Bound In Blood (The Adams' Witch Series Book 1) (6 page)

BOOK: Bound In Blood (The Adams' Witch Series Book 1)
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My heart hummed with guilt as I walked into Abigail’ Diner. Less than forty-eight hours since I’d shown up at my aunt’s house and we’d already gotten into a fight.

Seeing Drake put me at ease though. And seeing Drake in his present situation had me giggle.

He sat at the counter and pretended to read the paper, deflecting his ex-girlfriend’s attempts at conversation. She hovered around him, pretending to wipe down counters and fill salt and pepper shakers, sneaking glances to see if he needed anything. That was probably the biggest drawback to small-town living. Everyone knew everybody else and there was no way to truly never see anyone again.

“Hey,” I said, sitting down on the stool next to his.

“You’re late.” He widened his eyes to convey the torture he endured.

Unable to hold it in anymore, I giggled. “Sorry. So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

His face was solemn, serious and his tone matter-of-fact. “Food.”

“Food?”

“Yes. Definitely food.” He folded the paper and placed it on the counter.

Marlene came right over and straightened it in front of him. Her arms stretched the entire length of the counter as she tapped the inner sections back in line, her hands lingering.

Drake ignored her and kept talking. “Then…they’re having a bunch of cool things going on around town. We can watch a mock witch trial.” His voice became lighter. “Explore the first settlers, attend a real Wiccan meeting…. Well, you get the gist. We can pretty much do whatever, whenever.” He paused to take a sip from his drink. Hovering Marlene took the opportunity to wipe the white-speckled Formica in front of him. “They have the same type of things going on all week. So, whatever you want to do is fine with me.”

I smiled at Marlene who still hovered. She waited in front of him like a hungry, homeless puppy.

I turned to Drake determined to ignore her. The incident this morning in the library left me gnawing for more information about Dad. Maybe Drake could help me find out what kind of person he was, since Rose was busy. “What do you think…” I glanced at Marlene who didn't even try to hide the fact she was eavesdropping on us, and lowered my voice. “What do you think my dad would have done?”

The question piqued the all-too-eager table busser’s interest. “Your dad?”

“Oh, that’s right.” Drake gestured with one hand like he had totally forgotten to introduce us and with the other, he squeezed my thigh underneath the counter. “Marlene, you haven’t met Sarah yet. Sarah, Marlene, Marlene Sarah.” To Marlene, he said, “Her dad used to live here.”

“Well, why didn’t
he
bring you here?” Marlene asked, her eyes rolling in the back of her dumb head.

My gut clenched. It had been a very long time since I had to explain to someone that I didn’t have a father and especially to someone who was being rude about it. “I don’t……he’s dead. I—”

“What about your mom?” Marlene interrupted. Some people might have felt bad and just. Stopped. Talking. Not Marlene. “Wouldn’t she be the best one to tell you about your dad? You didn’t have to come all this way.”

Not-too-subtle hint. Point taken.

Drake opened his mouth, but I started talking first. “She’s actually really busy being a bitch. So, no.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “I just have my aunt…and Drake.”

He leaned back and crossed his arms, a smile twisting the corners of his mouth. He seemed to be enjoying this.

“Well, then,” Marlene said, straightening her apron, “you’re definitely lucky to have found him. He just loves this stuff.” She smiled wide and reached out to rub Drake’s hand.

I took mine from his shoulder. Getting into a territorial boy fight was not on my agenda for today. I picked up the
Adams Gazette
and ignored them.

“I think I’m the lucky one,” Drake said. He pulled his hand away from Marlene and placed it in his lap. He smiled at me out of the corner of his mouth. Then, he turned back to Marlene. “Anyway…how about you get us some menus so we can order?”

Marlene’s feet stayed cemented on the other side of the counter. “Where are you staying?” she asked, now staring at me.

I completely ignored her until Drake nudged my chair with his foot. I sighed. “With my aunt.”

