by Kristin Cast
He patted her back. “No problem. Anything for Hunter and you.”
She was going to hug Emily, too, but her friend had already plopped her butt down on their wide porch swing. She looked up from her phone. “I texted Dad. He said he had some stuff to do downtown and then he’ll be by to get me.”
“Well, hey, I could wait for Emily’s dad and get a ride with him. Right, Em?” Kirk sent her friend a hopeful look, which Emily completely ignored.
Mercy sighed. She really liked Kirk, and he was being a sweetheart, but his persistence could be exhausting. She’d opened her mouth to repeat herself when Xena, in cat form, padded through the open door and across the porch. She arched her long, sleek back, slitted her eyes at Kirk, and let loose a terrifying group of sounds.
“Hiiiiiisss, mEEEwr, hiiiiiisss!”
“Shit! That cat is huge!” Kirk backed down the porch stairs after Jax. “Okay, I’m going.”
“Sorry, Xena doesn’t really like many people,” Mercy said while Hunter covered a laugh with a cough.
“I thought that was your aunt’s name,” said Kirk, still backing down the sidewalk.
“She doesn’t like many people, either,” said Hunter.
Kirk’s forehead wrinkled in confusion.
“Dude, come on! I’m not getting grounded because of you,” Jax called as he opened his car door.
Kirk waved and grinned at Mercy before rounding on Jax. “You’re such a wuss sometimes…” His words faded away as he climbed into the passenger side of Jax’s car, which took off before he’d completely closed the door.
“Don’t say it,” Mercy said as she sat beside Emily.
Em put her phone down and shrugged. “Hey, I’m just happy you feel better.”
“Yeah, me too,” said Hunter. “I’m gonna go get my grimoire. I want to document that grief spell.” She started to walk past Mercy and into the house, but Mercy reached out and snagged her wrist.
“Hey. Thank you. What you did tonight—it was…” She had to pause and swallow back her tears before continuing in a small, soft voice. “Mom would be so proud of you.”
Hunter’s smile was like the stars. “You really think so?”
“I know so. Thanks, H. You’re the best.”
Emily sneezed violently as Xena wound around her legs. “OMG, your cat is trying to kill me again!”
Mercy shared a knowing look with her sister as she said, “Xena, give Em a break. We know you really do like her.”
Emily sniffed and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. “Likes me dead!” Then she cocked her head and studied the big Maine coon as if seeing her for the first time. “Hey, I just noticed she and your Aunt Xena have, like, the same hair.”
“Impossible,” Hunter said as she headed into the house. “Xena has fur. Our aunt has hair. But come on, Xena. There’s a bowl of cream with your name on it in the kitchen. Good watchcat—good watchcat.” Chattering happily, Xena trotted after Hunter, who paused in the doorway and looked back at Mercy. “You’re the best, too. I’m glad you’re back.” Xena yowled and Hunter rolled her eyes. “Okay, I said I’d get you some cream. Sheesh. You’re so demanding…” Her voice trailed off as she marched inside and headed to the kitchen.
“Aww, twin love gives me a big, warm feeling in my cold, dead heart,” said Emily. Then her eyes went huge. “Oh. Shit. Sorry. I—”
Mercy bumped her shoulder. “Stop. You can’t tiptoe around me and worry about everything you say. If you do—if everyone does—we’ll never find our new normal.”
Emily sighed in relief and brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear as she cocked her head and studied Mercy. “You are better, aren’t you?”
She hadn’t phrased it like a question, but Mercy nodded. “Yeah. I’m still sad. I miss Abigail so much that my heart feels weird and heavy, but before the spell I couldn’t make my mind work. It was like I was trying to think through mud. No, not mud. Fog. My brain was all foggy. I couldn’t concentrate. All I wanted to do was cry or sleep—or both. What you guys did made the fog lift.”
“And now you can start feeling better?” Emily asked tentatively.
Mercy let out a long breath. “Yeah. Before I couldn’t see through my grief to any future. Now I know Hunter and I will have a future. It’ll be different than we ever imagined it would be, but at least now I can start imagining it.”
