Guilt was starting to edge out that warm, fluttery feeling.
“Neil…” Heather sighed, gritting her teeth. Theresa’s voice echoed in her head, ‘Shut up, Heather, and just do it!’ Shit.
This wasn’t just for her, it was for the family, for her mom.
“It’s just a date.” Neil was being persuasive, but he didn’t need to be. He didn’t need to persuade her to kill him — that was just fucked up.
“Okay, I’ll go on a date with you.” Heather was smiling again and she bit her lip, trying to stifle it. She was not going to smile while planning a murder.
“YES!” Neil’s voice burst over the phone, and then they were both laughing. “God, I have no idea why I was so nervous to do this. I’m never nervous.”
“Then why were you?” Heather leaned back against the arm of the couch as their laughter died down.
“I don’t know, you’re different.”
“You have no idea,” she mumbled.
“The witch thing?” Neil asked, still so casual about it.
“It’s not a joke, Neil. I really am.”
“Okay then. You’re a witch. I still want to go on a date with you. How’s tonight?”
Heather muttered a curse. She couldn’t believe this guy. Who in their right mind wouldn’t run away from the crazy twenty-something claiming to be a witch? Apparently Neil, number 21, that’s who. “Tonight is perfect.”
“Great. Do you want to… meet somewhere?” She could imagine Neil smiling the way he had the night before.
“Sure, I’ve got a shift at my aunt’s shop today. There’s a bar about a block from there called Marley’s Pub. They’ve got food and drinks, if that works?” Heather was picking at the lint on her pajama pants, waiting to see if he’d back out.
“Perfect. I’ll look it up and meet you there, does six thirty work?” Neil sounded happy. He sounded like a happy guy.
Heather was a horrible person. A horrible, terrible— “Yeah, six thirty sounds great. I’ll see you then!”
“Today’s going to be a great day, I can feel it. See you tonight, Heather.” The call ended and Heather sighed.
When she went in to work, everyone was going to grill her. She was going to have to describe Neil to the last detail. She was going to have to promise to complete the rite. She was going to have to listen to every little step of the ritual from God knows how many cousins, aunts, and well-meaning obscure relatives.
She was going to be the side-show all day.
* * *
Fuck.
She wasn’t just the side-show, she was the fucking main attraction — because Aunt Marguerite had decided to come to town. The moment her car had pulled up outside, Heather had ducked out the back of the shop, walked half a block and cut across the street to grab a cup of coffee and some sugar coated carbs from the bakery case.
Heather devoured the pastry and was halfway through her coffee when she finally located the internal strength to face the self-proclaimed matriarch of the Pritchetts; Marguerite Evangeline Pritchett. Taking a deep breath she walked out of the café and almost slammed directly into Neil. He caught her by the shoulders before stepping back, his hands dropping away from her.
“Uh, hey!” Neil rubbed the back of his neck, looking around the street before turning back to her. “I just came down here on my lunch break to make sure I knew where this bar was. I’m not, you know, stalking you or anything crazy.”
Heather shook her head. “No, no, I didn’t think anything like that. I was just snagging a coffee.” She tried to smile and his blue eyes were on her face when he smiled back.
“This is weird. I’m really sorry.” Neil sounded nervous again.
“It’s fine. I’m looking forward to tonight, not planning on cancelling or anything, I swear.” That made his smile more vibrant, those dimples appearing in his cheeks. He was cute, hot even. He wore a peacoat and a dark gray scarf that made his blue eyes pop— ‘He looks like he’s dressed for a funeral.’ Her mind added, clearly wanting to ruin the moment.
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.
“Good, I don’t want to cancel either. So, you work around here?” He scanned the storefronts nearby.
She pointed past him. “Cambridge Herb & Tea, Co. It’s behind you, and I’ve gotta get back.” Heather shrugged and tried to finish her coffee so she could toss it, but Neil turned around with a mischievous grin.
“Let me walk you back.”
