingering sweetness from the borage flowers. What to say? She wasn’t used to talking to humans—especially human boys.
I’ll just say “What’s up?” and be casual, she thought. But when she opened her mouth, what came out was, “I’m sorry.”
He turned immediately. He looked startled. “You’re sorry?”
“Yes. I’m sorry I was so mean. What do you think I was following you for?”
Eric blinked—and Thea thought his cheeks colored under his tan. “I thought you were mad because I kept staring at you. I was trying not to get you madder.”
“You were staring at me?” Thea felt a little flushed herself. As if the herbs from her bath were steaming fragrantly out of her skin.
“Well—I kept trying not to. I think I’ve got it down to one look every thirty seconds now.” He said it seriously.
Thea wanted to laugh. “It’s okay. I don’t mind,” she said. Yes, she could definitely smell the love potion now. The heady floral scent of rose and heartsease, plus the spice of yemonja root.
Eric seemed to take her at her word. He was definitely staring. “I’m sorry I acted like such a jerk before. With the snake, I mean. I really wasn’t
trying to feed you a line.”
Alarm whispered through Thea. She didn’t want to think about what had happened in the desert.
“Yes, okay, I know,” she said. He was watching her so intently, his eyes such a deep green. “Well—you see, the reason I wanted to talk to you was…you know, there’s the Homecoming dance this Saturday. So I thought we could maybe go together.”
She remembered at the last instant that in human society boys frequently asked girls to dances. Maybe she’d been too direct.
But he looked—well, extremely pleased. “You’re kidding! You’re serious? You’d go with me?”
Thea just nodded.
“But that’s terrific. I mean—thanks.” He was as excited as a kid at Beltane. Then his face clouded over.
“I forgot, though. I promised Dr. Salinger—that’s my boss at the pet hospital—that I’d spend the night there Saturday. Midnight to eight A.M. Somebody needs to watch the animals that stay overnight, and Dr. Salinger’s going to a conference out of town.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Thea said. “We’ll just go to the dance before midnight.” She was relieved. It meant less time play-acting in front of Blaise.
“It’s a date, then.” He still looked so happy. “And, Thea?” He said the name shyly, as if almost afraid to use it. “Maybe—maybe we could do something else sometime. I mean, we could go out, or you could come over to my house….”
“Uh…” The yemonja smell was really making her dizzy. “Uh…well, this week—I’m trying to get adjusted to the new school and all. But maybe later.”
“Okay. Later.” His smile was unexpected, astonishing. It transformed his face, turning the sweet, serious shyness into charismatic radiance. “If there’s any way I can help, just ask.”
Why, he’s handsome, Thea thought. She felt a sort of tug at her insides, like a bird being charmed out of a tree. She hadn’t realized how attractive he was, or how the gray flecks in his eyes seemed to catch sunlight….
Stop that! she told herself abruptly. This is business, and he’s vermin. She felt a flush of shame at using the word, even in thought. But she had to do something. Without meaning to, she’d moved closer to him, so she was looking up into his face. Now they were only inches apart and she was feeling distinctly giddy.