Mercy pushed against the porch with her feet and the swing glided back and forth gently, soothingly, as they gazed up at the starry night sky. They didn’t speak, but Emily reached over and covered Mercy’s hand with her own and Mercy felt her friend’s love and support flow into her.
Hunter reappeared holding a tray laden with one of their mom’s many tea sets, her thick grimoire tucked under her arm. “Thought we could all use some lavender and chamomile tea.”
“Great idea, H!” Mercy took the tray from her sister and put it on the wicker table that sat between the swing and the wooden rockers that were often filled with friends or Abigail’s customers. Mercy spooned honey into three delicate cups before pouring the fragrant tea and passing the cups to her sister and her best friend.
Between careful sips Emily said, “Hey, um, I wanted to tell you two how cool that was.”
“That?” Hunter peered up from writing in her book of spells.
Emily jerked her chin at the grimoire. “That. The spell thing you did tonight.”
Hunter lifted one shoulder. “We did it. The five of us.”
“But you were the witch that led us,” said Mercy. “And you made the spell up yourself, didn’t you?”
Hunter’s cheeks flushed pink. “I didn’t have time to go through all the spell books to find exactly what we needed, so I had to.”
“It was perfect, H. Really,” said Mercy.
Hunter met her twin’s gaze. “You can be you again now.”
“I can be me again now,” Mercy repeated.
“You know, I forget that you two can do actual magic,” said Emily.
“Well, it’s not like we go around bippity-boppity-booing all the time,” said Mercy.
“But you could, right? I mean, it’d be super cool if you did.” Emily peered, owllike, from one twin to the other.
“An ye harm none, do what ye will.” Hunter spoke the words reverently.
Mercy shared a knowing look with her sister. “Which means, Em, that what you think is super cool would make a lot of people really uncomfortable, so we don’t do it.”
“Like Kirk was tonight,” Hunter added.
Mercy felt a jolt of surprise. “Kirk? What do you mean? He seemed fine.”
Emily snorted.
“Okay, what happened?” Mercy insisted as she looked from her best friend to her sister.
Emily stirred her tea, letting the spoon clink against the porcelain cup. “He kinda freaked. Before, when Hunter was getting us ready. Setting our intention. Is that the right word?”
Mercy and Hunter nodded together. “Yeah, that’s what it’s called,” said Mercy. “Setting the intention of a spell or a ritual is one of the most important aspects of magic.” She met her twin’s gaze. “What’d he do?”
“He didn’t really do anything. He was just weird about the whole real magic-ness of it all. I needed him to be one hundred percent, and I wasn’t sure he’d commit.” Hunter shrugged nonchalantly and shifted her gaze to her spell book.
Mercy looked at her sister, who was writing in her grimoire and wouldn’t meet her eyes. She sighed. “I’m sorry about that, H.”
Still not looking up from her spell book, Hunter said, “The important part is that he didn’t mess up the spell.”
“No, the important part is that you included him,” Mercy said, and Hunter finally met her gaze. “Thanks. Even though Kirk can be a pain in the ass—thanks.”
“No problem,” her sister said.
Emily pushed her feet against the porch so that the swing continued to glide back and forth. “I guess it’s actually not too surprising Kirk was uncomfortable.
”
“How so?” asked Mercy, draping an arm over the back of the swing as she blew across the amber colored surface of her steaming tea.
“Well, Kirk hasn’t been hanging around you two for long. I mean, I’ve known you guys since we were practically in diapers. I’m used to the fact that you’re witches, but even I was shocked by how for real magical that spell was.”
“Oh, please.” Hunter’s face was turned down to her grimoire again. “Practically everyone who lives in Goodeville knows we’re witches.”
“Knowing and seeing are two way different things,” said Emily.
“I’ll talk to Kirk, but he seemed okay when he left,” said Mercy.
“Yeah, be sure he doesn’t get the pitchforks and torches out,” muttered Hunter.
Mercy frowned at her sister. “Why wasn’t Jax freaked out? His parents are uber-religious.”
