The Family Tree: The Weight of Magic, Episode 4

by Lana Melyan

  Relax, the Order’s people are still people, and they are probably in bed because they need to sleep too.

  Most of the public places were already closed, but when I walked down the opposite side of Sam’s bar, I threw a glance at the windows of a bar that still had a few lights on. I passed by, but after a few steps I paused. The silhouettes of a man and a woman standing deep inside the narrow room looked familiar.

  Was that Nate?

  My heart hammered. I only took one step back and stopped again. I was afraid to find out if I was right. But after two seconds, I went back and looked through the window.

  The place was empty, and most of the lights were off. The bar was under the right wall. The two of them were on the other end of the counter, and Nate was leaning at it with his back to me. Facing him, Ruby stood with her hands locked around his neck.

  Is she kissing him?

  I froze to the spot, my heart about to jump out of my chest. Her hands moved up his neck, but Nate took her hands and pulled them down. She started shouting at him. I couldn’t hear the words, just the muffled noise. And what was worse, I couldn’t see Nate’s face.

  You shouldn’t be here, I said to myself. But I couldn’t move. I had to know if he had kissed her. You can ask him later. No matter how bad it is, he’ll tell you the truth.

  Or would he?

  Ruby was still talking, only a step away from him. But then she drew closer, stood face to face with him, and ran her hands through his hair.

  She’s not kissing him. Nate wouldn’t let her.

  Ruby bowed her head and pressed her lips to his neck, and with his hands on her waist, Nate drew his face up.

  That’s it, I had seen enough.

  My heart thumping in my chest, I started walking. My head was dizzy, and I couldn’t think. After a moment, I stopped. When I looked around, I wasn’t sure where I was. First I thought to go back to the hotel, and I turned around and started walking again. Then I stopped. No, I was already here, I should get my phone and see if he replied to my message.

  It doesn’t matter now, does it?

  When I was near Sam’s bar, I stopped again and went back to that window. When I looked through it, there was no one there.

  My stomach burned. My magical energy had woken up and was storming through my body. I didn’t think I could control it. Panting, I ran to Sam’s bar. The door was locked, but Sam was still there, standing next to the cashier. I hammered on the glass. He looked up, startled, but the second he saw me, he rushed to unlock the door.

  “You forgot your phone,” he said the moment he opened the door. I stormed in. “Nicky, are you okay?”

  “Do you know how to siphon energy?” I breathed out.

  “Yes.” Sam stared at me. “Did something happen? Nicky, you’re shaking.”

  “Do it. Now,” I said, grabbing his hands.

  Holding my hands, Sam closed his eyes, concentrating. A few seconds later I felt the stream of energy slow down.

  “Better?” asked Sam, opening his eyes.

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  “Nicky, what’s going on? Why are you outside alone at this hour?”

  “I need a drink.”

  “Okay, sure,” said Sam, looking worried. He walked behind the bar. “What do you want?”

  “Something strong,” I said, sitting at one of the tables under the wall. I pushed myself to the end of the seat, leaned against the cold bricks, and stared at the ceiling. I caught the sound of quiet, slow music coming from the bar. It was the Kiss Me song.

  “Nicky, what’s wrong?” asked Sam, putting on the table two tumblers with amber liquid. He sat down across from me.

  I took one of the tumblers and looked into it.

  “It’s Jack,” Sam said.

  “Who’s Jack?”

  “Jack D. . . It’s whisky.”

  I took a gulp.

  “Nicky, is Nate back? Did he say something to you?”

  “Could you give me my phone?”

  He went to the bar and came back, handing me the phone. Nate’s reply was there.

  I’m sorry. This is taking longer than I thought. But I’ll be back soon. Love you.

  My eyes prickled, and I bit my lip trying to stop the tears, but they were already sliding down my face.

  Sam rushed to my side. “Nicky, say something. You’re scaring me.”

  I looked at him, and he put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer. I dropped my head to his chest.

