by Tara West
Mrs. Dawson’s eyes shot open. “That’s the feel of magic,” she breathed.
Grandma opened her eyes, looked down at the sleeping babies, and smiled. “It worked.”
Relief swept through me so strong and sudden, my knees weakened, and I had to sink into a nearby chair. “Thank you,” I said.
Grandma hobbled over to me and patted my shoulder. “The glamour should hold for at least a few years. We should probably do this again before they start school.”
“Okay.” I nodded absently. “I’m sure I’ll be doing a lot more babysitting in the future.” I didn’t know why, but that realization didn’t make my stomach churn. Even though the night had been stressful, I loved my nephews. I was just relieved their magic would be kept hidden.
I jumped to my feet at the sound of the deadbolt unlocking. My parents poured into the front foyer, Dad at the helm, fists clenched and brow furrowed, looking ready to beat us all to a pulp.
His raging lunatic expression softened when he saw Mrs. Dawson and Grandma standing beside me. Of course, I knew right away he’d probably seen Mrs. Dawson’s car in the driveway and suspected I had a boy over. I wanted to yell at my dad for his lack of trust, and then I remembered a boy had been here a few moments ago.
“Hey, look who’s here,” Dad said to Mom through a frozen smile.
“Mrs. Dawson,” Mom said as she pulled off her heavy black coat. “I wasn’t expecting you.” She walked toward Mrs. Dawson with a slight limp and opened her arms for a hug. I could tell Mom’s feet were killing her in those heels.
Rose Marie scooted around us and rushed to the playpens, heaving a sigh when she saw the babies were sleeping.
My mom and AJ’s mom shared an awkward hug before pulling apart. “When we heard Sophie was watching the babies,” Mrs. Dawson said before winking at me, “we had to come see them for ourselves.” Then she motioned toward Grandma who was swaying back and forth like a sky-scraper in an earthquake. “You remember my mother.”
Mom made a face as Grandma burped into her fist. “Hello,” Mom said, holding out her hand.
“Eh?” Grandma said as she leaned against the side of Alex’s playpen for support.
Mrs. Dawson grabbed her mother by the elbow. “They’re just adorable,” she said with what seemed like forced exuberance as she struggled to keep Grandma upright.
Rose Marie turned toward Mrs. Dawson. “I hope they weren’t too much trouble.”
“Oh, no.” Mrs. Dawson emphatically shook her head. “They were little angels.”
“Well, I should get them to bed,” Rose Marie said as she packed up the diaper bag.
Dad came into the room and helped her load them into their car seats. They didn’t flinch when she hefted them from their playpens and buckled them in their seats.
“Whoa,” Rose Marie gasped. “You must have really worn them out. Thanks, Sophie.”
I shrugged, not willing to admit it was actually the other way around.
“So how is AJ doing?” Mom asked Mrs. Dawson. Mom’s arms were now folded across her chest, and I could tell by her awkward stance she wasn’t comfortable talking to AJ’s mom.
Grandma had flopped back down onto the sofa, head tilted back as if she was taking a nap.
“AJ’s doing well,” Mrs. Dawson said in that saintly sweet voice of hers. “She’s recovering nicely.”
AJ had been in a major accident right before she and Krysta left for Salem to stay with her Aunt Bertrice. She would have probably died hadn’t it been for Aunt B., who had magical healing powers. I suspected AJ was all healed by now, but my mom didn’t need to know that.
“That’s good,” Mom answered with a smile, though her tone lacked any emotion. “Sophie was so upset when she left.”
Really mom? I thought bitterly. Then why won’t you let me go see her?
Mrs. Dawson’s response was tailor-made for me. “Yes, I know. That’s actually another reason I stopped by. My family will be traveling to Salem to visit AJ and Krysta for Thanksgiving, and we wanted to bring Sophie with us.”
Mom stiffened, and the hard look in her eyes told me she was not willing to compromise. “Thanksgiving is family time.”
When Mrs. Dawson answered with a sigh, I had to interject. My mom’s reasoning for keeping me here was totally unfair.
“Every day is family time,” I said as resentment welled up inside my chest. “I want to see AJ and Krysta.”
Mom shot me a pleading look. “But this will be the babies’ first Thanksgiving.”
I shrugged. “We’ll still have Christmas.”
“Well, I know AJ misses Sophie terribly,” Mrs. Dawson said, her voice dripping with guilt as thick as maple syrup. “I think having her friend visit may help complete her recovery.”
Mom’s eyes narrowed. “I thought she was recovering nicely.”
“Oh, she is.” Mrs. Dawson’s voice was laced with sugary sweetness. “She’s come so far. She was in a coma for three days, you know?”
“Yes,” Mom said coolly, “we remember.”
Mrs. Dawson batted her lashes at me. “It would mean so much to all of us if Sophie could join us for Thanksgiving.”