Hunter shook her head. “His mother is. She’s super Protestant. Her family has lived here since the beginning of Goodeville. He’s a lot cooler, plus, we’ve known Jax for a million years; he accepts us. You don’t need to worry about him freaking.” Hunter brushed her ponytail off her shoulder. “But Kirk was never fully into the spell or okay with it, and we don’t need the stress he could cause by telling people our business.”
“Don’t worry about Kirk. I’ll take care of him,” said Mercy.
Emily cleared her throat loudly, causing both girls to shift their attention to her.
“I just want to officially let you know that if you need any other help with spell stuff or ritual whatchamacallit, I’m your girl. I wasn’t freaked. I thought it was amazing.”
“Your energy is really good,” Hunter said.
Mercy nodded. “That helped the spell’s success.”
Emily grinned. “Can I pretend to almost be a witch?”
From just inside the open door Xena yowled.
Emily’s grin faded. “Never mind. She already wants to kill me. I’ll just leave it as I’ll be a substitute witch whenever you need one.”
“Deal,” said the twins together.
Hunter caught her sister’s gaze and smiled—really smiled—at her for the first time since the night before and a little more of the grief that had cocooned around Mercy’s heart loosened.
“I’m hungry!” Mercy said. “Em, do you think we have time to order pizza before your dad gets here?”
“How ’bout I text him and tell him I’m staying the night? Mom’s still home until midweek and since Dad’s leaving for his conference tomorrow they’re spending every second getting their fight on.” She paused and shuddered. “I’d way rather stay here. Can I borrow something to wear to school tomorrow?” Em froze mid-text. “Wait, are you going to school tomorrow?”
Mercy met Hunter’s gaze. “What do you think, H?”
“I think people will probably treat us like freaks whenever we go back.”
Mercy nodded. “Then let’s do it like a Band-Aid, just get it over with.” She turned to her bestie. “Yeah, we’re going to school tomorrow. Text your dad and then we’ll order that pizza and—”
The sheriff’s car pulled into their driveway, cutting off Mercy’s words. She sighed and her shoulders slumped. “Not again. Do we have to keep going over and over this with them?”
Hunter sat straight up. She snapped her grimoire shut and put it aside. “No. No, we do not. They need to leave us alone.”
“Maybe you should wake up your aunt,” said Emily. “She can tell them to get lost.”
“Good idea,” said Hunter as she stood. “Mag, I’ll go get Auntie. Tell them that she’ll be out in a sec.”
The car door closed and Deputy Carter slowly headed up the driveway, gravel crunching under his steel-toed boots.
“At least it’s just the deputy.” Mercy kept her voice low. “The sheriff was kinda creepy this morning.”
“Seriously,” said Hunter as she hurried inside the house.
Mercy thought Deputy Carter looked unusually pale as he climbed the porch steps and took off his hat. Dark circles made his otherwise puppyish eyes look bruised and old.
“Evening, Miss Goode.” He nodded at Mercy.
“I’m Mercy.” She was used to supplying her name to people who couldn’t seem to ever tell the two of them apart.
But the deputy had already turned his attention to Emily. “Emily, I’m going to need you to come with me.”
Emily put her teacup down on the table, but she didn’t move to get off the swing. “Why? Dad’s supposed to be here in a little while. Actually, I was just texting him. I’m gonna stay the night with Mercy and Hunter.” Then she paused and shook her head. “Wait, I don’t get it. Dad sent you here? He said he had stuff to do in town. Was he at the police station? But why would he send you here?”
The deputy swallowed so hard that his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Your father didn’t send me, but you need to come with me.”
As Emily started to stand Mercy covered her hand and kept her in place on the swing. “Why? What’s going on?” she asked the deputy.
His eyes flicked between Mercy and Emily, coming to rest on Em. He cleared his throat again and picked at the brim of his hat with nervous fingers. “There’s been an accident. Sorry, this is…” He paused, swallowed again, and started over. “Emily, your father is dead.”
Through their joined hands Mercy felt the jolt that rocked her friend. Emily’s breath rushed from her body in a terrible gasp and she began shaking her head back and forth, back and forth.
“Dead? What are you talking about? How? It has to be some kind of mix-up or mistake.” Mercy gripped Em’s hand.
The deputy turned his somber gray eyes to her. “There was an accident.”