  “I saw them. She was kissing him.”

  Sam sighed. “Nicky, it doesn’t mean . . . She’s . . .”

  He was struggling to find the words, and who could blame him? What can one say in a situation like this? I felt his lips touch my hair, but I knew he was just trying to comfort me.

  “You should wait for him,” said Sam. “Maybe he can explain—”

  “Are you protecting him?” I straightened up and glared at him. “You’re the one who kept telling me he might hurt me.”

  “I’m not protecting him. It’s just, Ruby, she’s—”

  “It doesn’t matter what Ruby is. He could’ve pushed her away,” I said, my lips trembling. “I was waiting for him to push her away, but he didn’t. And when I went back, they were gone. So, where did they go? And who knows what they are doing now?”

  “Exactly, no one knows. Maybe he went to the hotel.”

  “He didn’t come out. They went inside.”

  I picked up my glass and took another gulp.

  “Come here.” Sam hugged me. “Nicky, you’re overreacting.”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw the screen of my phone light up. It was Nate, and I saw his message.

  Where are you?

  I pulled back from Sam and turned the phone upside down.

  “Sam,” I said quietly, “is this how you feel every time Nate kisses me?”

  He put his hands on my face and ran his thumbs over my cheeks, wiping my tears.

  “There’s a difference. You’re not cheating on me and he’s your boyfriend. But, yes, it hurts like hell.”

  I saw it, the pain in his blue eyes. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  He held my face in his hands, his eyes fixed on mine for a moment. Then his gaze slid down to my lips.

  He removed his hands and looked away. Then he grabbed his glass and emptied it in one gulp.

  He wants to kiss me so badly. He’s wanted it for a very long time now. Would it help him if he did?

  After a moment of silence, Sam got up, but before he reached the bar, he came back, dropped down next to me, and put his hands around my neck.

  How would Nate feel if I told him I kissed Sam? How bad would it hurt him? I hope it would hurt as much as I’m hurting now.

  “Let me do it, just this once,” murmured Sam, and his lips reached for mine.

  I didn’t stop him.

  His one hand moved down my back, and as he pressed me closer, his heart knocked into my chest. I put my hand on his shoulder and pushed him back. He pulled away.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, but when he looked at me, his eyes were glowing.

  I wished I felt the same way. I was hoping it would make me feel better, but all I felt was anger. Now I was the one who had cheated. And I was angry with myself. But I didn’t want to ruin Sam’s happiness.

  I took his hand.

  “I’m the one who is sorry. This was my fault.” I smiled. “I got drunk, and I seduced you.”

  My phone kept buzzing. I picked it up. “I better go, before he comes here.”

  “I know he’ll kill me for this,” said Sam. “But I don’t care. He shouldn’t have hurt you like this.”

  7

  Sam walked me to the hotel and said good night.

  When I reached our suite and opened the door, I saw Nate pacing the room, Logan sitting on the couch, and Connie standing next to the desk, staring at some big paper and chanting. When I saw my hairbrush on it, I understood at once that the paper on the table was a map. She was
doing a locator spell.

  They all turned their heads toward me.

  “Nicky?” Nate stopped, staring at me. “Thank God.” He rushed forward.

  I held my hand up, stopping him before he could touch me.

  “Where have you been?” he asked, gazing at me.

  “Nicky, are you okay?” Connie drew closer.

  “Apparently I’m not, because everybody keeps asking me that.” I was still a bit drunk, and I knew Nate could tell.

  “It’s the middle of the night,” he said, a muscle jumping on his jaw. “I was going crazy. Why didn’t you answer my messages?”

  “I forgot my phone at the bar, and I went back to get it.”

  “You said Sam was closing the bar.” Nate looked at Logan.

  “Nicky,” said Logan, “why didn’t you tell me? You shouldn’t have gone alone.”

  “Guys, I’m sorry,” I glanced from Logan to Connie. “I didn’t want to bother you. But that’s exactly what I did, didn’t I?”

