“And warlocks,” Abby added. “But it’s not like we were going to tell them that. They were pissed because our family reunion always made a lot of traffic through town in the Fall. Blah blah. They should have been grateful, though, because it also brought some serious revenue to the shit hole town in the off season.”
Whoa. “How big of a family reunion are we talking?”
Abby looked toward the ceiling. “A hundred, maybe a hundred and fifty people, depending on the year.”
Holy hell! “Your family has a reunion with one hundred a fifty people at it every year?”
Abby gave a shrug and a nod. “Yeah.”
“And you’re related to all of them?”
“Oh!” She laughed. “No, only some of them. It’s actually our wider coven.”
Wren stopped. “You’re part of a coven that big?”
“More or less, yeah.” Abby took Wren’s hand. “And now, you are, too. If you want to be.”
Wren could only stare at her for a moment. “You want me to be part of your coven?”
“Yeah! No pressure though. You can come to the reunion with me in November and try it on for size if you want.”
“Come to your coven’s reunion.” Was she serious? Wren was at once hesitant about the idea, and so enthusiastic she wanted to jump out of bed and go right now.
“Exactly,” Abby replied. “It’s way casual. You’ll love it. And if you don’t—no sweat.”
Wren could only smile at Abby for a second. How could she say she knew she’d love it because Abby did without sounding like a total lunatic? “I’m sure it’ll be great.”
“Good. I’ll find out the date from my mom and we’ll make a plan.”
Words, soft and lovely, tried to worm their way out of Wren’s lips again—the same ones she’d been fighting. She tried to stop them on reflex, but forced herself to think instead.
What was she so afraid of? That it was too soon? She’d just banished a demon with Abby. They’d slept naked side by side for the last three nights,. They’d taken care of one another. They’d shared their magic as much as they’d shared their bodies and their minds.
“I love you” shouldn’t be so hard to say after all of that. Not with how much she felt it.
“You what?”
Oh. She’d said that out loud. Wren bit her lip and smiled while a warm kind of eagerness filled her chest. And when she said it this time, it was on purpose. “I love you, Abby. So much.”
Abby’s brown eyes sparkled, her smile spreading slowly across her pink lips. “I love you, too.”
Heart pleasantly in her throat, Wren leaned at the same time Abby did until their lips met.
“Damn, that feels good to say,” Abby said as soon as they parted. “I’ve been choking it back for days.”
Wren laughed under her breath. “Me too.” Why had she let herself get in the way of what she’d known was right?
She was a witch, goddammit. She didn’t need to follow anybody’s timeline or anybody’s instincts but her own.
Abby smirked. “Also, you saved the world.”
Oh really? “Would I have had enough power alone?”
Now Abby’s smirk turned begrudging. “No.”
“So then, we saved the world.” She squeezed Abby’s hand.
Abby sat her mug of tea down onto the counter beside the bed, then reached and took Wren’s from her free hand. “If you have enough energy to argue, you have enough energy to make-out.”
Wren grinned as Abby turned into her arms. She was going to enjoy getting used to this.
⫷⫸⫷⫸⫷⫸
Callum jogged ahead of Scott and Cecily as they made their way up the front walk so he could unlock the door while Zander hung back with Cecily’s slower pace.
She’d said her head was killing her but other than a mild concussion, she’d been given a clean bill of health.
Thank the universe.
Wren and Abby pulled up in Abby’s Prius just as Cecily and Scott crossed the threshold into the house. They came jogging up the driveway, Wren with a hand outstretched as she reached Cecily like she was worried about her balance.
“How’re you feeling?” she asked when Cecily smiled at her.
“My head hurts, and I can’t take the stuff that normally works because baby,” she pointed at her belly, “but everything’s okay otherwise, so I’m trying not to complain. Scott said you were a huge help with the EMTs yesterday. Thanks.”
Wren smiled. “It was nothing.”
