Awakening (10 page)

Robbie pushed open the door, and I followed him into the store. I was stunned by Alyce’s reception.

“Morgan!” she called. Her eyes were sparkling, her cheeks were pink, and she sounded almost giddy. “Robbie! I’m so glad to see you. I have excellent news!”

“What happened?” I asked.

“It’s almost unbelievable. Stuart Afton has forgiven Rosaline’s debt!” Alyce said.

“What?” I practically shrieked. “How did that happen?”

“Do rich people really do that?” Robbie asked.

“Apparently this one does,” Alyce said, laughing. “Afton called David late last night to say he’d made a sudden windfall on the stock market and he’d decided to pass on some of his good fortune. I suppose it’s the Yule spirit.”

David stepped out from the little back room. “Have you heard?”

“Alyce was just telling us,” I answered. “It’s too good to be true.”

David gave a faint smile. “It is rather surprising,” he said. “So the deal with the bookstore chain is off?” Robbie asked.

“That’s right,” David said. “And the upstairs tenants can stay, with their same rent.”

“Best of all, Practical Magick stays,” Alyce added. “We’re throwing a party here tonight to celebrate. I was just going to start making calls to invite all of you, in fact. We want everyone to come—Wiccans, Catholics, Buddhists, atheists, you name it.”

This was such great news. Even the idea of dark forces around couldn’t keep me from a celebratory mood. “We’ll be here,” I promised.

“Uh, Morgan.” Robbie elbowed me. “Hunter scheduled a circle tonight, remember?”

I’d forgotten, in fact. My stomach did a flip-flop at the thought of seeing Hunter again.

“I already spoke to Hunter. He’s going to reschedule,” Alyce said. She was practically giggling. “You don’t get a gift like this every day, and we must give it a proper welcome. I’ve already arranged for The Fianna to play. It was the first thing I did when I heard the news.” The Fianna was a hot Celtic pop band. Mary K. and I had tried to get tickets to one of their concerts last spring, and they had been totally sold out.

I glanced at David, who was methodically counting Tarot decks. Compared to Alyce’s high-energy happiness, he seemed subdued. Then I remembered that this positive outcome came from a loss—the death of David’s aunt. Perhaps now that the immediate crisis about the building was over, he had more time actually to feel his grief. Well, as Wicca teaches, everything is cyclical. Life leads to death leads to rebirth.

I wondered what kind of cycle I was in with Hunter. Annoyance leads to dreaming of kissing him to . . . irritation again?

 

“So what non-Wiccans are going to be at this party?” Mary K. asked as we waited for Das Boot’s windshield to defrost. I’d come home that afternoon to find her so down about her breakup with Bakker that I’d talked her into coming with me to the Practical Magick party. Mary K. felt pretty much the same way that my parents did about Wicca, so she’d been reluctant—until I mentioned that The Fianna was going to play.

“The Fianna?” she’d gasped. “For real?”

After that she couldn’t say no.

I wasn’t just being nice by inviting her; I needed her support. I’ve never been the most comfortable person at a party. And knowing that Hunter would be there made me even more nervous.

I blew on my fingers to warm them up. “I’m not sure who’ll be there,” I said. “Probably the people who live above the shop. Plus you’ll know Robbie and Bree and the other kids from school. They’re Wiccans, but they’re still people you’ve known forever.”

I glanced at Mary K. She was wearing a short brown wool skirt and a russet-colored sweater. Citrine earrings sparkled against her auburn hair. As usual she looked perfect—neither too casual nor too dressy, just undeniably pretty.

“Well, you look great,” she said, sounding uncharacteristi cally nervous.

On her advice, I had worn a lavender sweater, a long forest green skirt, an amethyst necklace, and brown lace-up boots. Did I really look good? Except when I was making magick, I usually felt depressingly plain. I’m five-foot-six, completely flat chested, with boring, medium-brown hair and what my mother calls “a strong nose.” I mean, I’m not revolting or anything, but I’m not pretty.