  “When?” asked Nate.

  “When what?”

  “When did you go back?”

  “Right after I got to the hotel.”

  “It’s been nearly an hour,” said Logan with concern.

  “Really?” I looked from one to another.

  “Guys,” said Nate, “it’s okay. She’s back now. And I’m sorry for pulling you out of bed.”

  Logan got up.

  “See you tomorrow,” said Connie, squeezing my arm on her way out.

  The moment the door closed behind them, Nate stepped closer. I pushed him away.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  “Nicky, I know you’re angry. What I put you through . . . But I didn’t want her to make a scene.”

  “I understand that. Believe me, I was trying to be okay with the fact that you left me there and walked away with your ex. But then . . . how could you?” My voice shook, and I turned away.

  “How could I what?”

  “No. First I want you to tell me what happened. What did you say to her about me? About us?”

  “She knew about you. But I couldn’t break up with her over the phone. I promised her that when I came to New Orleans, we’d talk. I didn’t expect her to show up like that.”

  “So, how did she take it?” I gazed at him.

  “Pretty hard. She yelled at me and I listened, trying to calm her down. We’d been together for six years. It’s understandable.”

  “So who are you with now? Are you with me, or with her?”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Why are you asking me that? Nicky, have you been drinking with Sam?”

  Oh, I did more than that.

  “Answer my question,” I glared at him.

  “Of course I’m with you. You know that. You’re my everything. How can you doubt me?”

  “Then why the hell did you let her kiss you!” I shouted.

  “Kiss me? Who said she kissed me? Well, she tried, several times. But I didn’t let her.”

  Biting my lip, I shook my head. “Why are you lying to me? I trusted you. I always thought that no matter how bad things were, you’d always tell me the truth.”

  “I am telling you the truth,” he said, getting angry. “She didn’t kiss me.”

  “Nate, I saw it with my own eyes. As I said, I forgot my phone at the bar, and when I went back, I saw you, with her, in another bar. She stood glued to you, and then she kissed your neck, and I couldn’t see your face, but the way you reacted, it seemed you enjoyed it.” He frowned. “I walked away, but when I returned a moment later, the two of you were gone. So I’m asking you again, why would you do this to me, and where did you two go after she kissed you?”

  He was panting with anger now. Pressing his lips together, he nodded a few times.

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “Isn’t it? So what? She was just sniffing you? With her lips?”

  “Nicky . . . She didn’t kiss me. She bit me. She’s a vampire.”

  “She’s a what?” I stared at him

  “Yeah. That’s what she meant when she said I owed her a drink. And no, I didn’t enjoy it, I was in pain. She put all her fury in it. And we didn’t go anywhere after that. She started crying. I put her on the couch in her backroom, said I’m sorry for the millionth time, and walked away through the backdoor.”

  “You know you’re only making it worse, right? It means that for six years you were with a much older, powerful vampire. And now you’re—”

  He grabbed me around my waist and pressed me to his chest.

  “That’s right. I was with her. And now I’m in love with a pissed off, powerful witch.”

  “Let me go.”

  “Nicky, stop this, please. I feel awful that you had to see it.” He loosened his grip. “This is one of those stupid things I wished you would never find out about me.”

  I had such mixed feelings, my head was spinning. “I’ve heard that for vampires, a bite like that, it’s even more intimate than a kiss.”

  “Yes, for vampires. I’m not a vampire. She nearly ripped my throat out. Who would enjoy that?”

  “Let me go,” I said, removing his hands. “I feel dirty, I need to shower.”

  “Nicky, come on. I already feel guilty enough. Please, forgive me. You’re killing me.”

  “I’m killing you? No, honey. Not yet. Wait until I tell you what I did.”

  Nate froze. “What did you do?”

  “You wanna know? Okay. A pissed off witch walks into a bar.”

  “You didn’t break something, did you?”