Then Abby squeezed Cecily’s shoulder. “Complain all you want. Besides, I bet Wren can help with your headache.”
“Can you really?” Cecily’s voice sounded like someone being told they could fly, all hope and wonder.
“Probably,” was Wren’s matter-of-fact response.
“Do you want help going up the stairs?” Zander asked. The whole thing had shaken her up more than she was letting on so Callum was giving her the space to mentally process. He fully expected at least one night of lets-have-some-beers-and-verbally-process-everything. Likely more than one, with repeat performances over the coming months. Learning your father wasn’t your father, and then learning the man was plotting against you had to be a bit of a mind trip. It would take more than your average number of sessions before a person worked through even half that.
“Not yet,” Cecily replied with a smile. “The sofa’s good, but I can get there on my own.”
A few minutes later, they were all lounging in the living room. Wren and Abby were sharing the chair-and-a-half, Abby’s legs dangling over one of the arms while she leaned into Wren who had her arms around her.
It made Callum smile to see Wren starting a new chapter. After being witness to her conversation with Bridgette’s spirit last fall, watching Wren smile so comfortably with someone new was like watching the happy ending to a movie six-months in the making—longer, when he considered how long it had been since Bridgette passed.
Zander was snugged into Callum’s side, her feet drawn up onto the couch they were sharing while a bottle of beer hung from between her fingers. Why hadn’t he thought to nab a beer from the fridge?
A quiet knock at the front door was followed by the sight of Alyssa pushing her way through. “Hey.” Her voice was quiet, her smile small.
Cecily looked over the back of the sofa and smiled. “Hey. What are you doing here? Not that I mind—”
“Zander texted and said you were coming home from the hospital,” Alyssa replied, “so I took the afternoon off work.”
“There’s room at the end of the sofa,” Zander said with a smile of her own. “Come join our lounge-fest.”
Callum made sure to smile when Alyssa looked his way. Zander had told him about the conversation they had yesterday afternoon, about spending more time together, and he wanted to support that effort however he could. Zander and Cecily would both be happier having their third sister in their lives.
Cecily poked Alyssa in the leg with her toes from where she was sitting, tucked against Scott on the other end of the sofa. “I’m happy to see you.”
Alyssa’s smile looked genuine and relieved. “I’m happy to see you conscious.”
Cecily’s brows furrowed with question. “Were you there yesterday?”
“Yeah, part of the Scooby Gang,” Alyssa replied.
“Remember? I told you she came outside with me after we got you out,” Scott said quietly to her.
“Oh. Yeah, I remember that now. I hate that I can’t remember it for real,” Cecily sighed. “I thanked Wren before, but I should really thank all of you. Scott told me everything you all did, and... yeah.” Her voice cracked and her eyes reddened.
Around the room, everyone shook their heads and said something along the lines of “you don’t need to say thank you.”
She and Scott exchanged a long, meaningful look before he took Cecily’s hand in his. She smiled softly, then looked to the group again, blinking fast.
“You said you don’t remember any of it?” Abby asked g
ently.
“I remember a lot of it—but nothing after he tied me down. But before that, while he was getting ready, he had a lot to say,” Cecily replied.
Callum didn’t realize how hard he was clenching his teeth until his jaw started to ache. Who the fuck did Marcus think he was?
“He used this smoke to keep me unconscious for a lot of it. Each time it wore off, I was confused like my brain wasn’t working right. When I woke up the first time, I tried to get him to tell me what he was planning, but he wouldn’t.” Her small smile and low scoff of a chuckle seemed out of place until she went on. “The next time I woke up, though, he really started talking. I don’t know if he thought I wouldn’t remember it or something? But it was so fucking cliche for him to start monologuing, it sort of brought me out of the stupor a little. Bridgette and Trevor helped me stay awake, too.”
“Could he see them?” Zander asked.
Cecily shook her head. “Not at all. His place wasn’t even runed to keep them out.”
“You can’t summon a demon into a space surrounded by protection spells,” Abby said, voice low.