At least, I was never pretty until Cal. Cal himself was so beautiful, he could have had any girl he wanted—and he chose me. Of course, he had chosen me for awful reasons, but in spite of that I didn’t believe he’d totally faked the way he looked at me, touched me, kissed me. It seemed like I’d become beautiful. Now, without him, I felt plain again.

Mary K. fiddled with her seat belt and turned to me. “So . . . what happened with you and Cal? I mean, the real story.”

My fingers tightened on the steering wheel. I took a deep breath. Then I finally told her everything that had happened the day of the fire. Everything I hadn’t told my parents.

“Oh my God,” was all she could say when I was done. “Oh my God, Morgan.”

“You know, I owe you an apology for being so judgmental about you and Bakker,” I told her. “I guess I expected you to handle the whole situation according to a simple, rational formula: Bakker hurts Mary K.; Mary K. dumps Bakker.”

“That’s how it should have been.” Mary K.’s voice was so quiet, I could barely hear her. “I can’t believe I gave him another chance.”

“Two weeks ago I couldn’t understand that,” I said slowly, my thoughts forming my words. “But feelings don’t work rationally. I did the same thing. All last week I knew things were wrong with Cal. But I didn’t want to believe he could hurt me, even after he used his magick against me.”

“He’d done it before?”

“The night before my birthday.” The night we almost killed Hunter, I thought. Mary K. didn’t need to know that part. I swallowed hard. “Cal—put a binding spell on me. I couldn’t move. It was like I was drugged.”

“Oh, great. All these things you’re telling me really make me want to walk into a room full of witches.” Mary K. peered out through her window as I pulled into a parking spot down the block from Practical Magick. “Is it too late to turn around and go home?”

“Yes. It’s too late.” I smiled and shut off the engine, but Mary K. just sat there, tugging her glove off and then on again. When she spoke, she sounded young and vulnerable.

“I appreciate what you said about me and Bakker. And I know that Wicca and your—your birth mother mean a lot to you. But all this witch stuff—it scares me. Especially when you tell me what’s happened to you because of it.”

I sighed. Maybe I’d told her too much.

“That’s why it’s so important to me that you come to this party,” I tried to explain. “I want you to meet these people, to see that they’re not all weird or scary or evil. I don’t want to have to hide what I am. Please, Mary K. If you’re really uncomfortable, we won’t stay. I promise.”

She looked down at her lap. After a moment she nodded.

“Okay,” I said, trying to sound cheery. “Let’s party.”

10

The Party

Mary K. wasn’t the only one who was nervous. I felt flutters in my stomach as we walked up the block toward the store. It had occurred to me that I was going to have to walk into a room full of people who all probably knew exactly what had happened with me and Cal. I pictured the talk stopping and all eyes turning toward me and Mary K. the minute we opened the door. My pace slowed to a halt.

Mary K. looked at my face. “Want to go home?” she asked shrewdly.

I swallowed. “No. Come on.”

As it turned out, our entrance hardly attracted any notice at all. I stood by the glass doors, peeling off my gloves and gathering my courage. The party was already in full swing. Practical Magick was lit with candles and tiny white Christmas lights, and fragrant pine boughs decked the molding. Shelves had been moved into the nonbook half of the store so a platform stage could be set up. A cloth printed with Celtic knots was draped over the counter and covered with platters of food.

Alyce, wearing a long blue velvet dress, was the first to greet us. “Morgan,” she said, folding me into a hug. “You look wonderful. I’m so glad you made it. And this is . . . ?”

“My sister, Mary K.”

“Welcome,” she said, clasping both of Mary K.’s hands in hers. “What a pleasure to meet you.” Mary K. smiled; it was impossible not to respond to Alyce’s warmth.

Alyce waved us in. “It’s crowded already,” she warned. “There’s a coatrack set up against the back wall, cold drinks by the stockroom door, and hot apple cider on the little table by the Books of Shadows.”

“Are The Fianna really playing?” asked Mary K.

“They are. They’re in the back room, going over their set list.”