  “Nope, guess again.” God, what if he never forgives me?

  His jaw tightened. “Nicky, no. You didn’t.”

  My eyes filled with tears. “I was angry. And I had a drink.”

  “How far did he go?”

  “Don’t be an idiot.”

  “How far?”

  I had to say it, or he’d explode. “We kissed.”

  “I’ll kill that son of bitch.” He stormed out the door.

  “Nate, stop!” I ran after him. I caught up with him on the street and grabbed his arm. “I said stop.”

  “Are you kidding?” He glared at me. “You were sad, angry, and drunk, and he took advantage of you.”

  “If you do that . . . I . . . It was a gift.” He stopped, staring at me. “When I saw you with Ruby . . . it hurt me too much. And I asked him if that’s what he feels when he looks at you and me. You should be angry with me, not him, because I let him. But it wasn’t just an act of charity. I was hurting, and I wanted to hurt you back. I know.” I nodded. “I’m evil.”

  I turned around and walked away.

  He walked into the room right after me. I took off my dress, walked into the bathroom, and locked the door.

  “Seriously?” I heard his angry voice. “You’re locking yourself away from me?”

  I stood under the warm water and hoped it would wash away my guilt, and also the picture of Ruby and Nate in the bar, which was still in front of my eyes.

  When I came out, he went in, and I lay in bed, listening to the running water.

  Five minutes later he was lying next to me, and we both were staring at the ceiling.

  “This was one messed up night,” he said after a long moment of silence.

  “How much do you hate me right now?”

  “Would you stop that? Nicky, it happened, okay? I get it. He’s in love with you, and when he saw you in pain, it hurt him, and he wanted to comfort you.”

  “That’s what Sam said. He said, ‘Nate will kill me, but I don’t care, he shouldn’t have hurt you like that.’”

  “See? He was ready to be killed, and you didn’t let me to do my job.”

  “It’s not about him. He even tried to explain your actions. It’s about me. I didn’t stop him.”

  “Nicky.” Nate turned on his side and leaned over me. “You can hate me as much as you want, but don’t do this to yourself. Of course it makes me crazy that he . . . It’s all m
y fault. I let it happen. But I’m not going to lose the love of my life over one stupid kiss and one vicious bite.” His hand slid over my belly. “I want to make you feel better, but I’m afraid to touch you. Is there anything I can do without pissing you off?”

  I turned my back on him. “Just hold me. Tight.”

  Kissing my shoulders, he wrapped his arms around me.

  8

  We were back in River Stones. The first night home I answered all Gran’s questions about our trip and told her about the safe in the house, which I found thanks to her advice.

  I also sent a message to Sam, telling him he was right and I was overreacting about what happened between Nate and Ruby.

  The next day Nate and I drove to the cabin. I took the folder I had brought from New Orleans and spent the time looking through the papers.

  What I found worried me.

  The papers were the result of dad’s research. He had been looking for other Callahan descendants. In his records, he was saying that one day, nearly five months ago, he saw a new name appear on one of the branches of the family tree. Eighty-six-year-old Sara Callahan. It alarmed him.

  The branch came from Henry’s daughter, Olivia Callahan. She was a dark witch, and her relationship with her father and her brother, who fully supported their father, were complicated. After she got married, she changed her last name and moved away, and Henry and his family didn’t keep in touch with her. So with time, it became hard to track down her line.

  No matter what surname they had during life, when someone from Callahan bloodline died, they appeared on the tree with the last name Callahan. But if their families lived under a different last name, there was no trail to follow.

  As Dad was saying, there hadn’t been a new name on the tree for sixty-nine years, and when this one appeared, he came to the conclusion that Sara’s parents had few children. And big or small, Sara could still have family. To make sure, Dad started researching the whole line all over again.

  “Nate,” I called as he came back from the barn with a stack of wood in his hands.

  “What is it?” He stopped, staring at me.

  “I think we have a problem.”