That fucker. Callum was glad Marcus had come at him the minute they barged into his apartment yesterday. Punching the asshole in the face might have been one of the most cathartic things he’d ever done. It was like he’d channeled every ounce of anger and grief he had into that one punch, which explained how he’d knocked the dude out cold.
“What did he monologue about?” Zander asked.
“Oh, his plans,” Cecily replied, eyes exhausted but bright like she could still hardly believe it. “He wanted to summon the Shadow demon to do his bidding—”
“Always with the bidding!” Abby exclaimed. She looked at Wren, “Didn’t I say that’s what he was planning?”
Wren chuckled and put a hand on Abby’s knee. “She did say that.”
“He’d never have been able to keep the thing under control,” Abby added with a generous eye roll.
“Well, he thought he was going to use it to track down Anders and destroy him,” Cecily went on.
“Are you kidding me?” Zander sounded disgusted. “He’s still pissed about Anders?”
“It gets better,” Cecily added, eyes wide. “Then he wanted to show Mom how powerful he was so,” she made air quotes around the next words, “she’d see her mistake and be compelled to correct it.”
What the fuck?
The entire room sat in shocked silence for a beat, until Scott chuckled. “Yeah, that was my reaction, too.”
Then everyone started talking.
“Was he out of his mind?”
“What kind of misogynistic bullshit is that?”
“I hope they never let that fucker out of jail.”
“You told all of this to the police?”
“Have you talked to Mom?” Zander asked her.
Cecily nodded. “Yeah, she visited last night in the hospital. I told her everything.” When she winced and brought her fingers to her temples, the room fell silent.
“Okay, let’s see what we can do about that headache,” Wren said as Abby swung her legs to the floor.
Callum looked down at Rhia who was dancing by the sofa, whining softly like she was trying to talk. Which was Rhia-language for “take me outside, numb-nuts.”
“Okay, okay.” He pushed himself up from the sofa and followed Rhia to the back door. He hadn’t planned to go outside with her, but when the mild spring air hit his senses, outside was exactly where he wanted to be.
It felt good to step into the mellow energy of outdoors after all of the intensity of that previous conversation. Cecily talked about it all like it was some horrible dream, like nothing was real. She was stronger than he was, that’s for damn sure. He’d have been in the fetal position if he’d lived through it.
At least now they knew Marcus was evil—no speculation. Last night while they laid in bed, Zander had said it felt like closure, seeing him arrested. Which, when he thought of it like that, gave Cecily’s strength more context. She was upset, just like Zander was, but a weird kind of relieved too, he imagined.
Callum looked out into the lawn to where Rhia was panting, stepping her big feet in place and wagging her tail like she’d never been happier to see him.
“You got a serious need for some fetch, or something?” She had certainly earned it. He stepped onto the grass, the blades tickling his bare feet.
“Callum.”
He turned to the sound of his name—and stopped.
It was Miriam. Just a few feet away.
“Mom.” He breathed the word, unable to make his voice work, like his heart really had flown into his throat and was rendering him mute.
It was his mom. Exactly as he remembered her—not from when she’d just been Miriam, but when she’d been his honest-to-god mother.
She beamed, her smile spreading until it was so wide and so bright, it transformed her face into something younger than he’d ever known her to be.
“God, look at you,” she said, stepping toward him. “I can’t believe it.”
For one flash of a moment, he didn’t believe her. For one flash of a moment, his learned skills for coping with her mental illness as he’d visited her in the hospital—and even before then—flipped on. But when he felt himself pulling away, he stopped and stepped forward instead.
“Where have you been?” he asked. “I looked for you—”
“I know you did,” Miriam replied with a nod. “I could see you, but I couldn’t get to you. There was something in the way—something dark. But now it’s gone and here you are.” She shook her head, still grinning ear-to-ear. “I haven’t left your side.”