“I think it would be good for Sophie to spend some time with her friends.” Dad had come up behind us, toting an infant car seat in each hand. “We’ll definitely consider it, Mrs. Dawson, and get back to you in the morning.”
Mom gasped and her face colored.
Mrs. Dawson clapped her hands together, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “I look forward to hearing from you,” she said to my dad, completely ignoring my mom’s angry glare. Mrs. Dawson turned to Grandma, who was now snoring rather loudly on the sofa. “Come on, Mother!” she hollered, snapping her fingers.
Grandma jerked upright, rubbing sleep from her eyes before looking around the room in a daze. She slowly stood while rubbing her lower back. Then she wobbled out of the room, mumbling beneath her breath but not speaking a word to anyone.
Mrs. Dawson and my parents exchanged awkward goodbyes before she followed her mom out the door.
My dad was still standing there, clutching those car seats as if they were made of air. I kept expecting him to crumble under the weight of my mom’s stare, but to my surprise, he held his ground.
Wow. The lasers shooting from Mom’s eyes looked hot enough to melt lead. As soon as Mrs. Dawson shut the door behind her, I braced myself for the backlash.
“That old woman was drunk,” Mom snapped, never taking her irate glare from my father. “I don’t trust them with my daughter.”
Dad ground his jaw as he fixed my mom with a determined expression. “She’s my daughter, too.”
Mom rolled her eyes. “I know that.”
“She wants to go to Salem,” Dad said plainly. “I want her to go to Salem.”
Mom gasped. “Have you lost your mind?”
Dad didn’t answer as he turned and carried the babies outside. Rose Marie followed Dad out the door, throwing me a sympathetic look as she went by.
Even though I was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to fall into my soft, warm bed, I had a feeling my parents would drag me right back downstairs, so I stood there beside my mom, as still as a statue, waiting for my dad to return.
I stole a glance at her. She had this look in her eyes like she was a steam roller, getting ready to crush anything in her path. I swallowed back a nervous lump in my throat.
Tonight was so not going to end well.
“You’re not going to Salem,” Mom hissed.
I looked back at her, feeling my chest tighten and my throat constrict. Why was she so determined to make my life miserable? I was so sick and tired of this tension between us. I thought back to a conversation I’d had earlier with Alessia, and realized our once loving relationship had turned sour.
“Look,” I said to my mom, “I know you don’t trust me anymore, especially after Rose Marie got pregnant, but you need to know something.” I cocked one hand on my hip, fixing her with a glare of my own
. “I’m not stupid.”
Mom flashed her all-knowing look. “Your sister said the same thing.” Her tone was laced with bitterness.
And this lack of trust was exactly why I hadn’t told my mom Ethan asked me to be his girlfriend. At the rate our relationship was deteriorating, I doubted I’d tell her anytime soon.
“But I mean it,” I said, unable to stop the whine that slipped into my voice. “I don’t want babies yet. I want to be a teen, a normal teen.” I paused for a second as I reflected on the irony of that statement. Well, as normal as a mind reading witch could be anyway. “And this whole Salem thing and you freaking out about witches,” I groaned, “is total overkill.”
Mom’s lips turned into a pout, and I thought I saw a sheen of moisture in her eyes. “I’m just looking out for you.”
Dad came back into the house, and marched up to us with slow, heavy steps.
“Dear, I think you’re making a big deal out of nothing,” he said to my mom, laying a hand on her shoulder.
“You make a big deal out of everything, Mom.” I paused as my throat tightened, making it hard for me to finish. I dropped my gaze to the carpet and cleared my throat. “It makes it really hard to talk to you.”
Despite my best effort not to cry, I felt hot tears well up in my eyes. I didn’t want this kind of relationship with my mom. I didn’t want us ending up like Frankie and his dad. Sure, I knew I didn’t always deserve her trust, but was it too much that I wanted a mom who loved me unconditionally?
Mom pulled me to her chest, wrapping me in a strong hug. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to end up ruining your life.”
I sniffled as a few errant tears slipped over the rims of my eyes. Mom pressed my head against her chest, making it hard to breathe, much less talk. “I promise I won’t ruin my life,” I rasped, “but you’re going to have to trust me. I’m not a dummy, Mom.”
She pulled back, searching my gaze with watery eyes. “I know you’re not,” Mom said, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re right.” She kissed my cheek and wiped away a stray tear. “Okay, you can go to Salem.”
“Really?” I squealed, jumping up and down.
Mom sighed before slowly nodding. “Really.”
She gasped when I launched myself into her arms. When I felt Mom rock back beneath my weight, I grabbed her shoulders, pulling her upright. She’d really have to do something about those shoes. In the meantime, Mom had her arms wrapped around me and was just tall enough in her shoes to kiss the top of my forehead. It reminded me of when she’d hug me when I was little. I have to admit, her love felt kind of nice.