“No. No. That’s impossible.” Em spoke softly.
Mercy squeezed her hand tightly. “Like a car accident?”
Deputy Carter’s gaze flitted away as he said, “Um. Not exactly. Emily, let’s get you home to your mom. She’ll explain everything to you.”
“No!” The word burst from Emily.
“If it wasn’t a car accident, what kind of accident was it?” Mercy felt like her brain was on fire. First Abigail and now Em’s dad? How? Why?
“Emily, let’s get you home,” he repeated as he shifted from foot to foot, not meeting the gaze of either girl.
“No.” Emily stood, abruptly letting go of Mercy’s hand. She faced the deputy and wrapped her arms around herself. “No! No! NO!” Her voice grew louder and more hysterical as she continued.
Mercy stood and put her arm around her friend. Emily’s body was trembling like she might fly apart into a million little pieces—a feeling Mercy understood all too well. She held on to Em tightly as she shouted into the house. “Hunter! Xena! We need you!”
The deputy started forward, like he was going to help Emily from the porch. Em cringed back.
“Get away!” she screamed between soul-wracking sobs. “Don’t—touch—me!”
Hunter and Xena spilled from the doorway. “What is happening out here?” Xena asked.
“There’s been an, um, accident,” the deputy said quickly. “Emily’s father has been killed. I came to take her home to her mother.”
Xena gasped. “Oh, kitten!” She brushed past the deputy imperiously to enfold Emily within her arms as the girl clung to her and wept.
Hunter joined Mercy. They faced the deputy—blocking Emily with a wall of their love. Mercy and Hunter joined hands.
“You said, ‘um, accident,’ and then used the word killed,” said Hunter. “Which was it—an accident or a murder?”
Mercy’s stomach roiled and she swallowed down bile. She knew what the deputy was going to say before he spoke.
“It, um, was a murder. Look, I am truly sorry, but Emily’s mother needs her, and I have to get her home.”
Emily suddenly sneezed—once, twice, three times. From the deep pocket of Abigail Goode’s soft bathrobe Xena pulled out a handful of old tissues, which Em took and tried to wipe her face, but
her hands were shaking too hard.
Carefully, Xena took the tissues from her and dabbed at her cheeks, though it was impossible to stop Emily’s tide of tears. “Oh, kitten … poor little kitten,” Xena murmured as she smoothed back the girl’s hair.
“Is it really true?” Emily stared at the deputy, and then she looked from him to the twins. “How can it be true?” Before anyone answered, Emily’s legs wobbled and she collapsed.
Xena caught her first, and then Mercy and Hunter were there, too. They lifted her, steadied her—loved her.
“We’re here, Em. We’re here,” Mercy said as she hooked her arm around her best friend’s slim waist.
The deputy picked at his hat helplessly and repeated, “I really am sorry.”
Emily was sandwiched between Mercy and Hunter—while Xena stood behind her, stroking her back and murmuring softly.
“What can we do, Em? What do you need?” Mercy asked as she wiped at her face.
Emily turned her head slowly to meet Mercy’s gaze. She was no longer sobbing, but silent tears poured down her smooth, fawn cheeks to soak her shirt. “I need my daddy.” Then her face broke and she leaned heavily against Mercy as waves of shudders cascaded through her body.
“Emily—Miss Parrott,” the deputy stuttered. “Sh-should I call your mother? Should I go get her and bring her here?”
His words seemed to give Emily strength. She looked up at him. “Mom needs me.”
The deputy nodded urgently. “Yes, yes, she does.”
Emily drew a deep breath and stood up straight, like her spine had turned to steel. “I’ll go. Mom does need me.”
“Em, do you want us to—” Mercy began.
Emily turned to her and hugged her tightly. “I have to go to Mom.”
“Kittens, help our Emily to the car,” Xena told the girls.
Slowly, with Mercy on one side of her and Hunter on the other, the twins guided Emily to the deputy’s car and gently helped her into the passenger’s seat. The deputy slid behind the wheel and silently handed a box of tissues to Emily. When she made no move to take them, even though tears still washed her face, he put them in her lap. Emily looked up at the twins.