“And that would be…?”

I dropped the paper back onto the counter. All the insides she’d straightened so nicely earlier, spilled out on the white Formica in front of her. “Rose McCal—”

“Rose McCallister?” Marlene’s mouth dropped into an “o”. “Of course she’s your aunt. That’s just perfect.”

“Excuse me?”

“Marlene,” Drake said, his voice a warning.

She ignored him and kept her eyes on me. “Didn’t Drake tell you?”

I swallowed, my throat thickening fast. “Tell me what?”

“Knock it off, Marlene. Just get us some menus.”

Drake’s gruff voice made me stiffen even more on the stool.

Marlene pulled out a pen and pad from her apron and started to write as if she hadn’t said anything at all. “I’m sure you want your usual.”

“Sarah needs a menu.” He over-pronounced my name like he was talking to someone who couldn’t understand English.

She froze mid-writing and then walked away.

“What the hell was that all about?” I whispered.

“Don’t worry about it.” He took another sip from the mug, drawing it out this time, ending the conversation.

“That’s not likely.”

 

***

“So, here we are…downtown.”

Drake pointed down Main Street from the corner by Abigail’s Diner. We’d shoveled breakfast into our mouths as fast as we could to get away from the prying Marlene.

From this point of view, downtown consisted of one long street. It was small. Way small compared to downtown Miami. All the businesses hooked together and were made out of the same red brick. Some of the buildings were taller than others and the only distinguishing thing about them were the windows and the signs above the doorways announcing what they were.

It was as if I was on an old movie set. I half expected to see horses and carriages, with people wearing top hats and girls barely breathing because of their restricting corsets.

A long grassy area lined with benches was in the middle of downtown and split the street in two. Pink and purple flowering shrubs surrounded a statue of the first settler. At least, that’s what Drake said. I squinted to read the name on the plaque, but the only letter I could make out was a C.

It all seemed so quaint, like an illusion that could be easily wiped away. I was used to living in gated communities and cities with more than one stoplight, places people around here probably only dreamt about. I had to admit, though, this was nice. The houses and businesses were immaculate. Everything was clean in an old-fashioned way. I imagined my dad happy growing up here. He called Adams
home
.

I’d never felt at home anywhere. Home may as well have been an alien plant as far as I was concerned.

Drake led me down the sidewalk, past the big, black-iron lampposts and signs stating “Special Settler’s Day Sales” in the little trinket shops' windows. We turned toward the park where the opening ceremony took place last night.

Today, the park attracted just as many visitors. Carnival-like games, bounce houses and slides, concession stands, and booths littered the grounds. Signs announced “Marla the Magnificent” and “Psychic Sam”.

At Abigail’s, Drake saw an advertisement for the Psychic Fair in the
Adams Gazette
and pointed it out. “You want to know what your dad would have done? This is it,” he said, tapping the paper on a black and white crystal ball that took up half the page.

So here we were, making our way there. Drake stopped just on the edge of the park, eyes shining as his stare wandered over the different booths. Finally, he grabbed me by the wrist and tugged me toward a table with a sign that read “Palm Readings $5 by Jennie”.

Drake and I sat in front of a rather normal looking girl who was barely older than me. She was probably Drake’s age and appeared to be sane, like someone you might come across in a grocery store, green polo shirt and jeans with shoulder-length blonde hair. “Hello,” she said. “I’m Jennie.”

I smiled back and went to say hi, but Drake launched right in. “Sarah needs her palm read.”

My mouth dropped. I assumed
he
would be the one getting the reading. Besides, I didn’t know how I felt about all this see-into-your-future stuff. “Really?”

“Well, yeah,” he answered.

Psychic Jennie held her hand out, waiting for mine. I hesitated, peeked down at the fingers clutching my thighs and shrugged. What could this girl tell me that I didn’t already know?

Finally, palm up, I placed my right hand in Jennie’s. I flinched at her icy skin.