She almost choked on her coffee. “Uh, no. No, that’s really not necessary. Trust me.”
He laughed. “Now who’s nervous? What would be so bad about me walking you to work? I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”
“You know how you said you don’t have any weird family issues?” He nodded. “Well, all I have are weird family issues, and that shop is crammed full of my family right now, and you really don’t want to meet them.”
“Oh no, now I really want to walk you to work. Come on.” Neil grinned and grabbed her hand, tugging her towards the shop. She tried to pull back on his grip but he had her moving through the other lunchtime pedestrians as they inched closer and closer to her aunt’s shop.
“Neil, really, you don’t want to meet them.” She pulled on his hand, but his grip tightened almost painfully before he relaxed it again.
“It’s not going to scare me off, whatever it is.” After a few moments they were in front of the shop and he was opening the door to walk in. Heather’s heart was beating so fast it seemed to be tripping over itself behind her ribs. She felt nauseous and dizzy and wanted to run, but he wasn’t letting go of her hand.
“Heather!” Bonnie’s voice called out from behind the register. She flipped up a part of the counter and walked towards her with a big grin, but those blue eyes were trained completely on Neil. Heather suddenly had the urge to push Neil behind her. More Pritchett women were turning towards them. It was like she’d dropped a carcass in front of a pride of lions. “Oooo, now who’s this?”
“I’m Neil.” He grinned, all kinds of charming as he waved at Bonnie. “So, are you a witch too?”
The shock on Bonnie’s face was totally worth the fallout that would come from this. “What?!” She screeched, her glare turning on Heather in an instant. “Heather!”
“Hey, it’s okay! I don’t care if you guys are a tribe, or a coven, or whatever. I’ve got a date with Heather tonight.” Neil was still smiling, and Bonnie was fuming. “So, are you? Or is Heather just special?”
“Heather is an idiot.” Bonnie turned back to Neil with a smile. Of all the days that Bonnie couldn’t screw with her, this was the one. They needed her to do the rite, which meant not messing with her. “But yeah, I’m a witch.”
“Neat. So that’s what all the herbs are for?” Neil was looking around the shop at the shelves of tea tins, and glass bottles of potions cleverly disguised as pre-bottled teas. There were things that helped with fertility, depression, stamina, weight loss, and clear skin. Unlike most of the bullshit in vitamin shops across the planet, the things you could buy at Cambridge Herb & Tea, Co. actually worked.
“I don’t make the teas, but yes, some of our family can work with herbs.” Bonnie was gritting her teeth as she spoke, clearly irritated. The audience behind the counter was in shock. Heather had told an outsider the truth. Even worse, she’d told one who was marked for the rite. The rule had always been that a Pritchett could only tell the one she planned to live her life with. After at least three daughters. And only with the approval of the family.
Heather was kind of happy that the family couldn’t do or say anything today, because today was the day she completed the rite. No locking Heather in an illusion, no levitating her off the floor and leaving her there to think about what she’d done. Today, Heather had a free pass.
She smiled at everyone as they gawked at her.
“If you don’t make the teas, what do you do?” Neil tilted his head as he stared at Bonnie.
“I’m an elemental witch.”
�
��Oh, so, you’re like the chemist of the family. Periodic table and all that. I remember taking chemistry in college, I was kind of shit at it, but that’s cool. You must be smart.” He looked sincere, and that’s why Heather started laughing. The insulted look on Bonnie’s face only made her laugh harder until she was doubled over. Tisha was covering her mouth to hide her own mirth behind the counter, and soon half the family was giggling.
“Not chemistry, you idiot!” Bonnie dug a lighter out of her back pocket, flicked it and then lifted her other hand. The flame bowed towards her hand and then grew until it was a small fire floating an inch above her palm. Bonnie’s face was brightly lit by it as she put the lighter away. She couldn’t create fire, or water, from nothing, but once it was there she could control it. Neil’s eyes widened as she held it forward, leaving her palm a few inches in front of him. To Neil’s credit he didn’t even lean back, there wasn’t a single fear response from him.