Her dark hair was long, falling over her shoulders in thick locks that curled just slightly at the ends. It was shiny and healthy, her semi-transparent skin bright, her blue eyes without dark circles beneath them.
As he stared at her, trying to find words, her expression slowly shifted from happiness to concern. “Are you angry?”
He shook his head. “I thought you were staying away.”
She took another tentative step toward him, her hands reaching out, but then falling to her sides like she wasn’t sure he wanted her close. “I would never stay away from you by choice.”
He’d convinced himself of it. Not because he believed she was cruel, but because believing she was staying away by choice was less painful than hoping he was wrong.
She sighed, her expression changing to one of pleading question. “Can you forgive me?” she asked. “For this, and for everything I put you through? For all of the ways I failed you?”
Callum paused, taken aback and unsure what to say. Was this really happening?
“You can tell me no,” she went on, “and I’ll never bother you again. And if you tell me yes, it doesn’t mean you have to forgive me now, right this moment. I know it will take time.”
As he stood there, staring at her, he was a child again. At that moment, he was eight years old, with a fresh, illegal tattoo, and more questions than answers. Alone, though she was with him. Scared. Confused.
At least now his tattoos were legal. At least now he was less scared. And he wasn’t confused. Not about anything in his life that mattered—and not about this.
“I can forgive you,” he said with a nod. “That was never a question.”
The back door into the house crack open. “Baby, you okay?” He turned to see Zander standing half-in, half-out of the back door, question plain on her face. “Are you talking to Trevor?”
Callum shook his head. He threw a glance at his mom, who was looking at him with question as well. “I’m gonna disappear for just a second,” he said. “But I’ll be back—don’t go anywhere.”
Miriam smiled. “I’ll be here.”
Callum whispered a laugh and looked to Zander again. “Come out into the grass for a minute.”
Zander smiled, but the question remained in her expression as she stepped out onto the deck. “What’s going on?”
&
nbsp; “There’s somebody I want you to meet,” Callum replied.
From his peripheral vision, he saw Miriam disappear the moment Zander’s feet touched the grass. He fought a momentary flare of panic—what if she couldn’t get back to him?—but forced himself to dismiss the worry as soon as it came on. If Trey could always find Cecily, then his mother would always be able to find him.
“Open the cloak,” he said as Zander walked toward him.
Her expression looked like she thought he’d lost his mind, her dark brows rising high above her hazel eyes. Then recognition lit in her expression. “Is it your mom?”
Callum smiled.
The cloak fell open under Zander’s fingers and light spilled out from around her, like pulling back the curtains at midday.
Callum saw Zander draw a breath at the same time he heard Miriam’s small gasp.
He glanced at his mom but brought his attention back to Zander, whose eyes were wide and soft lips were open in awe. “Baby, this is my mom, Miriam.” Then, turning to his mom, he said, “Mom, this is Zander. She is my everything.”
As Zander said hello, and his mom—his honest-to-god mom—introduced herself, Callum had to take a second. He had so many questions—about his life, about Miriam’s, about being a medium, and her time in the hospital—and as every one of them came up his throat, fighting for the chance to be asked, he reminded himself that he didn’t have to ask them all now. There’d be time for that. Time he’d never had before.
Now he had the family he’d always longed for—more, and better than what he’d ever dreamed of when he’d been a foster kid wishing for a family. Sure, some of its members were ghosts, some were witches—and, apparently, a warlock, thanks to Scott—and he’d always have his cloak by his side. So maybe this family was built with blocks a little less square than other families, but it was perfect that way. All of their odd angles, together, were as strong as any cube-built family unit.
EPILOGUE
Coming in the backseat of a car, or rather, making your girlfriend come in the backseat of a car was a challenge Wren was happy to take on. Her wrist was cramping, but the way Abby was arching, her knee up on the backrest, her eyes fluttering closed and her soft lips pulling open as she panted? There was no way Wren was stopping this train to change position.
The Witch's Complement Page 19