She winced. “Sorry. For some reason, my hands are always freezing.” Jennie picked my hand up and bent over it. “Any particular question you have?" she asked, still staring at my palm, moving it up and down and side-to-side to get a better view.

“Well, I…um…”

When I didn’t say anything, the palm reader looked up, a small smile on her face. “You’re not into this are you?”

“No. Not really,” I admitted.

Jennie tilted my palm and pointed at a creased line. “I can tell. It’s all right here.”

She tapped one of the long lines spanning the width of my palm. I bent over, studying the line. I didn’t know how anyone could read anything from a wrinkle in the skin.

A short chuckle caught my attention. When I looked up at Jennie, she burst out laughing.

My face grew hot. This was such a stupid idea.

Jennie glanced at Drake and then back at me. Finally composed, she dropped my hand. “Listen, I know it’s hard to believe in things you don’t understand, but sometime, you just might need something to believe in. When the time comes, you should believe in it.”

I stared at her, blinking.

“Nice,” Drake said as he pulled out a five-dollar bill from his wallet. “You got a spooky one.”

Jennie took the money and motioned for Drake and I to switch places. “I’ll do you both for five, okay?”

I broke into a huge smile and nodded. He laughed as grabbed his hand and handed it to Jennie across the table. If I got a crazy psychic reading, would he too.

Jennie did the same to him, twisting and turning his palm, trying to find the lines she needed. “Do
you
have a specific question?”

“Hmmm. Let me think.” He drummed his fingers against his chin with his free hand. “What does my love life look like?”

Jennie smirked, eyes peeking to me. She brought his hand closer to her face, staring at it awhile before her eyes fluttered closed. Her chest rose and fell with an enormous breath. She repeated that a few times before I nudged Drake’s leg and choked back a giggle. He shifted his gaze to me with an ‘Is this girl crazy?’ face.

Jennie’s eyes popped open. We both snapped back to attention, like we were scared of getting caught slipping notes back and forth in health class. “Your lines are much like hers.” She motioned with his palm toward me. “The heart line is deep and crisp and starts below your index finger, meaning you’ll be content. See the way it curves upwards?” Jennie asked, tracing her finger along Drake’s line. “That means you’re a romantic. The intersecting lines here, which look like an asterisk? Palm readers call that a star. A star along the heart line means you’ll have a happy marriage. You also have another fainter line here. It kind of mirrors your true heart line, runs parallel with it. That means your loved one will always protect you.”

“Thank you,” Drake said, his voice freakishly even and lacking any of the earlier humor. When he looked over at me, his eyes were glassy pools.

When we stood together, the spell broke immediately. He winked at me, his usual good-natured fun taking over. “Whew. I’m glad she didn’t bring up my other girlfriends."

I nudged him with my shoulder. “Do you mean Marlene?”

His mouth snapped shut. “That’s just not funny.”

“I thought it was.”

He squeezed my fingers and led me through the crowd. “So, you liked it?”

I shrugged. Yes and no. I thought it was interesting but I didn’t think I’d put any real stock into any of it. “For entertainment purposes only."

“Good. I was worried you’d think it was stupid.”

“I do kinda. I’m glad you didn’t take me to anyone like that.” I pointed out a psychic who looked exactly like a gypsy. The woman’s onyx-black poodle hair and flashy cloth headband attracted a lot of attention with the Crazies. At least twenty people stood in line.

“There’s Rose,” Drake observed, arcing his chin to a spot behind the popular psychic. She leaned over the woman and whispered in her ear.

“Huh. What do you think she’s saying to her?”

“She’s probably telling her to get a move on.” Drake called out and waved, “Hi, Rose.”

Rose’s eyes lit when she saw him and waved back.

Still conscious of the semi-fight we had earlier, I only smiled in return.

BOOK: Bound In Blood (The Adams' Witch Series Book 1)
9.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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