“Whoa. So you meant you can control elements? That’s cool.”
“Cool? Are you kidding me?!” Bonnie closed her hand over the fire and it disappeared. She turned around, exasperated, looking to the cousins for help.
“I can create illusions! Make you see anything I want you to.” Tisha was trying to sound seductive, but instead she just seemed desperate.
“I’m the one that makes the potions! I know you asked about it, a lot of them are mine. But Heather’s mom is the one that grows the herbs for us.” Wendy smiled, pushing her hair behind her ears.
Was her family seriously trying to flirt with Neil? Heather rolled her eyes.
“What can you do, Heather?” He slipped his hand into hers, his thumb tracing across the back of her hand. The whole room froze. She wasn’t laughing anymore, and the urge to run into traffic was back with a vengeance. Since when had she developed such suicidal tendencies? Maybe she should grab a bottle of the anti-depressant stuff. His blue eyes traced her face. He was accepting everything so casually, but she couldn’t tell him about her.
“Heather. I need to speak with you immediately.” Marguerite’s voice, cold and powerful, came from the doorway to the back. “You weren’t here when I arrived, and I flew all the way here to see you specifically. I’d appreciate not having to wait any longer.”
Neil’s grip tightened on her hand and she kind of wanted to throw up.
“You can leave, Neil. I understand you two have a date planned later and Heather will be there. For now, she has family business to deal with.” Marguerite pointed at the door, and Carol raised her hand so that it opened behind him, letting in a blast of cold air. The aunts had spoken. She silently pleaded with Neil not to argue.
“Right, yeah.” He let go of her hand and pulled his scarf up his neck a bit. “I’ll see you tonight, Heather.”
“Yes, tonight.” Heather watched as Neil gave everyone a more subdued smile and stepped out of the shop. Carol shut the door behind him with a flick of her hand. Then everyone started yelling at once.
“What the fuck, Heather?” Bonnie shouted.
“Are you doing him tonight?” Tisha was grinning.
“Can you believe he was so calm?” Wendy laughed.
“He’s really cute!” Jenny stood up from behind the counter, holding an armful of sage, smiling broadly. For a moment Heather was grateful Jenny had stayed quiet. If she had decided to talk about her ability to brainwash people with a touch, that might have been the last thing Neil could take.
“Quiet. Everyone back to work. Heather, in the office. Now.” Marguerite turned and walked into the back, and Heather followed. When she was inside she shut the door, wanting to block out the gathering of Pritchetts that had suddenly found a reason to go into the stock room.
“Aunt Marguerite.” Heather crossed her arms and leaned against the door. It was the second time in two days she’d been trapped in this office with a control-freak aunt. Only this time it was the head control-freak aunt.
“So you told him you’re a witch?” Marguerite arched an eyebrow.
“It just came out. He obviously doesn’t care, and it won’t be a problem soon enough.” Heather was staring at the floor.
“You’re such a child.” Her aunt spoke softly and then shooed her back from the door, pressing a hand to it before fading until she was almost transparent and then she leaned through it. Marguerite’s voice echoed from the other side, “Back to the front! All of you!”
Heather rolled her eyes as her aunt pulled out from the wooden door, returning to a solid shape like something from one of those cheap sci-fi movies. When she’d been little, it had been amazing, now it was just an annoying and unnecessary display of power. “They just want to listen to you yell at me about Neil.”
“I have no need to yell, I just want to make something clear, Heather.” Marguerite crossed her legs as she sat on the edge of the desk. Her neat suit made her look like she’d fallen out of some high-end executive clothing catalogue. “You will go out on a date with that man, you will be whatever he wants, you will flirt, you will kiss him, you will convince him to go home with you. There, you will offer to give him a massage, you will light the candles, you will draw the rune in oil on his skin, and you will take him to bed. Then you will call for our benefactor, she will come, and the rite will be over. After that, I don’t care what you do. Kick him out, let him sleep in your bed, make him breakfast in the morning to assuage your guilt. I. Don’t. Care. But if you fuck this up again, if you refuse to complete the rite again?”