“How did you ever get them?” Mary K. was clearly awestruck.

“Connections,” Alyce told her. “The lead guitarist is my nephew. Would you like to meet them?”

My sister’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

“Now’s your chance.” Alyce slipped an arm through Mary K.’s and led her behind the counter and into the back room.

I surveyed the other guests. It
was
crowded. I spotted the elderly couple from upstairs holding hands and beaming happily. Even from across the room, I could sense their relief. I felt a rush of pleasure, knowing that some problems had quick and happy solutions.

Sharon and Ethan were standing near an aluminum tub filled with ice and canned drinks, their heads bent toward each other. Jenna, wearing a silky slip dress with a cropped cardigan, was chatting animatedly to a guy who’d been in the shop the other day. He was laughing at something she said, and I noticed her ex, Matt, watching them. From the way Jenna cast a subtle glance in Matt’s direction, I could tell she enjoyed knowing that Matt was watching her flirt.

Things are getting more and more complicated, I thought. I glanced around, looking for Hunter. I almost missed him because he was kneeling down in deep conversation with a little boy I recognized as the four-year-old son of the other tenant, Lisa Winston. The little boy seemed to be explaining something very important to Hunter, and Hunter was nodding seriously. Then Hunter said something, and the boy laughed with delight. Hunter must have felt my eyes on him because he suddenly glanced my way. I felt my heart catch; was it nerves?

Hunter went back to talking to the boy, and I was wondering if I should go join them when I heard someone say my name behind me.

“Morgan, isn’t it?” I turned to see a middle-aged woman with salt-and-pepper hair in a thick French braid. She looked familiar, yet I couldn’t place her.

“I’m Riva. I met you once at Selene’s. I’m part of Starlocket,” she explained. “I heard about what Selene and Cal tried to do to you,” she added, staring at me.

“Oh,” I said. This was just what I’d been afraid of. I felt like a zoo exhibit and wished desperately that she’d just go away and leave me alone.

“I couldn’t believe it,” she went on. “I had no idea Selene was mixed up with dark magick. I promise you, if any of us had known, we wouldn’t have let her lead us.”

“Thanks,” I said awkwardly. “That’s good to know.”

She nodded and moved on to talk with another woman I recognized from Starlocket.

The mention of dark magick made me think again of the presence I’d felt at home and at the garage. I had checked to be sure that the protective sigils that Sky and Hunter had left at the house were still there, and it was reassuring that they were. Knowing that I had my altar set up also gave me something approaching peace of mind. Maybe I should find a book on altar magick, I thought. At least it would give me something to do besides standing here like a dork.

As I moved to the book section of the store, I felt a cold draft and turned to see the front door open.

“We’re here!” Raven Meltzer announced from the open doorway. “The party can start now!” She strode into the store, Bree and Sky following her.

Raven took the prize for most outrageous outfit—no surprise there. She hadn’t even bothered to wear a coat; she probably didn’t want anything to spoil her dramatic entrance. Her black leather bustier showed off both the circle of flames tattooed around her belly button and a generous amount of cleavage. She wore tight black leather hip huggers, heavy-soled biker boots, hematite bracelets on her wrists, silver chains around her throat, and glittery eye shadow that went clear out to her temples. She’d put blue highlights in her dyed black hair. Catching sight of Matt, she gave him a smile and then ran her tongue over her lips in a slow, deliberate way. He flushed heavily.

As Bree shrugged off her heavy coat, Robbie stepped up to take it from her. But he was too late; a guy I knew from English class had already grabbed it, and Bree was thanking him sweetly, touching his arm. She was looking even more glamorous than usual in a slim coppery sheath of a dress.

Sky was as beautiful as Bree and Raven but in a completely different way. She was more subdued, more contained, in a pair of black jeans and a midnight blue camisole that set off her pale complexion and dark eyes. Those eyes never left Raven. She watched her in fascination, with yearning. I had been shocked to discover that Sky had a serious thing for Raven; they were so different. Maybe for Sky that was part of the attraction.