Chapter 16
I was standing at the corner waiting to cross the highway. I noticed a woman driving a station wagon in the lane closest to me. Suddenly a dark clad figure on a motorcycle whipped around from behind and cut sharply in front of it. The woman in the car jerked the wheel hard to the right to avoid a collision, and the vehicle careened onto the sidewalk, coming straight for me.
I was paralyzed with a moment of fear.
“Run, Portia!” Vance’s voice screamed into my head, and an image of us levitating together on the football field filled my mind.
I ran toward the vehicle, my left foot levitating on air, the right one actually touching the hood. I pushed off hard, sending my body into a roll as I coasted across the roof of the vehicle, only clearing it by inches. I landed in a crouch behind it and sank to sit on the ground. The station wagon hit a streetlight and came to a stop while the motorcycle sped off down the street.
I shook violently for several moments before the car door opened.
“Are you all right?” A shrill panicked voice filled the air, and a woman slowly exited her vehicle. She appeared to be several months pregnant.
“I’m fine.” I hurried to reassure her, hoping she was okay too.
“I’m so sorry!” She rushed to my side.
“It wasn’t your fault. It was the motorcycle.” I noticed her trembling figure. “You should go back and sit in your car. I’ll be okay.”
By this time, people were stopping and running to help. I saw Grandma exit her store and run to cross the street.
“Somebody call 911,” a man yelled out to the group of bystanders.
“Ouch!” The pregnant woman groaned, suddenly hunching over, grabbing her stomach.
“I’m fine! Help her!” I called to my grandma as she approached.
Grandma nodded and ran to the woman’s side. I started to stand to go help her, but the man who stood next to me told me to stay put.
“You could have injuries we can’t see. Wait for the paramedics to check you out.”
I felt stupid sitting here, but it would be a lot easier to do that than explain I was uninjured because I was a witch. I folded my arms around my knees and waited.
It shouldn’t have surprised me that Vance made it to the scene before the police or ambulance, but it did. He was suddenly there next to me, running his hands all over my body, checking me out.
“I’m fine!” I said again, slightly exasperated. “Go check the other lady! I think she’s in labor.” I pushed his hands away.
He locked eyes with me for a moment, the fear in them apparent, before he nodded and went to help Grandma.
I could hear the wailing of sirens coming down the street. Soon a couple of police cars and an ambulance arrived. One of the paramedics grabbed a trauma bag out of the back and ran toward the station wagon. The other came toward me.
“I’m all right.” I sighed. “The car didn’t hit me. I just fell,” I lied.
“Let me check you out real quick then,” the young man said.
After taking my blood pressure, feeling my pulse, listening to my lungs, and giving me a general once over, he finally allowed me to refuse treatment. Grandma signed the release, since I was underage.
I stood and watched as they strapped the pregnant woman to a backboard before wheeling her on a gurney to the back of the ambulance. Apparently, she was in full labor now. She kept apologizing to me as they loaded her. I reassured her I was fine and encouraged her to take care of herself and her baby.
After the ambulance left, a police officer questioned me about the accident. I told him about the motorcycle that fled the scene and hoped I gave a convincing enough scenario to fool anyone who had actually seen the accident. I said I jumped onto the concrete base of the light pole before jumping out of the way of the car. No one questioned me about it, and it was obvious to everyone I was okay, so I guessed it would stick. The officer released me into the care of my grandma, and we walked across the street together while Vance got his bike, and parked it in front of her store.
“How’d you get out of school so fast?” I laughed as we approached him when he got off the motorcycle.
He didn’t answer. Instead he grabbed me in a crushing bear hug and kissed me hard.
“I was so worried.” He ran his hands down my arms and across my stomach, then placed them on my head.
I knew he was checking me out again. I grabbed both of his hands in mine and pulled them away. “I’m fine, Vance. Really,” I stared into his concerned eyes. “The car barely touched me. Technically, I touched it. I’m okay.”
“Let’s go inside,” Grandma said, and we followed her into the store, hand in hand.
“You didn’t answer my question,” I said to him.
“Hmm? What question?” Vance replied with a raised eyebrow.
“How’d you get here so fast?”
“I ran out of the school, hopped on my motorcycle and came straight here. I’m sure my teacher will be calling Marsha to give her an earful about it. I’ll probably get a detention too, I imagine.” He grinned.
“You had to have known I was okay,” I said with a slight shake of my head.
He turned me to face him. “When it comes to you, Portia, I don’t take any chances.” His eyes bore into mine seriously, before he glanced at Grandma. “And I don’t think this was an accident.”
“What do you mean?” Grandma asked, as a concerned look crossed her face.
“The motorcyclist—when he passed by Portia, I sensed something. He was gunning for her. He was trying to orchestrate an accident, and she was the target. It’s why he fled the scene.”