Heather couldn’t look at Marguerite as she felt a heavy feeling settle in her stomach. She was a butterfly pinned to a board, nothing more than a plaything, a chess piece on a board to her aunt.
“I will not let it go this time. I will take you with me on the night of the new moon, and I will bleed you out in the woods, and offer you up to the great Valkyrie who made this family what it is. You and your pathetic, weak-willed tendencies will not destroy this family. Do you understand?” Marguerite stared at her, and Heather’s mouth went dry. It was the first time anyone in the family had said it clearly. Had threatened her with no pretty language to hide exactly what they meant. There was no sugar-coating, no pleading, no cajoling. Just a clear threat, and the earnest willingness to follow through on it.
Heather had no doubt that Marguerite would drag her into the woods, maybe have Jenny brainwash her, or Katy or Carol levitate her so she couldn’t fight, and then her aunt would slit her throat and offer up her blood to Herja.
“I understand, Aunt Marguerite,” Heather whispered.
“Good. Finish your shift. Make sure you don’t leave the kit Carol and Wendy painstakingly put together for you, and enjoy your evening. He’s attractive; he looks strong, like he has some stamina. You’ll enjoy yourself.” Marguerite grabbed her purse off the desk and stood. Heather felt a tremor move through her muscles, but she was frozen as her aunt took a step towards the door.
“I’m sure I will.”
“Don’t disappoint me, Heather. I don’t want to have to tell Patrice she’s lost a daughter.” Marguerite went to touch her shoulder, but Heather jerked out of the way to avoid it. For a moment Marguerite just stared at her, but then she pulled her hand back, faded, and walked through the office door. When she was gone Heather slid to the floor, but she didn’t cry this time.
She didn’t have anything left in her.
Chapter Five
A few hours later, after a few pre-game shots of vodka with Theresa, Heather was in Marley’s Pub, sitting next to a very attractive, very funny Neil. They had ordered a few appetizers and were snacking between drinks and chatting as if they were old friends. It was strangely easy, comfortable. She’d learned that Neil liked to play flag football on the weekends, that he’d gotten so used to seeing weird shit in foster care and in the army that nothing really fazed him anymore. Supposedly, that was why he didn’t care whether or not magic was real, and why she’d failed to scare him off at speed-dating.
As they hung out she told him that her life con
sisted of working at the shop, dealing with family drama, and whenever she remembered to go for a run, she usually did. Or she ate a bowl of popcorn. It was a toss-up. They had laughed, and ordered more drinks, and he had held her hand for the last thirty minutes as they talked. His thumb rhythmically moving across the back of her hand in a hypnotizing pattern.
“I’m sorry again about today. My family is… intense.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, and shrugged. She didn’t know why she kept trying to apologize for them when what she really wanted to apologize for was what she had planned.
“I told you it wasn’t going to scare me off, and it didn’t. In fact, you’re only more interesting because of it. Also, you’re absolutely gorgeous, and that gives you a lot of lee-way on the crazy family front.” He smiled at her, laughed, and then he leaned forward and kissed her. For a moment she was surprised, but his lips were warm, and he smelled really good, and he kissed even better. His hand slid into her hair and he tilted her head so he could deepen the kiss. After a moment his tongue found hers and she tasted the rum and coke he’d been drinking. It was sweet, and then he nipped her bottom lip as he pulled back. That wasn’t sweet. That had a lot of promise in it, and she shifted on the seat as arousal flared inside her, but it cooled with the memory of her aunt’s commands.
You will flirt, you will kiss him, you will convince him to go home with you.
“We should leave,” she whispered, still close to his mouth. The white noise of the bar made her feel like they were cocooned, able to hear only each other. He grinned at her, his bravado returning, but she liked it. She liked confident guys, she liked the way they took charge — and she hated that her plan was to snuff him out like a candle.
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