*****
After kissing my parents goodnight, my legs felt like they’d been weighted with a thousand stones as I trudged up the stairs. What a long day! I couldn’t wait to curl up in my bed and fall asleep.
Alessia was waiting for me on top of my bed, that knowing look in her cool feline gaze.
You look exhausted.
“Long, day. Really long day.” Then I thought about all I’d been through, way too much stress for any normal girl. Good thing I wasn’t normal. I shuddered as I thought about Ethan’s warning tonight. I knew he had been trying to tell me something about Mr. Sleznick. “Alessia,” I asked my cat, “have you ever known witches with red eyes who make you sick when you touch them?”
Her ears perked at that. Red eyes?
I swallowed bile as I recalled my terrible dream after Sleznick’s touch made me ill. “My teacher,” I said as I lowered myself onto the bed beside her. “I’ve seen his eyes turn red, and when he touched me, I was so sick, I had to take a nap. I had this horrible dream, too.”
A low growl escaped her throat. What was your dream, little witch?
I opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn’t escape that terrible visual of my teacher’s bloody mouth. I vehemently shook my head. I don’t know if I can repeat it.
Alessia sat up on her hind legs and placed her paws on my forearm, searching my face with her assessing gaze. Sophie, tell me.
I inhaled deeply and then slowly breathed out, trying to quell my shaking hands as I stuffed them inside my jeans pockets. “Ethan and I were old, and he was young. He had bloody teeth and he was choking me.” I ended the last part on a strangled whisper. I just couldn’t get past the terror of the dream. It felt so real.
Which teacher is this? Alessia asked with a hiss.
“Mr. Sleznick,” I said, a nervous giggle escaping my throat. “My history teacher from hell.”
Alessia shrieked back, her growl intensifying until its ominous tenor sent prickly waves of fear rippling across my skin. That’s not a funny jest. He may actually be from hell. Does he seem sickly to you?
“Yeah.” I nodded. “He walks with a stoop and his skin is pale with all these ugly liver spots.”
Alessia’s eyes narrowed. What about his breath?
I cringed as I remembered the putrid odor that came from his mouth. Sleznick should have been the poster child for gingivitis. “Seriously makes me want to vomit.” I shuddered as a wave of nausea washed over me. “You should see his teeth.”
Stay away from this teacher. Alessia’s warning came out on a sibilant hiss.
I rolled my eyes, but even as I tried to pretend the whole thing was a joke, the warning sirens were blaring in my head. My cat’s reaction was so not good. I scooted back from her, averting my gaze. Something about avoiding the truth seemed less scary than facing it. “Believe me, I try to.”
Alessia stood and extended her front paws in front of her. Sophie, listen to me. This is no joke. Your teacher is a demon.
I jerked back. “Excuse me?”
The worst kind, she continued. An incubus. You need to get out of his class.
I gasped. “It’s my only class with Ethan.” Besides, if our teacher really was a demon, there was no way I was leaving Ethan to face him without me.
You and Ethan are both in danger. These demons prey on young witches.
For a long moment it felt as if my heart stopped beating. I looked at my cat with my mouth hanging open. “Are you serious?”
Alessia contorted her spine into a perfect arc, her ears flat against her skull as her fur stood up along the ridge of her spine. There was an eerie look in her tapered eyes as she leveled me with a stare that made my knees weak with fear. Deadly serious.
The End
Dear readers, if you enjoy my Whispers series, I hope you get a chance to check out Witch Flame, the prelude to my fantasy saga, Keepers of the Stones. Witch Flame is either free or .99 at most ebook retailers. Tara
Purchase at Amazon
TARA WEST
A former Texas high school teacher, I enjoyed coaching the writing team and even the hectic deadlines that came with running the school publications. After taking a break to raise my baby girl, I now work from home as a novelist and a part-time graphic designer. In my spare time, I love to read, exercise and spend time with my family and friends. I get many emails asking me if I plan to continue my Whispers series and the answer is YES. Be looking for more from Sophie, Krysta and AJ in the near future.
I would love to hear from my readers!
Blog: tarawestauthor.wordpress.com
Email: [email protected]
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Website: http://www.tarawest.com
BOOKS BY TARA WEST
From the Whispers Series
Sophie’s Secret
Don’t Tell Mother
Krysta’s Curse
Visions of the Witch
Sophie’s Secret Crush
From Keepers of the Stones
Witch Flame, Prelude
Curse of the Ice Dragon, Book One
Spirit of the Sea Witch, Book Two (releasing 2014)
Book links
Amazon:
Purchase at Amazon
Purchase at Amazon
Purchase at Amazon
Purchase at Amazon
Purchase at Amazon
Spirit of the Sea Witch, Book Two (Available in 2014)