I felt numb. “Why would anyone want to hurt me?”
“I don’t know. But I intend to find out,” he said forcefully, and I could feel the anger brewing inside him.
“We need to call the coven together this evening,” Grandma said, heading toward the telephone.
“I think that would be wise,” Vance agreed. “Something strange is going on.”
“Well, there goes our dinner and movie plan for tonight,” I said with a little laugh.
“Portia, we’ve got to figure out what’s going on. Someone tried to kill you today, or at the very least, hurt you significantly. We need to know why.”
“I know. I’m just trying to lighten the mood. Self-preservation I guess.” I suddenly felt like vomiting.
Vance wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on the top of my head. “Yeah, and I have to figure out how to live the rest of my life without ever letting you out of my sight.”
All the members of our coven came to the meeting that night. Everyone was very concerned, and they discussed things at length. But no one could suggest any plausible reason why anyone would orchestrate an attack against me. In the end, Vance insisted on having a powerful protection spell performed. When the ritual was complete and the circle released, they adjourned the meeting and we headed our separate ways.
Vance came home with me. My parents decided he would stay at our house indefinitely to provide extra protection. Mom fixed the guest room next to mine, which I thought was funny, since I knew she was aware he spent every night in my room. I guess this was her way of keeping appearances or sending a not-so-subtle message to Vance that he could be near me without being with me every night.
Marsha brought some of his things by a while later. She said there was an angry message on the answering machine, complaining about Vance running out of class without permission. She told us she would call them in the morning to tell them a family member had been in an accident, and she’d sent him a text to let him know, causing Vance undue panic. I felt bad about her having to tell a lie for my sake, but once again, I figured there must be some leeway for being completely truthful when it came to magic. Even if she told the truth, more than likely she’d end up in a loony bin somewhere instead of helping things get better.
After Marsha left, we went downstairs and ate dinner on the couch with Mom. She’d made chicken fettuccini a
lfredo while we’d been at our meeting, and it was delicious! We watched television while we ate, afterward helping Mom clean the kitchen before we headed off to bed.
Vance went into his room to change into a t-shirt and sweats, before he joined me.
“It’s been a crazy day,” he said, lying down next to me on top of the quilt as usual.
“Yes. I’m exhausted,” I replied, not even trying to stifle a yawn.
“Well, get some sleep.”
“I don’t want to. I want to visit with you since I won’t see you for most of the day tomorrow.”
“You need your rest, baby.” He stroked my hair. “I’ll be here in the morning, then for lunch, and a couple hours after that I’ll be home.”
“I know. But it’s hard for me when you’re away. It still hurts.”
“It’s hard for me too,” he said, continuing his caresses, trying to soothe me. “But we’ll make it through this. I promise.”
He placed his hand on my forehead and began muttering soft words in my ear. Instantly, my mind began to calm, and I was soon fast asleep.
When I woke in the morning, I stretched out lazily and headed out of my room in search of Vance. I quickly paused by “his” bedroom and could hear him in the shower, so I went downstairs to help my mom with breakfast.
“Morning, sweetie!” she said, flipping the French toast cooking in the pan.
“Morning, Mom.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek. “What can I do to help?”
“There’s some frozen orange juice in the freezer. You can mix it if you want.”
“Okay.”
“I have to go into work early, so I won‘t be here all day,” Mom said. “They’re swapping my shifts.”
“Is dad here?”
“No, he’s out checking on some of his contacts this morning. He should be back sometime this afternoon.”
“Great,” I said glumly. “A whole boring day to myself. I guess I could go to the shop with Grandma.”
“I don’t want you to leave the house, Portia,” Vance said, entering the room and making my mouth water with the scent of his aftershave. “You’ll be safer here.”
“I agree,” my mom said, further condemning me to my new prison by siding with him. “This house has protection charms everywhere.”
“They never kept Vance from getting in,” I reminded her.
“True. But he’s part of the coven. They were never meant to keep him out.”
I was defeated, I could tell, so I let the subject drop.
Mom placed a steaming plate piled high with French toast in the middle of the table, while I finished stirring the juice. I carried the pitcher over and sat down as she returned with a potholder, placing a hot pan of freshly made maple syrup in front of us. We paused for a moment to bless the food, then dished things up.
“Wow! This smells great!” Vance said, looking at everything appreciatively. “Thanks, Mrs. Mullins.”
“Please, call me Stacey—or even Mom,” she replied. “Mrs. Mullins makes me feel so old. Besides, you’re basically living here, and you’re dating my daughter.”
“My mom has to be one of the greatest cook on the planet,” I said proudly to Vance, changing the subject. “I don’t think there’s a dish she could make that I wouldn’t absolutely love.”
“Well, maybe eggplant casserole,” Mom said, correcting me with a laugh.
I groaned instantly at the memory. Mom tried a new recipe someone had given her that was supposed to be divine. It was the most horrible thing I’d ever tasted in my life. All three of us—Dad, Mom, and I—promptly scraped our plates into the garbage disposal. Mom even apologized to the garbage disposal for making it dispose of the dish.
“Yeah, that was pretty awful,” I agreed with a shake of my head.
The chatter continued until we were all finished. Vance and I helped clear items, and I told Mom not to worry about the dishes—I would take care of cleaning the house so she could get ready for work.
When it was time to tell him goodbye, I followed Vance to the door and hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go.
“I’m going to miss you today.” I buried my head into his shoulder.
“I’ll be back soon,” he replied, hugging me tightly, and I knew instinctively he didn’t want to leave either. “Go take a nap or something. It’ll go by a little faster.”
“All right.” I lifted my face so he could give me a kiss goodbye.
“I love you,” he said as he stepped outside. “Be careful.”
I watched him put his helmet on, and then he started his bike and took off. I closed the door with a sigh.
Desperate to keep busy, I went to the kitchen and tackled the mess we’d left behind. I was finishing the last of the mopping when I heard my mom coming down the stairs.
“Smells great in here!” she said, entering the room, taking a big whiff of the pine-scented cleaner I was using. “You did a nice job.”
She came to give me a quick hug and kiss on her way to the garage.
“Be careful today. Call me if you need anything,” she said.
“Don’t worry, Mom,” I replied. “If I die today, it’ll be from boredom.”
She laughed, grabbing her keys off the hook. “I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”
I watched with longing as she pulled out of the driveway and sped away. Turning back inside after the garage door had closed, I decided I was going to thoroughly clean the house for Mom today to help pass the time. There was only one problem. She’d been home all day yesterday, and there was nothing left to do. The house looked like a model home.
I decided to attack my room instead. It wasn’t really dirty, but my desk was a mess and needed some organizing. Plopping onto my desk chair with a sigh, I opened one of the drawers, peering at the mess inside. Truthfully, I didn’t really feel like tackling such a project. Then a new thought popped into my mind.
“I’m a witch! I don’t have to do things the old-fashioned way,” I said out loud to myself.
This could be fun.
I immediately began calling out commands to the objects in my drawer. The trash separated itself from the important papers. My files stacked themselves, pencils rushed neatly into their holder, and spilled paper clips found their way back into the box.
I opened the other three drawers in my desk and did the same thing. This really was a blast!
After I finished, I felt pleased with my success and looked at my clock. Five minutes had passed. I groaned. What else could I do?
I looked around the room and settled on my dresser. I went through each drawer, magically rearranging all of my belongings. Then I moved on to my messy jewelry box, using magic to help untangle my knotted chains and hang everything neatly in its place. I progressed on to my closet.
It suddenly occurred to me, as I was arranging my pants and shirts, why Vance’s room was cleaner than any guy’s room I’d ever seen. He was using his magic as well. I didn’t blame him. Doing jobs like this was a lot easier than the traditional way.
After I organized my nightstands, I looked around the room trying to think of something else I could do, and my eyes settled on my pale-purple walls.
“I wonder . . .” I placed both hands on the wall. I thought of the color pink. Instantly the bright hue I’d pictured seeped out from under my hands and spread across the walls until the entire room was an awful, eye-popping shade.
I continued my experiment, thinking of several other colors, and each time the room changed to match the color I was pondering. However, I soon grew bored with my little game, so I thought of a whole bunch of colors at once, and in a minute, it looked like someone had tie-dyed my bedroom. It quickly made me feel like I was hallucinating on drugs, however, so I settled for a soft shade of sage green. Then I went around flipping the fabrics to match. All the patterns stayed the same, just the colors were different.
After the fabrics, I concentrated on the pictures on the walls, and any other decorative items to complement. Even t
he carpet wasn’t safe from my mass remodel. When I was finished, I rearranged all the furniture. Finally, I plopped on my bed to survey the outcome.
“I should be an interior designer,” I said with a satisfied smile on my face.
I turned to look at the clock. One hour had passed.
“Aarrrgh!” I groaned loudly, plopping backward onto the bed in total frustration.
“Portia,” I heard Vance whisper in my head. “I’m sorry, but I won’t be home at lunch. The principal wants to meet with Marsha and me then.”
“Great,” I replied, the only bright spot in my day being ripped from me. “I guess I’ll see you after school.”
“Okay. Sorry, baby,” he apologized.
At that moment I heard the doorbell ring, I sat up nervously wondering who it could possibly be.
“It’s all right,” Vance said. “It’s your grandma.”
Of Witches and Warlocks: The Trouble with Spells Page 17